The arrival at Spitfire’s Rise was the end of Kate’s personal story of Takeover Day, but as time went by she had pieced together a nationwide picture based on the accounts of other survivors. The very first place Grant had attacked were the barracks and RAF bases, disabling any military force on British soil that had not belonged to him. (Even Ewan’s dad had only narrowly escaped with his life.) After that, his armies had focused on places where children could be found – schools, nurseries, theme parks and so on – because once he had the children, he had the parents too. All it had taken was a television broadcast with the words ‘your children will be waiting for you in your local habitation complex’, and resistance among half the adult population was gone.

Not long later the National Grid had been taken down, Grant using his own power sources to run his Citadels, and the invasion of city centres had begun. Rural villages had come afterwards, and places with immobile populations – mainly hospitals and care homes – had been saved for last. Kate imagined that Oakenfold had been pushed further down the priority list because of the disability levels of some of their students, allowing them to hear the news of Grant’s armies before they arrived.

It was another thirty metres or so to Paul’s office. When they arrived, Mark poked his head around the glass built into the door, and leapt back as if from an electric shock.

He had seen something inside.

Without a word or anything beyond a finger held out to silence Kate, he whispered into his radio. Really whispered.

‘We’ve found someone,’ he said.

‘Where?’ came Ewan’s immediate answer.

‘Paul’s office. One clone in front of a laptop… bloody fast asleep.’

‘Actually asleep or just pretending?’ asked Raj.

‘His radio’s at the other end of the desk. He’d have to climb to reach it. If he were pretending, he’d have it in his hand.’

So this was their trap, thought Kate. One clone in the headteacher’s office with a panic button. Once he presses it, a whole clone army descends on Oakenfold and makes sure we never get out.

But if that’s true, what’s the laptop for?

‘So,’ she asked, ‘what do we do?’

Mark had already drawn out his knife.

Before Kate could breathe another word, Mark had silenced his radio and pressed against the door.

For a huge figure, Mark was stealthy when he needed to be. He crept through the door, holding it open for Kate behind him, and took tentative steps across Paul’s old carpet. He positioned the knife in his hand with the blade facing inwards.

He’s going to slash the clone’s throat.