‘Who wants to reinforce the fires and who wants to prep the firesticks?’ I’m not about to let any of them risk moving out into the dark.

Sam drops a kiss to May’s head and lets her go. ‘I’m on fire building.’

‘I got the firesticks.’ Rhi sounds almost normal.

‘I’ll widen out the triangle first. Sam, don’t make them too big, we have to be able to push the sides out to make it a circle.’

He throws me a thumbs up and we go to work.

Bright headlights shine over us as protection but I make Uncle turn them off. We can’t see the firelight properly with those on.

It takes so long, with painstaking movements, shifting fires, building more, pushing out with our light. At some point May starts singing old rock songs and we all join in. Light and music are the best defences, Nan always said.

Old school rock and roll tunes echo around the space we’ve built, just as Sam steps up to tap me on the shoulder.

‘We’re out of firesticks, Tace, and there’s no more wood. It’s now or never.’

I nod, fear gripping my throat.

He takes my hand and leads me to the corner where May still sits and Rhi tends the original fire. It’s shrunk to a miniscule size while we worked, taking more and more from it to spread around.

‘Uncle, we’re ready. Slow but steady,’ I call.

My rising fear is choking me. What if I’ve got it wrong? This is the moment we’ll either get out okay or get taken, and there is nothing I can do about it.

Uncle’s car inches forwards. As it breaches the outer rim we all release a breath.

‘So far so good,’ Rhi sighs.

I have a sudden awful thought and press my head to the ground, watching under the car as it comes closer. Shadows swing around the wheels as they pass the fires. My breath stops. Movement around the rims, creeping limbs and red pinpricks, then scurrying backwards as the light penetrates deeper, spreading under the car.

‘Stop! They’re under the car again.’

‘I got it,’ Sam says, pulling a torch out from the little pile of their gear.

I frown at him. ‘You had that the whole time?’

He shrugs. ‘One little light wasn’t gonna save all of us.’

‘It might now,’ Rhi laughs.

Dropping to his belly near the front of the car, Sam shines it underneath and watches. The wheels get within ten centimetres of his head before he yells for a stop.

‘We’re right,’ he calls, standing carefully because he’s so close to the car’s bumper he might whack his head.

A big grin breaks out on Rhi’s face. ‘All aboard the Thomson train, people. Last stop, safety!’