Stiff from the cold and sleeping on the ground, she walked on the spot for a minute and stretched, then made her way into the last-but-one house on the Row. “Hello?” she called, neither expecting nor receiving a reply. She found spots of blood on the living room carpet, beside an overturned mug and a half-dried coffee spill, and murmured a brief prayer for the occupants, wherever they might be now, before turning her attention to practicalities. She collected all the bedding and blankets she could find and stacked them in the kitchen. She also found tea, coffee, sugar, dried milk and – best of all – a hob kettle. Trying the kitchen tap, she was surprised to discover the water still worked. But then, cutting it off wouldn’t have been much use to the creatures. If they meant to come back tonight no one in Barsall was likely to live long enough for thirst to be an issue.

Milly brought the blankets outside, draped them over the others, set the kettle among the embers to boil and went back into the house for mugs and teabags. Brewing up at the end of the world. Absurd. But what else could she do?

When she came back, Ellie was sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Hey.”

“Morning, cock. Brew?”

The couple who’d lived in the last house had been regulars at the surgery, both with long-term medical conditions. There was no sign of them, not even blood, but Milly knew they’d have been at home, and wouldn’t have stood a chance when the things had smashed their way in.

The husband had had a knee injury that flared up and subsided intermittently; she found the codeine pills he took for the pain and the wheelchair he used to get around when it was bad, both of which would be useful for Madeleine. Best of all, there was a woodburner in the living room, so the group could move inside the house. With the shattered door and windows it was still bitterly cold, but less exposed than the lawn.

Ernie gulped his tea gratefully, then picked up his shotgun. “I have to go.”

Milly knew where, of course. “D’you want any of us to come with?”

Ernie shook his head.

“I hope they’re okay, love.”

Ernie nodded, then went into the hallway and out through the smashed front door.

“What’s the plan now, then?” Charlotte asked.

For a moment Ellie seemed off-guard – helpless, lost – but then rallied. “We search the village. Look for survivors. Once we’ve done that –” She stopped and considered. “Two things,” she said at last. “Because as I see it there’s two possibilities. One, whatever’s happening here’s localised, which means there’s help out there if we can just get hold of it. Two –”

“We’re on our own,” said Kate. Charlotte squeezed her hand.