Daniel pulled the bar free, then wrenched the door open and stumbled out into the night.

‘Stop him,’ said Louisa. ‘We have to stop him.’

‘It’s too late,’ said Sonya. ‘He’s gone.’

Grown-ups were coming through the door. Scarface fired off two shots at them. He looked to Harry to help him and Ella saw Harry still lying where he’d been pushed over.

‘That bloody idiot has done it now,’ Harry moaned. Ella could see that he was hurt. He’d fallen against some concrete blocks and his trousers were torn. His leg was glistening with blood. He started swearing and calling Daniel worse names than he’d called Ella. She put her hand over her ears. Grown-ups were streaming through the open door, and more were coming in the other side under the bent wall. The kids were being forced into the centre of the barn. Scarface was blasting away with his shotgun, two shots at a time, each one sending a wide spray of pellets into the advancing grown-ups, and then he had to break it to reload. Sonya and Louisa were jabbing with their spears and using them to hold the grown-ups at bay. Harry had managed to get to his feet and, limping and clutching his side with one hand, he was swinging a spear with the other.

‘We can’t hold them back,’ said Louisa.

‘We can’t hold them back,’ said Harry automatically, not even bothering to sound nasty.

The whole barn seemed to be filled with a grunting, hissing, shuffling crowd of them. Everywhere Ella looked there they were. A father got close to Scarface before he could reload and he had to use the butt of his gun as a club. He rammed it into the father’s face and he went down, spitting out teeth.

And then Harry went down. Three of them had got in close and he hadn’t been strong enough to hold them back.

‘Harry,’ Sonya yelled.

‘Harry,’ he replied, still copying her.