Ella huffed and got up and lugged the rucksack over to the gate, her legs aching, her back sore, her fingers going white where they tugged at the straps. When she got back, Scarface had somehow managed to get up on to his feet and was leaning against the wall, eyes closed again, sweat running down his cracked, leathery cheeks.

‘I’m not sleeping,’ he said when he heard Ella. ‘Just resting.’ And he put a hand on her shoulder. The hand with the missing fingers. His other hand was gripping the shotgun, which he was using as a sort of walking stick.

‘Come on then,’ he said, gripping Ella tighter. ‘We can do this.’

Step by painful step, they crossed the yard, barely moving. They didn’t stop, though, and when they eventually got as far as the bag Scarface slumped down with a moan. It looked like he’d never get up again.

He mumbled something that Ella couldn’t hear and she shook him and told him to say it again.

‘There’s a wheelbarrow in the shed,’ he said, his voice not much more than a whisper.

‘I can’t take you in a wheelbarrow.’

‘Not me, the bag. You can wheel it down the road.’

Ella found the wheelbarrow. It was quite wobbly and hard to steer at first and she swore at it. It tipped over three times as she tried to get the bag in it. At last it was done, though, and she set off. It was even harder to steer with the weight of the bag inside, but slowly she got the hang of it. It was certainly much easier moving the rucksack like this. She took it about a hundred metres down the road then came back for Scarface and on they went. Inch by inch by inch.

They’d got about halfway to the barrow, and Ella was wondering if they’d ever get there, when she saw someone approaching in the distance. Moving quickly down the road.

‘There’s a …’ she started to say.

‘I’ve seen it,’ Scarface interrupted.

‘Is it a grown-up?’

‘No. It’s a kid. You can always tell. A boy, I reckon.’

I can’t always tell, thought Ella, but she didn’t say anything. They stopped walking and stood there, waiting. They couldn’t have run away even if they’d wanted to. As the boy got nearer, Ella realized that she recognized him.

‘It’s Isaac,’ she said.

‘You mustn’t tell him,’ said Scarface.

‘Tell him what?’

‘Anything,’ said Scarface.

Isaac seemed to take a long time getting to them. He wasn’t running, just walking, tramping steadily along, head down. When he finally arrived, he looked the two of them over.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

Ella nodded.

‘I came back,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t leave you.’

‘What happened?’ Ella asked. ‘Did you stay up on the look-out platform all night?’