He pulls on his jeans, picks up his coat, and shrugs it on as he staggers up the hill towards the hotel. But he’s struggling; everything spins around him, spiralling like a macabre merry-go-round. Concussion. His legs go from under him, his vision blurs, and he tumbles sideways into the bushes, lands on the wet grass. He’s no use to Alice. He’s no bloody use to the woman he loves.

Alice

A loud anxious knock on the bedroom door invades the silence. Alice’s body stiffens. She’s locked herself in. Bolted the door. She’s safe. If she ignores it, they’ll go away.

Another rap on the door. Alice clenches her fists.

‘Help! Let me in for Christ’s sake.’

‘Faith?’ Alice jumps to her feet, approaches the door.

‘Leave me alone!’ Faith screams. She’s being attacked. ‘Oh God. Leave me alone. Alice! Please! Help me!’

‘I’m coming.’ She pulls back the bolt. Unlocks the door, and throws it open. ‘Faith?’ But the hallway is deathly silent. ‘Faith?’

She peers down the dark hallway, narrowing her eyes. ‘Faith?’ The door to Faith and Mitch’s room stands open.

Alice edges her way along the corridor, close to the wall, until she gets to their room. ‘Faith?’ she whispers, pushing the door open further, glancing over her shoulder, before stepping inside. ‘Are you in there?’

The sharp wave of nausea as the sight of Mitch, and the stench of vomit, catches her unawares. He’s on the floor; propped against the bed, legs out in front of him, back straight, arms rigid by his side. Red circles are painted on his chalk-pale cheeks, and his ponytail has been cut off, his hair oiled back from his face. His eyes are wide open – staring. Like Christine and Dane, he’s wearing a bow tie. Alice moves her gaze to a half-empty brandy bottle standing on the bedside table. The churning nausea in her stomach won’t subside – she must get out of this room. But her legs won’t move, her eyes are back on Mitch. Mitch is dead. The Winslows are dead. Christine is dead. Everyone else has disappeared. She covers her mouth, heaving as she stumbles from the room.

‘Alice!’ Faith cries, her voice receding up the staircase. ‘Help me, Alice. Oh God, please …’

Alice rushes from the room towards the sound of her friend’s terrified voice. She reaches the bottom of the stairs, looks up into the semi-darkness. ‘Faith?’ She takes the stairs slowly, her heart thudding. ‘Faith? Where are you?’

A scream comes from high above her – the attic room?

She continues up the stairs until she reaches the second floor. Makes her way past Gabriela’s room towards the staircase that leads to the attic. Above her, the red door stands open, a light escaping from inside. She takes the steps slowly – one, two, three, four, five …

‘A-lice.’ The voice is chilling, and coming from inside the room. ‘A-lice.’