Maxie looked to where she’d last seen Paul. No sign of him. He must have moved fast. She scuttled backwards, wanting to get against a wall. She was still unarmed. Paul might come at her, make a last desperate attack. But where was he?

‘Cameron?’ she called out. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yeah. What’s going on?’

‘Paul was here. You fell asleep again.’

‘Paul? Where?’

‘I don’t know. He’s gone.’

The patrol finally ran over and Maxie felt a pathetic flood of relief. She got up and grabbed her sword, yanked it from its sheath, feeling much better now that she had a solid weapon in her hands. Her head was pounding, her knees weak, liable to give way at any minute. She was only glad she hadn’t wet herself in her panic. The patrol was scouring the area, shining their torches into every corner, while trying to stay together in a tight bunch with Maxie and Cameron.

‘You’re sure?’ said Cameron, staring accusingly at Maxie. ‘You’re sure it was him?’

‘Who else could it be?’

‘It’s dark.’

‘He fitted your description exactly.’

‘I don’t remember falling asleep,’ said Cameron. ‘You could have dreamt it.’

Could she? Could she have imagined the whole thing? What if she’d been asleep the whole time and Cameron had been awake?

No. She was sure of it. The smell and everything. It still lingered in the air.

And then Cameron said something.

‘I’m bleeding.’

One of the patrol shone a torch in his face. He looked as pale as Paul. He was shaking, about to pass out, his hand by his neck. He took it away and it was wet. Red. There was a smear of blood below his ear.

‘He cut me …’

Maxie caught him as he fell.

Chapter 72

72

Brandon wasn’t sure what he was looking at. A head? But a head so swollen it looked unreal. With a face on it. Like a face drawn on a balloon. With huge eyes and a tiny mouth. That didn’t make sense, though, did it?

So what was going on?

He was lying on the floor behind the counter in the reception area. He and Kamahl had moved there last night. Too exhausted and strung out to stay watching the doors and too scared to go into the bowels of the building to find Blue.

The counter acted like a wall and gave them a small sense of security. They’d ripped open the leather seats and torn out the stuffing to try to make some kind of a bed, but it had been a cold and uncomfortable night. They’d barely slept, being all too aware of the grown-ups outside, crowding up against the doors and windows. Every few minutes either he or Kamahl had woken with a start and jumped up to look over at them, convinced that they’d been disturbed by someone getting in.