LIKE A single creature, the foliage and greenery, the branches and leaves, swung round towards the open hatch. Faster than Ben could have imagined, a length of branch shot upwards, stabbing towards him. He tried to move, lost his balance and fell. The tank lurched beneath him. The branch disappeared back inside as the tank crashed through a low wall and tore across the grass. Ben was jolted forward, falling. He reached out his arms to stop himself tumbling inside the tank, into the greenery. His right hand connected painfully with the first aid box, knocking the clasp. As the box fell open, bandages and tubes of cream and field dressings fell out. And something else. Ben’s scrabbling hand closed on something cold and metallic. Instinctively he grabbed it – a gun. Then he felt strong hands on his shoulders, heaving him back up and out of the hatch. Knight pulled him clear and they both fell backwards – just as a mass of ivy poured out of the hatch, like water boiling over on a stove.
