‘Right,’ said Dr Jones. ‘Are we all ready for English? For today’s lesson, I’d like to look at writing letters. Who can remind me of the format?’ She turned back to the board, picking up her pen ready to write.

James looked at us all and sniggered. ‘Dr Jones, we’ve just seen some flippin’ kriks raiding the town. There’s nobody left alive to write a letter to. And even if there is somebody out there, I don’t think they’d really care if we sign it “sincerely” or “faithfully”.’

Dr Jones stared at him. ‘But what if they do care, James? Are you willing to take the chance? Because I can’t begin to tell you how stupid you will look if you sign off a letter incorrectly.’

Chapter 6

6

There was always something disturbing about seeing kriks on the land. I didn’t like being reminded that everything might not be good out there, that life on land might not be like my pleasant daydreams, or that if we did manage to escape then things might not be much easier off the Jellyfish. I also hated seeing kriks on our bit of land, by those houses that felt like ours, and scuttling on that road I could so easily imagine myself walking on. I just knew their feet would make an annoying scratchy, tapping noise on that tarmac – could almost hear it, if I turned my ear towards the shore. They were so skin-crawly, the way they moved with those unpredictable, erratic, sudden movements and random direction changes so you couldn’t tell where they were going to go next.

I was already feeling krik-y and tense when we were called in for that evening’s lecture, but as soon as I saw Soldier John standing at the front of the Big House I knew things were about to get worse.

‘Killing.’ Soldier John gave a long pause, staring at us each in turn. ‘That’s what tonight’s demonstration is about. Killing.’ He gave an even longer pause. The people on the front row started to shuffle awkwardly.

‘Well, that sounds jolly interesting, John,’ interrupted Dr Jones with a bright smile. ‘Is it a lecture on the history of killing?’

‘A demonstration.’

A few people in the front row took the opportunity to move away.

‘Right. But we normally do lectures, don’t we?’ said Dr Jones.

‘A demonstration would be more use. Military tactics. I need volunteers. You’ll do.’

‘Lovely,’ said Dr Jones. ‘You’re not going to kill me, I hope?’ She gave a hearty chuckle.

‘Stand here,’ said Soldier John without smiling, directing her towards the centre of the lecture area. ‘Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna be learnin’ about survival. We’re gonna be learnin’ about killing kriks.’