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and over again.
    Oli closed his eyes in despair. He slowed his pace, letting people overtake him. The woman who’d pushed him had gone. The angry man was running ahead. Oli took his chance and doubled
back.
    The fire doors had all swung shut and the emergency lights had come on bright and blue. Oli hurried left and scampered back towards his room. Was it right or left, though? He’d forgotten
the number and all the doors looked the same. He stood in the corridor, peering this way and that, thinking only of his toys.
    It was five minutes later that Millie noticed he was gone.
    ‘Where’s Oli?’ she said.
    Sam and Ruskin were arguing about scores and didn’t hear her. One of the receptionists had found a loudhailer and was explaining her legal duties according to the health-and-safety
executive. There was a cold wind blowing and it swept across the car park in gusts.
    Millie’s eyes jumped from group to group. A cluster of men squatted together, drinking from beer cans. A young couple were locked in an embrace, kissing. A toddler seemed to be imitating
the fire alarm and its parents were trying to silence it. She walked briskly back to the reception area. If Oli had stayed inside – or gone back to the room to rescue something – could
he find his way out? She imagined him frightened and alone, and quickened her step.
    Once inside, she was faced by the same four corridors that had confused Oli.
    She thought hard, but couldn’t remember which one led to their room. She couldn’t even remember the room number – Mrs Tack had done the business. She chose a corridor at random
and pushed through the first fire-door. As it closed behind her, she started to jog. She needed to be fast if she had four corridors to search. She was about to call the boy’s name, when she
heard the most dreadful sound. It stopped her in mid-step and her body went ice-cold. The noise was close and the corridor gave it a terrible echo.
    It was the roar of something wild. And there was the stink of animal.

Chapter Four
    ‘Help . . .’ said a voice.
    Millie felt her heart lurch and she was drenched with sweat. She was looking at Oli. He was in the elbow of the corridor, just ahead of her, his back pressed against the wall. He was looking
straight ahead, at something dreadfully, dangerously black. It was a cat and it was huge. As the fire-door clicked shut behind her, the beast spun round in panic – then it jerked itself
backwards, ready to spring. Shoulders, paws, and a gigantic head; its mouth was slavering, lips pulled back to reveal a shark’s mouth full of monstrous teeth. She couldn’t move, she was
held by the flashing eyes. The jaws were opening, it was ready to spring.
    ‘Millie, don’t move! Don’t move!’
    As Oli spoke, the cat spun again, unsure who to confront. Millie realised it was as terrified as she was. She tried to scream, but she simply didn’t have the air to do it. She would die in
silence, because the beast was turning once more, as if it had made up its mind. It was growling – a long, low, quavering groan as it went down low on its haunches. Its head was on one side,
touching the floor, a demented look in its eyes. The claws were getting longer, sharp as meat-hooks.
    ‘Oy!’ said a voice.
    Millie felt a hand on her shoulder. Strong fingers gripped her. They eased her back, slowly. She’d heard nobody, but then she’d been transfixed, waiting to die. The voice came again
and she noticed a thick accent. The hand was drawing her back.
    ‘Slowly, huh? Ver’, ver’ slow . . .’
    She tried to speak but, like the receptionist, her jaws had been locked by the shock.
    The voice whispered in her ear, ‘Stay behin’ me, alright? You OK now . . .’
    Then, presumably to the cat, the voice hissed, ‘ You stay there and don’ you even move! ’
    Millie was drawn backwards. She smelled the sweat of the man, and now she saw him: he was short and powerful.
    ‘Stay righ’ behind me,’ he whispered.
    To