Although I saw George leap in our direction I wasn't prepared for the pain of his body striking mine. His shoulder struck my shoulder hard enough that I feared my arm had been pummeled out of its socket. The force of the impact spun me around and I fell to the floor with a nasty thud, my left cheek feeling the full force of the fall. I lay dazed trying to get myself to move with the ground beneath me swaying as if I were on a ship at sea.

"Mmph! Mmmph!"

The sound of muffled screaming, Mike's muffled screaming, hit my ears. I climbed to my feet and saw George perched on Mike's back (Mike was a good deal taller than George, and with much more weight too). Mike thrashed helplessly as George's hands covered his mouth.

"George!" I screamed, to no effect.

The faceless, many-eyed thing that George had become was smothering Mike more with every passing moment. I had to do something. Still dazed and not thinking things through I ran forward and tried to pry George's thin arms free from Mike. As thin as George's arms were they were squeezing and pressing around Mike's head, the hands covering his mouth, with every ounce of strength they had. A few moments of trying to yank George's grip off Mike's head proved useless.

I hesitated a moment before punching one of the large eyes on George's right arm near the elbow. The eye was both firm, wet, and disgustingly soft beneath my punch. The eye closed a little but beyond this my punch had little effect. I punched the same eye again, and again, and although the eye became bloodshot George made no sign of releasing his grip from Mike's face, which was turning a shade of purple.

If I didn't get George off Mike's face in the next few seconds then Mike would surely be suffocated to death. Adrenaline crashed throughout my body, my chest thumping with the rush of everything that was happening.

I don't want to do it, I thought, but if I don't coil up right now Mike will die.

I had no choice. Before I could second guess my decision I entered into the power stance I had used before to enter into the coiled state and let out a scream. There wasn't any time to build this up slowly, I had to get into the coiled state faster than I had ever done it before.

Despite every fiber of my being wanting the coiled state to kick in immediately, despite me willing to become stronger as if the phrase become stronger were a broken record repeating over and over again, there was still a delay of several seconds before the coiled state kicked in.

My scream grew even more intense as I felt the first onset of the coiled state take hold of me. It wasn't going to be enough to be able to move quickly for endless hours; I needed to push my body even more, into the danger zone. Already Mike was on the floor having lost consciousness, with George still smothering him, holding him tightly like some parasite having chosen its host.

I sucked in a huge lungful of air and screamed again. A second scream filled the air as I tried desperately to will myself into the second coiled state; it was George's, but as if his scream were coming from the very pits of hell. His scream, as far as I could tell, was coming from the two gill-like openings in the middle of his chest. His hands shunted Mike's unconscious body aside like a giant plush toy it no longer wanted to play with.

My scream reached its peak as the second coiled state took hold of my body.

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Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk!

Like before, in the time it had taken me to reach the second coiled state, my body was now riddled with lean muscle as if I had worked out tirelessly in the gym for a year. The overalls I wore strained to keep in the new muscle.

My time was up. George bounded on top of me, his hands going straight for my face and pressing down on my mouth to smother me.

He wants me to be silent, I thought. It was obvious before but even more obvious now. I threw a punch at George's faceless head and the blow sent George reeling off me. I clumsily climbed to my feet, fearful my punch may have broken the neck of my friend.

He's my friend, I thought, realising that in the time we had spent together at the facility that I really did consider him to be one. Not as close as my friend, not by a long shot, but certainly someone I was happy to spend time chatting about Ruff Rover with and, for his sake at least, to hear him talk at length about his love for those dumb Tily-Anne movies.

The thing George had become seemed dazed from the punch. I stood over George, unsure whether I should stay back or try to keep him pinned to the ground. My coiled body urged me to get into motion, to take action, but I fought against the urge despite how difficult it was to do so. It was like trying to have a clear thought whilst heavy metal music played at full volume inches away.

Somewhere down the corridor someone screamed. Before I could turn to see who it was, George's faceless head reared up; his body raised up like an insect, the limbs bent the wrong way. Then, in a single horrible moment, George's thin body pumped up with as much muscle as I had taken on in my second coiled state; as his body did this that hellish scream shrieked out from George's chest again, as if it were a scream coming from the depths of a cave.

George bounded at a sickening speed, boosted no doubt from increased muscle all over his body, towards where the other scream had come from. I remained standing where I was for a moment, dazed, breathing fast; I could barely concentrate on more than the present moment, but I needed to think. If I didn't follow George then someone else could get hurt. I wanted more time to think but there simply wasn't time for me to wait.

I shot a glance at Mike and saw that he had woken up and was coughing, his face bright red, but recovering.

I broke into a run, chasing after George. In just a few seconds George had made it down the end of the corridor and down another. It was easy to follow where he was going because screams rang out from another corridor. I ran as fast as I could, the white corridors a blur as I sprinted down the first then took a hard right into the next. I passed several frightened teenagers who were backed up against the walls.

I raced on, my plimsolls – the stupid things – falling away as I ran. I had to narrowly avoid a dozen more teenagers on my way down the second corridor; why had George let them be? Surely many of them must have screamed when they saw him; I had heard the screams. Yet for some reason he had passed them by?

I realised what George was doing when I entered into the next corridor and spotted the familiar sight of the kiosk where George worked each day. Teenagers were running away and George was perched atop the kiosk like an insect.

I ran toward George and came to a hard stop a meter away from the kiosk. Just as I reached the kiosk the sound of heavy boot steps drew near at the other side of the kiosk as the other end of the corridor. A handful of Pied Piper officers emerged into view with machine guns raised ready to fire.

"Get down onto the ground right now!" one of the officers shouted at George.

George's faceless head cocked to one side as if possibly understanding the Pied Piper officer's order.

"Now!" the officer shouted.

George let out yet another hellish scream, the loudest yet. Although they hadn't fired yet I could imagine the Pied Piper officer's firing bullets which would tear George apart if I didn't do something. For a fraction of a second I remembered sitting with George excitedly talking about Ruff Rover together and the momentary comfort that had brought me. Something about that memory pushed me forward.

The Pied Piper officers opened fire.