Achilleus looked over to where Caspar was lying on the floor of the church, on an inflatable mattress that the museum kids had brought along with them. He was yelling and screaming, lashing out angrily at his friends who were trying to help him. Swearing at them, telling them to leave him alone. He was delirious from pain and his growing fever.

‘I got hurt,’ said Achilleus. ‘Didn’t cry like a baby.’

‘Leave it out, Achilleus,’ said Ollie, who could see that the museum kids were all pretty freaked out by what had happened earlier in the day. ‘He’s really badly cut up. He could die.’

‘Yeah … Well, he should still shut up about it.’

‘We can’t all be as tough as you, Akkie.’ Ollie loaded this with edge, and wondered for a moment whether he’d gone too far and Achilleus might have a go at him. It wasn’t beyond him to physically attack Ollie. Ollie tried to hold his cold stare as Achilleus turned it on him. Daring him to say something else. At last Achilleus smiled.

‘You’re right, ginge,’ he said. ‘You can’t all be as tough as me.’

Now Achilleus turned on Einstein. The three of them were sitting at the back of the church on a hard wooden pew.

‘You’re a doctor, ain’t you?’ he said. ‘Some kind of scientist, medical expert. So do something for him.’

‘We’ve done all we can.’ Einstein sounded tired, his voice slightly hoarse. It had been a long day. ‘We’ve soaked him in antiseptic, and tried to bandage him up, but those dogs tore his leg to pieces.’

‘He lost a lot of blood?’

‘Quite a lot. But dog bites, they’re not clean.’

‘You got any alcohol? Something like that, to calm him down?’

‘No. Just painkillers. We’ve given him all we can. We just have to wait.’

‘Yeah,’ said Achilleus. ‘Wait for him to die so we can all get some sleep.’

He got up and walked away to where Paddy was waiting for him at the other end of the small church. Paddy had been making Achilleus a bed of sorts out of stuff he’d found in the church. Achilleus slapped him round the head when he got there, prodded at the bed with the toe of his boot.

Ollie found himself alone with Einstein.

‘Not exactly soft-hearted, is he?’ said Einstein.

‘Nope. He’s a dick.’ Ollie rubbed a bruise on his arm. Wasn’t even sure when he’d got it or who’d given it to him. Must have happened in one of the fights. But which one?

‘I really have done all I can for Caspar,’ said Einstein.

‘Yeah, I know. It’s bad news. But it happens.’