‘You shot him?’ His words are still a little slow and slurred. He’s shocked. I’ve never seen such a deep look of concern.

‘I had to,’ I say. ‘He was coming towards me, he was going to hurt us. I had to.’

‘You pulled the trigger,’ he says. It’s not a question. He knows what killing does to someone. ‘Are you okay? Shit.’

‘I had to, Cain. He was coming towards me. He was –’

‘It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t look,’ he says. It’s obvious he’s still heavily medicated by the way he walks, the looseness to his stride. ‘You’ll be okay.’

I hear him now, dragging something down the hall and I turn away. When I step out of the room and see the blood I feel a sudden overwhelming nausea. I look at Cain instead and notice that blood still silently seeps down his cheek from his eye. Cain steps over the body, holding the gun ahead of him and using the lighter to look in the bathroom. He picks something up, the gas mask, the hoodie Daniel was wearing.

‘He was wearing this, wasn’t he?’

‘Yeah,’ I say.

Cain is still wearing just his underwear. ‘Doesn’t look like there’s anyone else but I wonder why he took it off. I can check the other rooms or we can just get the fuck out of here. If there was someone else, they probably cleared out after the gunshot but let’s not wait around and find out.’

The wheezing tells me Daniel is still alive. We both look down at the same time.

‘Turn away,’ he says.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘He’s not going to make it,’ Cain says. ‘He’s just going to suffer and bleed out.’

‘What are you going to do?’

He drops the mask on Daniel’s chest, turns back to me, his face changes. ‘Nothing. I thought it would be right to… I don’t know.’

‘I should help him.’

‘No,’ he says. ‘Not if you think there might be a second man. We need the police. He’s not going to make it, Lina. He’s a goner.’

I want nothing more than for Cain to grab me, pull me against him. Hug me so tight I’ll never be afraid again, but he’s making sense. Someone else could still be here. Cain is trained for this sort of situation, but he’s groggy and weak. We need to move.

‘Come on, let’s go.’ He leads me into the bedroom. Checks around the bed for some clothes. He pulls on shorts and a sweater. Rain is flooding through the hole in the wall onto Grandpa’s old chest.

‘He was trying to put me in here,’ Cain says, leaning over, peering in. Adrenaline fills me. A spring tightening, ready to snap.

‘Come on, Cain, let’s get out.’