Once she’d reached the gallery itself, she ducked out of sight. It was deserted now, but the entire passageway rang with the wail of frightened voices.

Dakota stole a glance over the side of the waist-high wooden balustrade alongside the gallery, and saw that the assassin was standing directly under one of the two stone bridges. He fired off a few more shots and she ducked down again.

Leaning on one knee, she balanced the plastic rifle on the rim of the balustrade and aimed it directly at the underside of the bridge immediately above the assassin. She pulled the trigger, half-expecting the weapon to fail completely.

Her vision turned black for a moment, before her filmsuit compensated for the overwhelming flash. When her sight returned, she had a bird’s-eye view of the bridge tumbling downwards in ruin.

Four-arms wasn’t nearly fast enough to get out of the way in time, and so disappeared under a mound of boulders and gravel, along with the car and Rivers’s corpse.

Dakota glanced down at where her rifle should be, and found all that was left was the handgrip containing the battery, along with several centimetres of shattered plastic barrel.

So much for home-made weapons, she reflected, pulling herself upright. At least the battery hadn’t blown as well.

She looked around, and could still hear the voices of people talking and yelling somewhere out of sight. Already a siren was sounding in the distance. She had no idea if four-arms had come alone, but in case he had any allies she needed to find something else to defend herself with. The filmsuit, however effective, could not protect her indefinitely.

Clearly, Dakota realized belatedly, Hugh Moss had found her first.

She made for the surviving bridge and ran across it, still holding on to the shattered rifle. It might be useless now, but someone at a distance might not be able to tell straight away. Another long tunnel stretched ahead, lit by glow-globes.

Another figure came running towards her, flames licking around his clenched fists. His head was smooth and shaved, and a satchel was slung across his bare chest. Even from a distance it was obvious there was something strange about his skin texture; it looked rather like the armoured hide of some ancient predator. He came to a stop and tipped his head back, his chest rising as if he were drawing in one enormous breath. When he lowered his head again, an enormous whoosh of flame was released from between his lips. At the same instant he drew one flaming hand back to throw something at her.

Dakota spun round and began to run back in the other direction just as a terrific explosion of light erupted behind her. She threw herself over one side of the bridge and dropped to the passageway below, just as a rush of intense heat enveloped her. She didn’t even feel the impact as she landed.