“No.” My heart was thudding. Quickly I scanned the students around me.
Four girls to my right clutched bags and water bottles and were in tight conversation. A couple, arms looped around each other, ambled along. A student grappling with the lock on a bike. And one older guy sitting on his phone, talking loudly.
“No…I can’t,” I said. “See him, that is.”
“Up there?” Mitch gestured in the direction I hadn’t scoped out.
And then I saw him. In the distance.
Jeremy.
My brother.
My twin.
His hair was shorter and his shoulders broader. He wore a light-brown jacket that hung to his hips and jeans with a frayed rip in the knee. He turned away from me, back toward the road.
I clasped my hand to my chest and held in a gasp. “He’s there. That’s him.”
“What?” Mitch snapped his head in the direction I was staring. “That guy?”
“Yes, brown jacket, blond.”
“Come on.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me in the direction Jeremy was going.
We half walked, half ran. I worried about Mitch’s wound, but he didn’t seem to give it any consideration.
“He’s going out of sight.” I sped up. What if we lost him when I’d only just found him? “We’re going to lose him!”
“We won’t. Fuck.” Mitch released my hand and rushed forward. “Hey, Jeremy!” He shouted. “Jeremy Bailey. Stop right there.”
Jeremy whipped his head around.
Even from the distance I was at I could see his eyes widen and him take in a shocked breath. And then he turned, and ran, fast, around the corner.
“Little fucker.” Mitch snarled. And then he, too, was running, at speed, his boots slamming onto the ground with each long pace. “Get back here!”
I also made chase, though I was nowhere near as quick. Mitch had the speed of a lion chasing down prey.
Rounding the corner, I could see that Jeremy had escaped into a small staff-only car park. But it wasn’t an ideal escape byany means. There were high fences around the jumble of cars and a security barrier.
Mitch was close behind him. “Stop! Now!”
But Jeremy didn’t stop, at least not until he realized his mistake. And then he went crashing into the fence, fingers curled into the wire, and spun around. Frantically he glanced left and right, cornered, and when Mitch was only six feet away, he dashed forward, trying to get around him.
But it was no good. Mitch was bigger and faster and had more muscle to throw into the game. He grabbed Jeremy’s upper arm, spun him around, and smashed him up against the fence. The force of their bodies hitting it created a trembling rattle around the car park.
I gasped and rushed closer.
Mitch’s big body held Jeremy hostage with one arm twisted up his back, pinning him in place. He kicked Jeremy’s feet, each in turn, to widen his stance, putting him off balance.
“What you fucking running for?” Mitch snarled into his ear.
I came to a halt and, panting for air, stared at my brother’s screwed-up features.
He, too, was breathing fast. His eyes were closed, and he shucked his shoulders and twisted to try and rid himself of Mitch’s tight hold on him. “Get off me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“So why are you running?” Mitch growled, “Innocent people don’t run.”
