She put out a hand to shake Maeve. Her body felt hot, and she was wearing some sort of heavy, scratchy material that Ella didn’t remember.

And she was sticky and damp.

Now Ella knew where the smell was coming from. The body on the mattress. It stank. She shrank away from it, scuttling on her back. What had happened to Maeve? And where was Monkey-Boy? He was no longer in the bed. She flopped off the edge of the mattress and slithered across the room to Robbie and started to shake him.

‘Robbie,’ she whimpered. ‘Wake up. Wake up! There’s something in the room. Please wake up. I don’t think it’s Maeve. I don’t know where she is. Robbie, please wake up. I’m scared …’

But Robbie was cold and still. Ella groped up his body, feeling for his face. She would have to force his eyes open. Scream in his ear …

But when her searching hands reached Robbie’s neck there was no more of him.

His head was missing.

Ella screamed and, as she did so, the figure on the mattress slowly rose. It was too big, much too big to be Maeve. Too big to be a kid. It was a grown-up, a father, its eyes staring, its mouth a black hole. It put its feet over the side of the bed and stood up.

Fear snatched the voice from Ella’s throat and she darted across the room and scrabbled in silence for the door. But where was it?

She hit the wall and felt along it. Where was the door?

Where was the door?

She couldn’t get out.

The father was lumbering closer.

No. Not like this. They should have stayed with the others. Not like this …

She was pressing herself against the wall. The door must be here somewhere. There had to be a way out. And then she was falling. The door had been open all along. She landed on something soft and cold and wet.

Another body.

She heard the sound of the father behind her. His feet on the carpet, shuffling along, sshwssh, sshwssh. His heavy breathing. Wheezing and gurgling in his throat. Felt his hand on her ankle. Jerked her leg away.

Not like this …

She got up, slipping in a wet puddle. Skidded and hit the corridor wall. Carried on. It was even darker out here. All she could see was some dim light coming through a window at the far end of the corridor.

Ran towards it, the father behind her, moving faster now, moaning softly.

Not like this …

She came to the window; the corridor turned to the right. She went round the corner and there was a flash of light and now she screamed. A face seemed to hang in the darkness.