‘Good shot,’ he said and then went over to where the wounded pigeon was flopping about on the floor, one wing severed. He hit it with his club and it stopped moving.

‘If that’s the worst we got to deal with we’re gonna be cool,’ he said.

‘It’s not,’ said Maxie, who had moved through to the next room.

There was a dark, glistening bundle lying against the wall. It looked like …

A person.

Blue clamped his hand over his mouth. One of the other kids was on his knees, throwing up.

‘Samira.’ Maxie was shaking. ‘Oh God. This is too much. I want to get out of here. I can’t stand this, Blue, I can’t stand it. Where is he? We have to find him.’

Blue forced himself to look. The body was rotting and bits had been cut off it. The belly was ripped open and seething with maggots. He swore. Felt as if he might faint. It was like one of those old films where the walls start closing in on you. He hurried away, opened a window and gulped in fresh air.

‘Bastard,’ he said. Behind him he could hear the others moving about and Maxie shouting orders at them. Searching. He didn’t care. He was going to leave them to it. The sky was darkening, and he heard a distant rumble of thunder. A storm was coming. He wanted to tear the roof off the tower and let the rain come in and wash out all the filth.

He stayed there for ages. Staring out across the grey tiles of the roof. Wishing that none of this had ever happened.

Finally Maxie put a hand on his arm. She was amazing. Stronger than him. She’d been disgusted and terrified, had wanted to run away, but she hadn’t folded.

‘Come on,’ she said gently. ‘He’s not here. There’s no one here. Only Samira.’

‘He might be. He might be …’

‘No.’ She locked eyes with him. Telling him it was over.

Blue shook his head. ‘I’m going to look properly.’

‘We’ve looked.’

Blue brushed Maxie’s arm off and stalked through the rooms, kicking boxes out of his way, screaming and yelling.

‘Come on! Where are you, you bastard? Where are you?’

And then, as he completed his circuit and ended up back at the stairs, he saw someone … Their shadow on the wall. Creeping slowly.

He had him …

He tensed and got ready to swing his club. Felt acid flood his guts. His skull was tight, throbbing so hard he could hardly see straight. The shadow moved closer. And, at the last moment, it was as if something clicked in Blue’s brain. Nothing conscious, but deep down. And he held back for an instant, his club hanging above his head.

It was Fish-Face. She looked at him shyly, her face turned to the side, and for the first time she spoke.