He leans his cheek against the cold door. Which is how he hears the cracking slap and Avery’s cry.
Then—
sirens.
He has to get Avery out of here.
Nothing else matters.
Shoes scrape the cement outside and their voices cut off as the sirens blare closer. Sam flips the lock.
Avery’s voice is high and trembling. ‘Who would know—’
‘The kid,’ Vin snaps. ‘The kid has a phone. I’m going to kill him.’
Sam throws the door open and explodes forward, all broken buttons and bruised knuckles and panic pulsing through his veins. Avery has a hand cupped to his lip, blood dripping down his chin, and his eyes meet Sam’s with shock.
Sam doesn’t stop. He flies past him, feet eating up cement as he makes for the fence.
Blue and red lights flash on the street.
‘Run!’ Vin gasps and pelts after Sam.
There’s a brief hesitation and then Avery takes off too.
Sam doesn’t slow for the fence, he just leaps and catches hold of the edge, toppling over like a boneless rag doll. He hits the ground on all fours and then he’s up again, streaking through a yard and then curving out on a parallel street.
He runs.
They pound after him.
Chasing him or just getting away?
His lungs scream.
Avery pulls ahead of Vin and gasps Sam’s name, but the rest of his words are stolen by the crunch of gravel as they dive down an alley and climb over a gate wedged between a pub and a closed antique shop. Sam hits the ground and keeps running. But Avery trips.
And then Vin is on top of him.
Sam skids to a stop at the other end of the alley.
Vin has Avery’s arm. She smashes her elbow into his face and then drags him towards Sam and the darker end of the alley. Dim streetlight illuminates them – Avery folding up to protect himself, Vin growing taller in the shadows, lips twisted with vengeance.
‘You dropped the bag of money, didn’t you?’ Vin says. ‘Our whole night’s work.’ She throws Avery on the ground.
Sam takes a step forward. Another. Another. Vin’s lips peel back in a vicious smile.
‘Come over here, Sammy.’ She puts a boot on Avery’s back, pressing down. ‘Come here and let’s talk about what happens when you mess with me.’ And then before Sam can speak, can act, can think, Vin raises her boot and stomps down hard on the small of Avery’s back.
Avery’s cry cuts the numb walls around Sam.
Red heat pours into Sam’s eyes.
‘NO.’ He springs forward, fists curved to swing, but Vin is ready.
She ducks and then catches Sam’s arm, twisting it so sharply Sam trips and chokes on a cry. Vin slams Sam into the wall and his head cracks against bricks. He sags to his knees, hands to his head.
Vin picks something up from the piles of alley rubbish.
A broken piece of plywood spiked with bent rusted nails.
Sam tries to scream but the world tips sideways and his head throbs and he can’t even see straight.
Avery scrabbles to get up. ‘Vin, wait. Please. I-I-I—’
Vin cracks the pole across Avery’s stomach.
He falls back down with a cry.
Sam struggles to get up, grabbing at the wall for support. He needs it to stop spinning, please stop spinning. Vin sees him trying to move and flips the wood from hand to hand. ‘You’re next, Sammy. But I think it’ll hurt you more to watch this first.’
She swings the wood again. It catches Avery across the shoulder blades with sickening thwack. Avery lets out a sob, curling into a ball and covering his head. He never runs. Never fights.
No.
No.
Fear fades from Sam’s chest and rage pours in, enough to level mountains and explode seas. Sam leaps forward.
Avery’s sob is broken.
Sam’s cry is blood.
He throws himself at Vin, fists and teeth and torn lungs and murderous eyes. His punches are quick and aimed perfectly – kidney, nose, throat. And before Vin can grab him, Sam hooks his leg around hers and sends them both smashing into the alley wall. She lands a punch on Sam’s jaw. But they fall and he’s atop her now, knee in her throat. He raises his fist to her face. Twice in one night his soul spills red.
But he can’t
do
this.
Sam keeps his slashed knuckles raised, Vin pinned, her eyes on him like an ice storm. A sob ravages Sam’s chest. He doesn’t … he doesn’t … want …
His arm shakes, frozen.
He doesn’t want to do this any more.
Vin’s fingers claw at Sam’s waistcoat.
There’s a snick of metal slipping from a sheath and a smile curls her bloody lips.
A sob racks Sam’s lungs and he slowly lowers his fist. He’s not going to hit any more. He’s not. ‘You’re never going to touch my brother again or I’ll—’
His words snap off unfinished, because there’s a flash of silver and a punch to his stomach.
His world shudders. He looks down.
The knife slips out of his stomach, red as cherry syrup, black as a long kiss in the dark.
He opens his mouth. Chokes.
Pain.
One bright spear of pain.
Vin shoves Sam off and now he’s on his knees in the alley, his hand straying to his stomach. He tries to get up, but his shoelaces tangle and his legs buckle.
Behind him, Avery wails. High-pitched and childish and terrified.
Vin drops into a crouch in front of Sam. The world spins, a carousel of broken stars and blood-streaked knives. Vin’s face fills his whole vision.
‘And just think, when you’re dead, I’ll come back for your brother and I will carve my name in his skin before I kill him. That’s a promise, Sammy Lou.’
She puts four fingers on to Sam’s forehead – and pushes.
Sam falls.
He falls for ever.
He
is
going
to
die.
Avery catches his head before he hits the cement. Avery’s arms surround him, pulling Sam to his chest and thrusting his hands over the blood gushing out of his stomach. It runs thick and red. So much of it. It doesn’t really hurt. Sam tries to tell Avery that.