I've seen a lot of terrible things today, but nothing compares with this. It's not that Tyler dies more horribly than any of the others who've been torn to pieces. But I sacrificed him. I let Dad bully me, the way I've always done, and now a boy is dead because of it. Because of me.

As the other zombies draw closer, the scent of Tyler's blood luring them on, Dad jerks the door open and bellows triumphantly. Trev and the others squeeze through. Dad dashes back and pulls me away from the awful spectacle of Tyler Bayor being finished off by the undead.

"Come on," Dad pants. "We've got to get out of here."

Dad shoves the Indian kid away from the door and growls at him, "Get out of it, Gandhi. My daughter goes first."

He shoves me through, then follows. The Indian boy's squealing. He tries to wriggle after us but a zombie grabs him. He screeches and reaches out to us, pleading to be saved. Dad sneers, then pushes him back and slams the door shut.

"Help me hold this," he snaps at Trev and Meths. They obey without question, shocked into submission by his viciousness, dominated by the cruelty in his voice, the same way I've been dominated by it all my life.

Dad looks around for something to jam the door with, but there's nothing. "All right," he pants, straining with Trev and Meths to hold back the zombies. "I'm guessing they'll pile up and get stuck. It'll take them a while to sort themselves out. You lot run ahead. We'll hold this a bit longer, then dash after you and hope we get enough of a start on them."

Elephant, Stagger Lee, Seez and the other Muslim boy peel away to the left. They're crying and shaking but they push on, freedom all but guaranteed now.

"Go on, B," Dad says.

I shake my head.

"Stupid girl," he mutters, then winces as the door buckles. "All right, stick with me then. Are you two ready? We'll let go on the count of three."

Trev and Meths nod nervously. Then Dad shouts swiftly, "One two three!"

The trio release the door and make a break for it. The zombies push hard on the door and it tears free. But like Dad guessed, too many try to squeeze through at the same time and they get jammed. It'll be a few seconds before they make any headway.

Dad realizes I'm not with him. He pauses and turns. Sees me backing away. "B!" he shouts. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I can't," I moan.

He starts towards me. Stops when he spots the zombies untangling themselves. "Come on!" he screams, extending a hand. "I didn't go through all this to lose you now. Get your arse over here before - "

"You know the problem with you, Dad?" I stop him, calmer than I've any right to be, wiping angry, bitter tears from my cheeks. "You're a bigger monster than any bloody zombie."

As Dad gapes at me, bewildered, I turn my back on the man I love more than any in the world, the man I hate more than any in the world, and stumble away from him, from the exit, from safety. As he roars my name, I follow the branch of the corridor that leads back into the building, preferring to take my chances among the zombies than go along with the racist beast who made me kill Tyler Bayor.

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