We were moving at speed, but our back packs were a hindrance. I dared not look back behind me incase I should stumble and fall. My lungs burned with exertion, and I could hear from Mina’s ragged breath that she was in the same way.

I knew they were gaining on us as I could hear their moaning rising in volume behind us. I focused on keeping my balance and simply putting one foot in front of the other as we pushed on. We were now running down the middle of the road as that was the flattest surface. The road had a slight incline and it felt that we were going slower as we pushed forwards.

I had a stitch in my side, and a pain in my hip that would not subside. My hands clutched the tools I held with a vice like grip. I was mentally preparing myself to stop, stand and fight rather than be pulled down from behind and savaged.

Ahead was a small public garden. Both Mina and I rushed through the open gate. On the other side of this garden we could see a cordon and it was from here we could hear the shooting. As we ran we both shouted out to the cordon. The cordon itself consisted of riot barriers and as we exited the garden the noise behind had me tensing with every stride as I imagined those cold dead hands reaching out for me.

From behind the barricade we saw our first soldier. He raised his gun, sighted behind us and sent out a thunderous volley of shots. We reached the barricades and desperately tried to climb over. I glanced over my shoulder, my ears ringing from the shots fired and saw that out pursuers had been downed. The relief shook through me and I could feel my hands shaking in real fear for the first time since these events had begun.

Mina was helped across to the other side of the barricade. She saw my hands shaking, and reached across to squeeze my arm.

“We made it”, she said her voice sounding weak and faint to my damaged hearing. “We got to safety.”

Mina and a pair of soldiers helped haul me over the barricades. There was more shooting. Short concise bursts. We were directed towards more fencing where we saw a sign for a first aid station.

As we passed it we looked inside a tent and saw that there were many wounded inside. Some lay there in silence and shock, but some writhed in agonised pain. I recalled Alistair’s face from the night before and a new chill ran up my spine. Mina looked across to me and smiled with a look of relief, but I could only look back at that first aid station and wonder.