The door cracked open and Charlie saw Patrick, bare legged and wearing the same striped shirt and stained briefs as the day before.

‘Who are you?’ Patrick asked, forced to step back as Charlie shoved the door.

A stink of unwashed everything got through Charlie’s virus mask. She kept a hand on the gun and gagged as she stepped inside. There were two double beds. Juno was on the one furthest from the door, face down in socks and knickers.

‘I ate the chocolate,’ Patrick said, facing the wall guiltily and scratching one leg with his big toe.

Charlie trembled as she closed in on Juno. There was urine soaked into the bed. Juno showed no sign of breathing and a deep bruise ran in a straight line across her throat.

‘Where’s Mikey?’ Charlie asked urgently.

Patrick pointed into the bathroom. Charlie straddled dirty clothes, passed the blaring TV and leaned into the bathroom.

Mikey had been in the shower when the bad guys showed. He was face down, naked, with shampoo lathered through his long hair. The method of execution was identical to Juno, with the purple wound across the neck.

‘Is my mom too dead for a doctor?’ Patrick asked, pleading eyes making Charlie choke up.

‘I think so,’ Charlie said.

I feel sick. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

Charlie’s lawyer had said it was unlikely anyone would randomly dig up the old investigation into her work in Mango’s lab, but the FBI file would still exist and it would surely surface if she reported the murder of her former lab partner …

I can’t be linked to this, but I can’t abandon the little guy …

Killer-T had created a thousand times more orphans than the child-protection system had been designed to cope with. Most kids got taken into good homes with relatives or friends, but thousands had vanished and there had been a ton of media coverage about paedophile abductions, grotty makeshift orphanages in school gyms and overcrowded foster homes.

The only way I can be sure Patrick doesn’t get dumped somewhere awful is if I take care of him.

‘OK, little man,’ Charlie said, trying to sound confident and friendly. ‘I think it’s best if we leave. Where are your favourite toys?’

Gotta think about forensics. I’m wearing anti-virus gloves and the only thing I’ve touched is the door handle. The only people who can link me to this location are the guy who came out of the room down the hall and the taxi driver who took me here. Hopefully the local cops will put minimal effort into investigating the death of a couple of zombies …

Patrick climbed on to the empty double bed and grabbed a well-worn stuffed pig and a grubby fleece blanket.

‘Has your pig got a name?’ Charlie asked as she looked inside an open suitcase by the door.