‘Wait,’ she said at last, the sound of her voice surprising her. The boy stopped still, tensed and then slowly, slowly turned. His face was a face drawn on a sheet of paper, so white, making his eyes look yellow, his teeth …

Yellow.

Spider.

Paul.

Maxie was fully awake now, no doubt about that, her throat dry, the blood throbbing in her temples, her legs shaking. All she could hear was her own breath, rasping through her nose. Cameron slept on in his chair. Either that or Paul had killed him already.

Paul had a look in his eyes that wasn’t human. He seemed possessed by the spirit of some animal. He had the cold, pitiless eyes of a shark, or a snake.

Lizard, shark, snake, spider …

No. She had it now.

Dinosaur.

Maxie hated dinosaurs.

He looked like a raptor out of a Jurassic Park film. One of those nasty, clever, skinny ones. It was the museum that had possessed him.

‘Wait,’ she said again. He tilted his head to one side. Licked his lips and his tongue was shockingly pink. God, he stank.

Maxie tried to fix on her surroundings without taking her eyes off Paul. Her new samurai sword was propped against her chair, still in its scabbard. Cameron had his own weapon, a short sword, in his lap. He was supposed to be awake, it was his watch, but he’d fallen asleep again. Stupid bastard. And where was the patrol? Had Paul done something to them? He was a lot more dangerous-looking in the flesh than she’d imagined. Because he was no longer human. He was this dinosaur thing.

So had he dealt with the patrol or might they appear at any moment? She had no hope of getting to the whistle around Cameron’s neck to alert them.

The only thing she could do was try to reason with him, to reach out to the boy who must still be in there somewhere.

‘You’re Paul, aren’t you?’ she said. He didn’t reply, just licked his lips again. That pink tongue crawling over his dry skin.

‘I’m Maxie. I’m new here.’

‘I’m hungry,’ said Paul, his voice dry and dusty.

So he could still talk then. That was a start. He moved closer to her and she saw that there was a film of sweat on his face and his skin was twitching, shivering, seeming to crawl on his face.

‘We can find you something to eat,’ she said.

‘No, you can’t.’

‘I can,’ said Maxie, sounding lame, even to herself.

Paul just made a dismissive noise. Moved his blade gently in the air.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Maxie said. ‘Why did you kill that poor girl?’

‘Why did you kill that poor girl?’ Paul’s mocking voice became harsh and grating, like he was channelling someone else. Someone older and fouler.