You grip Walter’s hand; perhaps tight enough to hurt, but your husband doesn’t make a sound, or even speak. Instead, he puts his ear close to your mouth, allowing you to whisper to him, all without taking his eyes off the woman.

“I think we should try sneaking around her,” you whisper. “Anubis told us to bring the object that’s here. I’m fairly sure he means the box and not the zombie.”

“I’m not so sure she is a zombie,” Walter whispers back, his breath warm against your ear.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I’ll tell you once we’re out of here.” Walter squeezes your waist, his fingers resting lightly on your hip for a moment, before he lets go of you. “We should go in opposite directions. Whoever grabs the box first will need to get it out and to Anubis as fast as possible.”

You swallow hard and whisper, “What if the other one gets trapped?”

“Then you or I will have to hold her off until Anubis can do his thing,” Walter answers. He draws you in for a quick, hard kiss that makes your toes curl and then gives you a gentle shove towards the left. “Go. I’ll see you outside.”

You grip hold of the gun in a palm slick with sweat and begin to edge round to the left. You keep your back towards the cavern wall, eyes focused on the not-zombie, glimpsing Walter edging round towards the raised rock on the other side.

She continues muttering, the words taking on a strange singsong like quality, even though you still can’t understand them. Then, abruptly, her head jerks up. She turns, slowly, looking towards Walter and the next moment, a long, high-pitched wail escapes her.

The sound pierces through your eardrums and you clap your free hand over one ear; not that it does any good. Her scream is painful and for a few moments, it stops you in your tracks.

And then you push through it. You start running; running towards the box. Running away from the sound.

And then Walter lets out a low, painfilled grunt as you reach to grab the box. With it in your hands, you spin round, your eyes widening.

She has your husband by the throat, pushing him up against the wall, still screaming. Walter’s hands are empty. There’s no sign of his gun. His fingers are clawing at her hand, digging his nails into her skin. She ignores the blood he’s drawing and slams him back against the wall with force.

You don’t think. You react on instinct. The box is in your hands and you crack it against the back of her head.

The box splinters into pieces, leaving you holding a charred, black heart in your hands. Pus runs down between your fingers, making your skin burn.

Her scream turns pain-filled and her grip loosens on Walter. Your husband slumps to the ground, his breathing laboured, his head bowed.

You pull your shirt off and wrap it around the heart, then quickly race round to Walter’s side as the spirit doubles over, continuing to scream. You grab your husband’s arm and drape it over your shoulders, pulling him to his feet and tucking the wrapped heart under your arm.

Walter lets you pull him along, not trying to walk on his own, and that terrifies you more than anything else as you stumble along towards the exit of the cave.