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burst into tears.
    “We can’t go on like this, Arran.”
    “Yeah?” Arran stared at her, that bleak look stil in his eyes. “So what are we supposed to do, then?”
    “I don’t know, do I?” said Maxie, trying to control her voice.
    Arran sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s been a tough day. I’m the leader. I’m supposed to know what to do, aren’t I?”
    “You can’t know everything. You can’t always be expected to know the best way to . . .” Maxie stopped herself. It wasn’t helping. “We should cal a meeting. Talk about it.”
    “Later,” said Arran. “I’m tired.” He closed his eyes for a moment. Maxie took the opportunity to study his wound. It looked nasty, a row of weeping black holes surrounded by yel ow and purple bruising. She touched him gently with her fingertips.
    “Does that hurt?”
    Arran winced, then nodded.
    “You need to have it looked at,” said Maxie. “Come on.”
    They went upstairs. The floor above the shop was mostly a storage area, but there were offices here, the canteen, and access to the roof terrace.
    One of the offices had been turned into a sick bay, and they kept a basic medical kit there. Antiseptic, painkil ers, and bandages. They found Maeve sitting at a desk, staring out of the window. Maeve acted as nurse and doctor. Her parents had both been doctors and she’d picked up bits and pieces from them. She knew more than any of the other kids, so in their world she was an expert.
    Arran showed her the damage and she went to work.
    She cleaned the cuts, put on some disinfectant, and taped a bandage over it, then gave him something for the pain. She said nothing. They al three knew that it was serious. There would be an anxious wait to see whether the wound got infected. Three kids had died from infections since they’d been holed up here. To lose Arran in the same way would be a catastrophe.
    Maxie didn’t know what she’d do without him.

    T hat evening the kids held a meeting in the courtyard on the roof. They had made the area as civilized as they could manage, adding to what was already here with stuff they’d scrounged from nearby buildings. There were plants in raised beds and pots, garden furniture to sit on, some tables, and two big barbecues where they did most of their cooking.
    They had a few solar-powered lamps, and candles in jars, and they had lit a fire in the barrel from inside a washing machine that Ben and Bernie had turned into a brazier.
    Smal Sam’s sister, El a, was sobbing quietly in a corner. Maeve had an arm around her, but most of the others just ignored her. They had al lost someone. They didn’t want to be reminded.
    Maxie tried hard. Tried not to glance over at the little girl. Tried not to think about how awful she must be feeling. And it wasn’t only El a. Freak was lurking in the shadows in another corner. He hadn’t said a word since they’d got back.
    “As you al know, we lost two kids today,” said Arran. “It’s getting bad. I don’t know how much longer we can hold on here.”
    Instantly there was a chorus of distressed voices.
    “But where would we go. . . ?”
    “We’re safe here. . . .”
    “We can’t go out there. . . .”
    “We’l be al right. You’l find food.”
    “You’l kil al the grown-ups.”
    “I won’t!” Arran shouted, his voice breaking. This shocked everyone into silence. They weren’t used to seeing Arran lose his temper.
    “I can’t,” he went on. “There’s too many of them. I can’t kil them al . We can’t go on like this. We’re getting weaker every day.”
    There was a long silence. The little kids looked terrified. They couldn’t handle this. None of them wanted to face up to the reality of their situation.
    A fair-haired kid with a wide mouth they’d nicknamed Monkey Boy, because he loved to climb things, broke the silence.
    “We’re doing al right, Arran. We’re not starving or nothing. You brought us back the dog