The rain was coming down in ropes now, lashing the leaves in the trees and filling the air with a sound like static. Even though Ben knew exactly where he was going, he almost overshot the graveyard, and had to veer to his left at the last moment. He heard Callum raging somewhere behind him, but from the sound of it he was back amid the trees. Ben, on the other hand, had reached the clearing – and the crypt itself was just … there.

He was going to make it!

As Ben started down the steps, the blackness of the crypt seemed to swallow him. At first he could see where he was treading, but in the dark, and with water cascading down the stairs, he lost his footing. He slipped, and gave a cry, and landed with his arm trapped beneath him. There was a crack, and his cry of surprise turned into one of pain.

He rolled, and felt his back lodge against the base of the steps. He knew he should try to crawl deeper into the darkness, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His fragile hope had shattered at the same time as his arm, replaced instead by despair.

He wasn’t ready to die.

He knew he’d done some bad things. Some very bad things. But surely he didn’t deserve this.

It was only supposed to have been a game – a stupid game he hadn’t even wanted to play.

And now he was lying here bleeding, scrunching up his eyes at the pain in his arm.

He wanted to wail, to call for help, but he couldn’t be sure who would reach him first. And there were footsteps close by. He could hear them. Meaning it was crucial he didn’t make a sound. He couldn’t run any more either, not in the state he was in, and not without drawing attention to himself.

His only chance was to squash in tight, and to hope that the monsters passed him by. To trust the shadows, and to pray. Please God, if you’re really out there, keep me hidden. Keep me safe.

Please let me never be found.

Sunday 27 October, 10.41 a.m.

There was no sign of Callum Richardson anywhere. There were two men in identikit suits scouring the hillside, and Fleet guessed they were Richardson’s bodyguards. But with the smoke billowing from the chapel, and the crowd all around them just as thick, it was obvious they were having about as much luck locating their employer as Fleet was.