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is going to be a big improvement, I promise.”
    Nestor nodded, but there was concern in his eyes. “Are you going to be okay out there?”
    Sarah grinned and took a step back. With a moment’s concentration she changed in front of his eyes, shielding herself in the image of the giant man again.
    â€œI don’t think anyone will mess with me,” she said with a laugh as she walked through to the lounge. The Xbox was turned off and a news programme was playing on the TV now – something about a series of robberies in the city.
    â€œâ€¦ongoing incidents of virus-related powers being used in criminal activity,” the TV reporter explained. “This has raised fresh concerns about public safety in the aftermath of last year’s meteorite strike…”
    A middle-aged politician in a black suit appeared on the screen, surrounded by reporters.
    â€œThe fact is,” he said, clearly used to the sound of his own voice, “we have a generation of superhuman delinquents loose in this country. They have been gifted powers that pose a grave threat to private and national security. Who knows how the fall virus has affected their minds or their morality? This is why I am presenting a bill to parliament to give police greater powers to arrest and detain minors suspected of being genetically or mentally…enhanced.”
    The camera cut back to a female newsreader. “That was Victorian Senator Anton Grey talking at the site of Monday’s bank robbery in which criminals used what police are calling an invisible mind shield to disguise their activities. Have you ever wanted to be invisible, Bob?”
    â€œOnly when my mother-in-law visits,” the male newsreader to her left replied and they both laughed as an advert came on. Louise blinked once and the TV turned off.
    â€œWhat do you think?” Robert asked from the kitchen doorway, concern in his voice.
    Sarah walked towards the door. “I think the sooner we get out of this country, the better. People are starting to get afraid of people like us. And that’s dangerous.”

5
    Uncle Pete parked the car directly opposite the entrance to the bank and killed the engine. He looked round at his fifteen-year-old nephew, Alex, and gave him a big, fake smile that revealed two rows of crooked, nicotine-stained teeth.
    â€œOkay, tell me what you’re going to do, kid,” he said.
    Alex was a thin-faced kid and underneath his T-shirt it was possible to see that his body was just a little too skinny – as if he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in a month. Which he hadn’t. As Uncle Pete drummed his fingers on the back of his seat impatiently, Alex sighed and went through the routine he’d learned by rote. “I walk in the front entrance of the bank and make sure no one sees me. I smash the fire alarm with the hammer.”
    â€œWhere’s the hammer?” his uncle demanded. Alex pulled the metal tool, a toy no bigger than his hand, from his jeans pocket and held it up. His uncle nodded. “Go on.”
    â€œI move to the locked door near the tellers and wait for the manager to come out to start clearing the foyer. When he comes out the door, I slip through. By now the tellers will have left their stations, but I wait until the bank is evacuated before opening the drawers. I take the money from the drawers and put them in the bags – only the big bills – twenties and larger.”
    â€œYou got the bags?”
    Alex raised his jumper to show the wad of canvas bank bags tucked into his belt. His uncle nodded for him to continue.
    â€œIn the drawers I leave at least one note at the bottom of every tray,” Alex continued. “I close the drawers after I’ve emptied them.”
    In the passenger seat, Stella, his uncle’s girlfriend, frowned as she lit her third cigarette in half an hour. “Why’s he got to do that, Pete?”
    Alex’s uncle snorted as if