Paradigm (9781909490406) by Ceri A. Lowe

table in front of her. Hutchinson was deep in concentration and not smiling at all.
    â€˜We’re looking for tobacco, alcohol and any foodstuffs you can lay your hands on. Only look for things that are tinned and preferably don’t need mixing with water. Anything fresh will have gone bad by now—and absolutely no meat unless it’s in a can. You’ll have just under an hour to get in and out. Make sure you bring me back something strong. There’ll be a reward in it for you if you do.’ He put his hand on Alice’s leg.
    â€˜We need to trust each other now, Davenport,’ he said and then touched the side of her face.
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    M ajor Hutchinson made them wait for exactly fifteen minutes after smashing the bedroom window two floors downstairs before making the next move. He swung the large basket he’d attached to the rope back and forth until the hole in the window had seemed big enough to push the small girl through. Alice’s head swirled as Hutchinson lowered her over the balcony. The rope dug into her hands and as she crouched her legs into the basket, she could feel them shaking beneath her. The pain in her leg was invisible compared to her fear of falling into the deep grey swirling mass below.
    â€˜Lean inwards,’ called Hutchinson. ‘Get a grip on the ledges and I’ll go slowly.’ Alice could almost hear him smiling. ‘Chin up, private,’ he called cheerfully. ‘We’ll have you back on dry land in no time!’
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    A s she neared the window , the wind whipped up and swayed the basket back and forth. Alice closed her eyes and waited as Hutchinson took the strain and steadied the basket until she was level with the window. Taking the hammer, she tapped around the edges of broken glass, levering them and then pushing inwards like Hutchinson had shown her.
    â€˜You ready?’ he called. Alice could just about hear his voice as it was eaten by the wind. The swing of the rope threw her almost entirely into the room and she used her hands, filled with splinters of glass, to pull herself over the window ledge and straight onto the bed. It was the smell that she noticed first. Next, it was the clusters of flies that buzzed along the ceiling of the room and then out into the cloudy sky like musical notes along a stave. On the bed was the stinking corpse of a dog, already long dead. Letting out a screech, she threw herself onto the floor, shaking.
    â€˜All right, private?’ called Hutchinson.
    â€˜Fine and dandy,’ said Alice, her heart beating like a drum. She tugged on the rope to signal her arrival. Pulling open the bedroom door that had been jammed shut, she made her way downstairs, head spinning and stomach turning.
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    I n the first kitchen , the cupboards were empty except for two tins of dog food. Disappointed, she kicked the base unit door, which bounced open. Under the sink there were the dregs of a half bottle of whisky. Alice opened the bottle and sniffed. The rancid liquid burned her eyes and she shoved it into the basket. The front room had been completely trashed and the windows broken, an icy wind whispering through the curtains. Like Hutchinson had instructed, she walked out through the rim of the door and climbed over the wood fencing separating the back balconies. But the next flat was exactly the same. And so was the next. By the time Alice reached the fourth flat, she had been gone for over half an hour and all that she had was a drip of whisky, the dog food and a can of processed peas that were out of date.
    In the last flat in the row, the windows weren’t smashed. As she climbed over the balcony, she called out, first in a whisper and then more loudly but no one answered. Taking the hammer in one hand and covering her eyes with the other, she banged on the glass until it shattered into pieces on the floor. When the last pieces fell, and there was no other sound, Alice crept through into the front room. She