It looked as if she was attempting a smile, but her face was too weak for the muscles to respond. ‘I … I …’

The coughing started up again: a vicious hacking sound that appeared to throttle her, and caused teardrops to start forming around her strained and tired eyes.

‘Give her some bloody water,’ snapped Porter.

Hassad remained immobile, neither saying nor doing anything.

‘Fuck it, man, she’ll be bloody dead by tomorrow morning,’ growled Porter.

He walked over to the jug of water, picked it up and poured some into the tin cup next to it. Then he stood next to Katie, holding the back of her head in his hand. The stench was vile, worse than anything he had ever experienced even while he was sleeping rough. Anyone who has ever been homeless has developed a strong stomach, but Porter was struggling to keep himself from vomiting. He pushed the cup up to her lips, holding her head in position to give her any chance of drinking it. Her throat was so dry that at first the water just washed over her lips, the way a heavy rainfall will wash over the land, but eventually she was able to swallow some of the water, gulping it down greedily. When the cup was empty, Porter turned round to refill it from the jug. But Hassad was now holding it. ‘Here, let me,’ he said contemptuously.

He filled the tin cup, and held it up to Katie’s mouth. The first hit of water had started to strengthen her, and she was better able to drink this time: as soon as the cup was at her mouth, she drank down its entire contents in two swift gulps, with hardly a single drop spilling out over her face. ‘We need to get you looking alive for the camera,’ said Hassad. ‘That way it will be all the more shocking when your head is severed from these shoulders for all the viewers watching back at home.’

‘You can’t execute her,’ snapped Porter.

‘I can and I will,’ said Hassad.

‘Who sent you?’ said Katie, her eyes darting nervously from Porter to Hassad.

‘Nobody sent me,’ said Porter. ‘I came of my own accord.’

‘For …’ She started to cough again, and it took her nearly a minute to bring it under control. ‘For what?’

‘I might be able to get you out of here.’

Her head moved slightly from side to side. It was no more than a flick of the neck, and maybe she was just trying to stretch the few muscles she had been left in control of. But Porter could see something else in her expression. She didn’t believe him. Even worse, she didn’t want to believe him. He’d seen the same looks sometimes in the faces of guys dossing down in the street. They’d given up all hope. They no longer reckoned they could do anything for themselves, nor would anyone else be able to rescue them. They were just waiting to die. And the sooner their lives ended, the better.