There had been birds circling above the lake. Different ones. Normal birds, not the giants he could see now. Then he’d spotted a grown-up, standing stiff and still, like it was pointing the way. He’d gone over, followed where the grown-up wanted him to go, crawled up a bank on to another road. Walked on for a bit. How long? No idea. No watch. No idea. Where was Jake? Lost him. Lost everyone. Another grown-up, pointing. Keep plodding on. Shirt wet. So much blood. Watched his feet as they moved in front of him, like they were in a film. And in the end everything had disappeared, he’d left his world and ended up here. Walked right into another dimension. Maybe it was heaven. Or hell?

A big nothing.

Just him and this shoe and the sky.

How could this be? How could anywhere be so big and empty? Apart from the giant white birds. So gigantic they looked like aeroplanes.

He laughed. They were aeroplanes. It all made sense now. He must have got on to the runway at the airport. This wasn’t hell, it was Heathrow Airport. He’d lost his spear. His shirt was red, soaked, sticking to him. Blood pumping down from his neck. Thirstier than he had ever been before.

He should get up. Go over and get on one of those aeroplanes. Fly away from all this. Yeah. One of those planes could fly him somewhere nice. Somewhere hot where there weren’t any sick grown-ups. Just him and his family. Mum and Dad and Ant. Sitting on a beach in Spain, like when they’d stayed in his uncle’s flat. That had been well good. With all them tall buildings, hotels, apartment blocks, shops, all along the back of the beach, keeping him safe. Just like home.

Yeah. It was going to be a cool holiday. He smiled. Showed his ticket to the air hostess. She was nice. Said hello. Beamed at him. He held his mum’s hand. Everything was all right. Mum was there, and Dad, and Ant. Ant hadn’t died. Why had he thought that? Ant was fine. Funny little kid. He said sorry to Ant for thinking he was dead and Ant just smiled at him. They found their seats. Settled down. There were headphones, a TV screen. He looked out of the window. Already they were taking off. Up in the sky. Up where no one could get to you.

He turned to his mum.

‘I’m really looking forward to this holiday. It’s going to be the best.’

‘Yes. Yes, it is. But you won’t need that shoe, love. Let go …’

Oh, right.

He was still holding on to that stupid shoe.

He let go.

Watched as the shoe dropped out of his hand. Slowly, slowly, down out of the sky, slowly turning, through the clouds, disappearing …

… the blood stopped running down his neck and he fell very still.