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Viyan lay on the floor of the van, sobbing as her abductors stared down at her.

Each jolt, each bump in the road seemed to go right through her, but Viyan barely registered the blows, still in a state of shock.

How could this have happened? How could things have gone so disastrously wrong ?

She had been set fair, she had been free … but now she was heading back to Hell.

The journey passed in a blur of tears and anguish and to her horror, Viyan soon recognized the familiar lurching of the van, as it negotiated the rutted dirt track that led up to the camp.

Soon they were barrelling across the yard, before the speeding vehicle came to an abrupt halt.

As the engine died, Viyan’s fevered mind scrolled forwards to what lay ahead.

The reckoning was at hand and she would not have to wait long for her punishment, her captors flinging open the doors and hauling her out.

Crashing to the ground, Viyan tried to raise herself, but before she could do so, a familiar voice rang out:

‘Well, well, well … Look what the cat dragged in.’

Looking up, Viyan saw Leyla standing above her, her eyes ablaze.

‘Thought you’d got away from me, did you? Turns out it’s not that easy.’

Viyan looked away, unable to stomach her tormentor’s triumphant smile, but she could hear the joy in Leyla’s voice.

The truth was that she had broken free, she had escaped, only to blunder back into captivity through her own stupidity.

Viyan had suspected it was a trap, so why hadn’t she heeded Helen’s advice? Why hadn’t she just stayed put?

‘What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?’

Viyan kept her mouth firmly shut, refusing to respond.

‘Oh, I know I won’t get an apology,’ Leyla continued bitterly. ‘But you are going to tell me what you told that bitch, Grace, and I mean everything …’

Viyan’s thoughts rocketed back to her rescuer.

She’d seen her race towards the van, had shuddered when she’d heard the vehicle clip her bike, had marvelled when she realized that Helen was clinging onto the back of the van.

For a moment, panic had reigned, her abductors terrified that Helen would manage to open the doors and climb inside.

Viyan had no idea what kind of police officer Helen Grace had been, but clearly she had a formidable reputation.

Her hopes of liberation, however, were no sooner raised than dashed.

The van braked sharply, there was a loud bang, then silence, the vehicle continuing on unencumbered.

What had happened to Helen? Was she injured?

Killed even? It beggared belief, after all she’d done for Viyan, the bravery, kindness and determination she’d shown. Had it all been for nothing?

‘I know you can hear me,’ Leyla continued aggressively. ‘And you will talk.’

Viyan now heard the familiar, repetitive whooshing noise as the bicycle chain gained speed, arcing round and round in her tormentor’s hand.

Bracing herself, Viyan heard her attacker let fly, the first blow striking her on the shoulder and neck, rocking her sideways.

Straightening up, she felt it bite again, this time on the side of her head.

She fell to her left, before righting herself, aware now of a terrible ringing in her right ear.

The third blow landed heavily on her back, her assailant circling her now, forcing Viyan’s face into the dirt.

As she raised herself up once more, the battered worker felt blood pooling in her mouth, tasting its coppery bitterness, as she turned to take in her captor.

‘I am not going to tell you anything ,’ she hissed fiercely.

Leyla looked outraged, bending down over her to strike once more, but Viyan beat her to it. Turning to confront her, she looked Leyla squarely in the eye before spitting a mouthful of blood straight into her startled face.

Silence filled the yard, the handful of workers present stunned by this shocking act of defiance.

For a moment, Leyla did nothing, simply staring at Viyan, bug-eyed with rage, as the sticky blood crept down her cheeks.

Tensing, Viyan waited for the inevitable explosion, for the barrage of blows, but to her surprise Leyla tossed aside the chain, reaching down to grip her arm instead.

‘Have it your way.’

Hauling Viyan up off the ground, her captor marched her fast across the yard.

‘No one disrespects me, least of all you,’ Leyla hissed.

Surprise now turning to alarm, Viyan looked up, horrified to see that they were heading directly for the incinerator.

‘Please, no …’ she cried, digging her heels into the dirt.

Leyla’s knee crushed into the small of Viyan’s back, robbing her of breath, causing her to stumble forwards.

Her assailant half-dragged, half-carried her the rest of the way, before dumping her in a heap by the locked metal door.

Laughing darkly, Leyla lifted the lever lock, throwing it open to reveal the ash-strewn floor.

‘I’m begging you …’ Viyan pleaded.

Leaning down, Leyla hauled Viyan to her feet, propelling her bodily into the tall metal cylinder. Stumbling, Viyan landed in a heap, sending a thin cloud of ash into the air. Triumphant, Leyla stood in the doorway, glaring down at her.

‘I always suspected that you and Selima were close. Well, guess what? Now you’re going to see each other again …’

Viyan cried out in terror, but it was too late, her tormentor slamming the heavy door shut, plunging her into darkness.