“Shut up, Callum,” said Achilleus. “Let’s listen to the man.”

“You’ve come all the way across town by yourself?” said Ollie, not convinced.

Patchwork’s face clouded over.

“There was five of us to start with,” he said. “We thought all of London would be like where we come from—organized. We didn’t realize how dangerous it was out here. How many Strangers there are.”

“Why?” said Ella. “What’s it like where you come from?”

“I told you. It’s safe. Most of the Strangers have disappeared from the center of town. We killed loads of them early on. Those that are left keep out of our way. They’re beaten. But it was mad getting here. We had to come through the badlands. They picked us off one by one. I lost Alfie just today. He was the last one. There’s only me left.”

He swallowed hard. It was obvious he was trying not to cry. Nobody spoke for a while. In the end Ollie broke the silence. He squatted down and spoke gently to Patchwork.

“How many other kids have you found on the way?” he said. “How many have you sent back?”

Patchwork sniffed. “None. You’re the first. The original plan was to keep going around London recruiting all the kids that were left. But it’s too dangerous for that.” He smiled and looked up at Ollie. “You lot, though, you could really make a difference. Together we could get back easy. You know how to look after yourselves. You’re good fighters. The best I’ve ever seen. I can take you there. I can take you to safety.”

“Let me ask you a question,” said Arran, his voice sounding hoarse and croaky. Everyone turned to him; it was the first thing he’d said since the meeting began.

“What?”

“Why should we go into the center of town? Why shouldn’t we just leave London? Go to the countryside? Surely we’ve got a better chance of surviving out there. That’s where all the grown-ups were trying to get to when they started dying.”

“Exactly,” said Patchwork. “And I reckon that’s where they all went. The center of London is empty, there’s none of them around, but the further out we got, the more of them we found. I reckon if you tried to get out of town you’d just come across more and more of them. It’s miles before you hit any proper countryside, but into town from here, how far is it? Five or six miles at the most. You could walk it in two hours if you didn’t have to fight any Strangers. Who knows what you’d find out there if you did manage to leave London. But in the center, where I’ve come from, I can tell you what it’s like—it’s safe.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” said Ollie.

“What would I gain by that?”

“Dunno. Don’t really know anything about you.”

“Yeah,” said Blue. “What’s your name?”

“Some people call me Jester, some call me Magic Man. . . .”