13
As the name suggests, The Mount is a steep street with a row of terrace houses on each side. It stretches up further than my eyes can register, so I’m guessing that there must be over a hundred in total. We’re gonna need a bigger van. To the left of the junction is a primary school—the gates have been padlocked and there are no obvious signs of life through the windows. Thank God.
Climbing out of the van, g*n gripped tightly, helmet on, we make our way to the first house.
“How should we do this?” I ask Andrew. “One side at a time?”
“No. We zigzag. It’s easier.” He points his g*n to the first door. “Okay, Cath, we stay methodical—start with number one. But more importantly, we stay together. Don’t make a move unless I say so, or you have no other choice. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I say wit
