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ahead and
Rich charged towards it.
    Only when he was inside the tunnel did he realise there was someone
with him, keeping pace as they ran.
    The man was grinning. He popped a green peppermint into his mouth as
they ran. Then he grabbed Rich’s arm and pushed him hard against the
tunnel wall.
    â€œI just want to talk to you, Rich,” he said in an
American accent.
    â€œYeah right,” said Rich.
    The hitman’s sunglasses reflected Rich’s pale face back at him.
    They couldn’t go back, Jade knew that. Rich would have to fend for
himself. For now the important thingwas to get away from the people in
dark suits and even darker glasses who were after them. Jade would worry
about finding Rich again later, once they were safe.
    She stuck close to Ferdy McCain as he pushed through the crowds round
the rides. But whatever way she looked, Jade could see one of the men
searching for them. She watched in horror as a broad shouldered man in a
dark suit suddenly lunged into the crowd just yards away. He hauled out a
girl with shoulder-length blonde hair cut a bit like Jade’s.
    The similarity was superficial, and the man let her go at once. He
muttered an apology and moved on, but it scared Jade. “We have to
get out of sight, out of the open,” she told McCain.
    They were in the middle of a group moving slowly towards an old
house. The queue looped up a narrow, cobbled driveway to a crooked front
door. The door opened and the queue moved forwards. They passed a sign
that said: Professor Horror’s House of Terror.
    â€œAs good a place to hide as any,” said McCain. The queue
stopped and the door closed again.
    â€œIf we ever get there,” said Jade.
    They were near the front now. “We should get inside with the
next group,” McCain pointed out.
    Jade looked round, but they seemed to have got away from their
pursuers for the moment. She could see the woman from the helicopter
pushing through the back of the queue and hurrying away.
    After what seemed an age, the door opened again and an overly
cheerful young man ushered in the next group of people.
    â€œDon’t get scared in there now,” he told Jade as she
went in.
    Jade glared at him. “Takes more than a visit to Scooby-Doo’s
house to scare me.”
    The young man grinned. “Really?”
    But Jade wasn’t listening. The woman with long dark hair was back.
She was standing at the far end of the queue, and she was looking up at
Jade. Her eyes were hidden behind her shades, but Jade was sure the woman
had seen her. Jade turned and hurried through the door.
    A few more people followed, then the door closed. Jade let out a long
breath. Maybe the woman hadn’t seen her after all.
    â€œYou OK?” McCain asked.
    â€œOh yeah. I just love haunted houses and ghost trains and stuff
like that.”
    They were in a wood-panelled room. Portraits of sinister-looking
people were painted directly on to the walls, frames and all. The eyes
rolled ridiculously as the portraits watched the people in the room. A
small boy laughed and pointed. A girl tried to hide behind her mother.
    Electric lights designed to look like candles flickered
unconvincingly. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling on a chain,
swinging dangerously—it seemed—to and fro.
    â€œAt least we’re safe in here,” said Jade.
    But as soon as she said it, the door was flung open again. The woman
following them stood silhouetted in the doorway. The young man tried to
close the door on her, but she pushed him roughly aside.
    Jade looked around frantically for another way out. There wasn’t one.
    The woman pushed into the room. She reached up and took off her
sunglasses. The eyes beneath were almost as dark and sinister, and at once
she caught sight of Jade and McCain. Her lips twisted into a smile and she
moved through the crowd towards them.
    McCain grabbed Jade’s hand, dragging her away. Soon they were facing
a