‘We mustn’t stay here, we must leave, hide,’ said Annabel.

‘Go where?’ muttered Frances. ‘There’s nothing. Not a building, not a shelter, not a road, just …’

She looked at the small building from which we’d emerged.

‘Just this sort of cabin, in the middle of nowhere.’

‘We’re lost,’ said a voice.

There was a murmur of unfinished phrases, one picking up from where the previous speaker had trailed off, their words colliding and tumbling over one another. I suddenly lost my temper.

‘Then go back inside! The cage is still down there, if you’re so frightened of being outside!’

‘Oh, you and your …’ retorted Annabel, exasperated.

She stopped short. I think she was going to say insolence, or rebelliousness, but she quickly realised that I was right, that this panicking would get them nowhere. I tried to control myself too, for I sensed that an argument was brewing, and that would have given them an outlet for their anxiety and set them all against me. Anthea, who’d remained calm, backed me up.

‘The child’s right. We must think, and organise ourselves. I don’t understand where the guards have gone, or why they’ve disappeared, and I’m frightened too. It’s not long since they left the bunker and there’s no trace of them.’

‘Eleven minutes,’ I added, ‘since the siren went off—perhaps a little longer, because I lost track of time for a moment. It took us eleven minutes to open the door, get out and climb up the stairs.’

‘Eleven minutes? With a helicopter or small aircraft, that’s plenty of time for them to vanish from sight, I suppose. But what about us? We can’t disappear like that. To get over there, to the horizon, will take us a good two or three hours on foot. If they’re planning to come back and catch us, we’ll be captured in no time.’

‘Not me,’ said Annabel. ‘I’d rather die, I won’t go back. They can drug me as much as they like, I’m sure I could turn the most carefully dosed drug into a lethal poison.’

‘Same here,’ said Greta. ‘I’ll stop breathing. It must be a matter of willpower, I’m sure you can stop your heart from beating.’

These words hardened their resolve, they began to chorus: ‘Me too’, ‘Me too’. Rebellion was stirring, it was plain that this time, they would not be caught unawares, as must have happened in the past, that they wouldn’t allow themselves to be overtaken by events like terrified creatures who could be led to the slaughterhouse, because they could not conceive of the slaughterhouse. They drew themselves up and gazed at the strange landscape. They planted their feet more firmly on the ground, and there were smiles.

‘It’s raining,’ said Frances.

She held out her hands to collect the raindrops as I had done and raised them to her lips. Then she felt her hair and cheeks.

‘I’m soaking wet. I’d forgotten what it’s like. It’s such a long time …’

‘More than twelve years,’ said Greta. ‘Just look how the child has grown.’