The surface of the water was so thick with jetsam that it looked almost solid: all the debris of the river was advancing inexorably over the land with the same restless shifting of the Jihad’s motorized hordes.

“This,” said Petrovitch, “this complicates matters. Back up.”

While they sat, the water was starting to flow under them. Dark shapes swirled in front, edging ever closer.

“Reverse is where?”

“Why don’t I find it for you?” He pushed the gear lever all the way over, and forced it down. “Foot off the brake and slowly off the clutch.”

They were going backward, but Madeleine was still determinedly looking forward. Petrovitch twisted uncomfortably in his seat. Something moved across the skyline, appearing for a moment between two glass-clad towers, but due to the gathering gloom he couldn’t make out its shape.

He turned his head to see better, and his shoulder flared in warning.

“Okay, Okay. Far enough. Wheel hard round to the right.”

The rear bumper crunched against a concrete pillar, rocking the interior. Madeleine struggled to keep the engine running.

“You’re fine, you’re fine.” Petrovitch looked again at the sky. “You’re not doing badly at all.”

“For a beginner, you mean.” She sniffed and scraped at the crusted blood inside her nostrils with a ragged fingernail.

“Don’t do that while you’re moving,” he said. “Hard left. We’ll have to find a different route.”

They drove back up the road, with Petrovitch leaning forward and scanning the rooftops.

“What? What is it?”

“There’s…” He frowned. “There’s something moving out there. Something big.”

“I don’t understand.” Her distraction steered them toward an abandoned, gutted van, and she swerved at the last second to avoid it.

“Slow down. Right here.”

Again, she took the corner too wide, mounted the pavement and almost introduced the car to a set of torn steel shutters.

“Sorry.”

“Promise me you’ll get lessons before we have to do this again.”

The windscreen pocked. A matching hole appeared in the back window a second before the whole pane crazed and fell inward in a curtain of crystal.

There were people in the side street that they’d turned down, spread out in a loose line between the pavements. They had big wire-mesh trolleys stacked with looted goods, but there was clearly room for a little more.

“Where was reverse again?” asked Madeleine, and she threw herself across Petrovitch. The seatbelt caught her halfway, so she dragged him down behind her.

The windscreen disintegrated, and Petrovitch could feel three distinct impacts. One hit his seat, sending out a puff of upholstery padding. Two hit Madeleine: her armor shocked stiff and slowly relaxed, like a muscle spasming.

The car stalled and rolled forward.

“Out, out,” grunted Petrovitch, his voice muffled by his confinement.