Having checked the generators and found them switched off , as they should be , Ben thought he heard a scream from the main station. He hurried back in as Connie screamed for the second time.

Without pause, he smashed his flashlight into the wall-mounted glass cage and snatched axe free of its clips, then hurried into the control room.

He glanced left. Nothing. He looked right and saw what was left of Charlotte Steele dragging her sister to the live control panel. All logic dictated that the control panel should not be live, but he was past logic. Hurrying to them, he hooked the axe of Charlotte’s head and around her neck like a makeshift shepherd’s crook and yanked her back. As she came back, taken by surprise so her grip on Connie’s hand relaxed. Connie snatched herself free and backed off. Ben followed, not taking his eyes off Charlotte.

‘Get out,’ he said to Connie.

‘That’s my sister,’ she insisted.

‘I don’t know what it is,’ Ben argued, ‘but it isn’t the Charlotte Steele I met. Now get out.’

‘Ben ,’

‘You think she took your hand to pick bluebells? She’s been in contact with extremely high voltage and my guess is, it’s that fucking control panel and she was just about to introduce you to it. Now get the fuck out while you can.’

Charlotte took a pace forward. Ben jabbed the axe out at her, head first, the blade off to one side. ‘Get back you bitch,’ he growled. He became aware of Connie still at his side. ‘Are you still here?’

‘Ben,’ she wept, ‘that is my sister. I spoke to her in the early hours of this morning. I can’t just leave her like … like that.’

He rounded on her, his eyes ablaze. ‘Your sister is gone. She’s dead. I can’t find any trace of Cockroft, so I assume that this fucker has killed him. I don’t know what this thing is, but it isn’t Charlotte. Give it a chance and it’ll kill the both of us, too. Now back off and out.’

The distraction allowed Charlotte to move. Ben winced as the bony fingers clamped onto his shoulder. He spun his head around and glared at her. The stench of burned flesh, already festering, filled his nostrils and churned his gut. He tried to yank himself free, but her grip was too tight. He prodded at her with the axe and she appeared not to notice.

She began to drag him to the control panel. He pulled back and found he could not overcome her. The effort broke sweat on his forehead.

Connie snatched the axe from him, shifted around his side, raised it and brought it down, blade first, on Charlotte’s forearm.

It sliced through muscle, sinew and bone like a hot knife through butter. The arm fell away from both Charlotte and Ben’s shoulder. Connie stared horrified, as if she was unable to believe what she had just done.

Ben was more concerned with Charlotte’s reaction. There was no blood. She appeared not to notice. And continued to try and hold him with the stump.

‘No blood,’ he said, relieving Connie of the axe and backing off. ‘As if her heart isn’t beating.’

She’s just a robot,’ Connie said and tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘Oh Charlotte, I’m so sorry.’

‘If she’s a robot,’ Ben said, ‘she’s well programmed. Come on, let’s go.’

They turned. As they did so, what was left of Cockroft blocked the exit.

‘Oh shit,’ Ben complained. ‘Cockroft too.’

They were pushed back into the corner near the computer station, Charlotte approaching from the left, Cockroft from the right.

‘What do we do now, Superman?’ asked Connie.

‘Christ knows. You got any ideas?’

‘Cutting her arm off didn’t make much difference.’

‘Suppose I cut their heads off?’

Connie shrugged. ‘Might be worth a try. Take his first. He’s uglier than Charlotte.’

‘Speaking personally, I wouldn’t sleep with either of them.’

Ben prodded the axe, first at Charlotte, then at Cockroft. Eyes or no eyes, both appeared the to sense the axe and were warded off by it.

‘Okay, chickadee,’ he said to Connie, ‘here’s the deal. I’m gonna tempt them both. You duck out and get out. I’ll be somewhere behind you.’

‘You won’t make it, Ben.’

‘Wanna bet? You haven’t seen me move. Just get ready to duck under Cockroft and get the hell out. Deal?’

‘You got it.’

Ben jabbed the axe at Charlotte. She backed off, Cockroft moved forward, Ben turned on him and this time jabbed him hard in the chest with the axe head. Cockroft backed off, Connie ducked under him and ran. Cockroft’s flailing arm reached for her, brushed the back of her neck and she ran.

Ben spun the computer seat into the middle of the floor, kicked it into Charlotte. She stumbled, he swung the axed edgeways on. The blade sliced cleanly through her neck and her head spilled off, tumbling to the floor. At the same time, the body collapsed in a heap, the head a couple of feet from the shoulders.

Again there was no blood. Ben leapt through the gap created by her departure, turned and faced Cockroft.

Oops!

The thought rattled through his head. Cockroft was now between him and the door, the control panel was behind him. One push from Cockroft and he would be toast.

Cockroft approached, Ben circled. Cockroft looked like a remnant of the man he had once been, but he appeared to have maintained some form of intelligence. He kept the exit between him and Ben.

Ben circled in the other direction as Cockroft neared. He swung the axe side on again. Cockroft ducked back and Ben missed. As the shaft whistled through the air, so Cockroft caught it and it stopped dead, sending a shockwave of pain through Ben’s arm.

Cockroft pulled, tore the axe from Ben’s hand and tossed it down near Charlotte’s severed head.

Left defenceless, the only thing Ben had at his disposal was his flashlight, tucked into the pocket of his jeans. It was a heavy duty, rubber affair, but if Cockroft had not been impressed by the axe, he would hardly notice the torch. Ben yanked it from is pocket and threw it. It struck Cockroft in the centre of his forehead. He reeled for about a second. Ben took advantage and ran. As he ducked under Cockroft’s arm, he felt the hand snatch at him. For a moment, the dead engineer had Ben’s collar, but one tug saw Ben free and running, out of the control room, out of the corridor, out of the building.