40
TOOTH AND NAIL
Raven
I see the car ahead with absolutely no sign of AJ anywhere in this shit-hole. “Where is he?”
The roar of Jay’s engine through the earpiece loud and clear; he’s a little ahead of me and seems to be closing in on the car.
“Not a clue; I lost him when he cut through the alley,” Jay responds just as casually as you would place an order at a McDonald’s drive-through.
“For fuc—watch out!” I slam on the brakes and hit an oil patch that sends both me and my new bike skidding across the pavement, aiming for the bumper of Jay’s car.
Jay swerves just in time to miss her.
Ciara’s scream is louder than the screeching tyres, she narrowly avoids being hit by my rogue Suzuki Hayabusa.
Pulling myself up from the ground, I see Ciara running towards me. “She was right behind me! She was right fucking behind me!” She collapses into my arms, a bloodied, howling heep.
“Where? Where is she?” I demand, hearing the roar of AJ’s Kawasaki through the earpiece, he can hear us, just as I can hear him breathing heavily on the other end of the line.
Ciara points to a derelict building across the street, tears streaming down her face as she turns to take off.
“Woah.” I grab her by the hips and pull her back. “You’re in no shape to be running anywhere.”
“They have my sister!” She fights against my grip, desperation in her eyes.
“And you,” I stop myself before saying that she looks like the elephant man. Her face is cut, swollen, bruised, and covered in blood. Thankfully, I don’t have to think of a better way to put it. The car we’ve been chasing pulls up outside the building, and just as the driver kills the engine, an enormous green blur streaks past us, heading straight for the car.
AJ pulls on the handlebars of his Kawasaki, lifting the front wheel off the ground as he hits a ramp and sails through the air.
It seems to happen in slow motion; AJ hits the ground in a tumble and his bike smashes through the windscreen of the car, killing the driver instantly.
“Don’t have to worry now; he’s got it,” is all I can think to say, pulling Ciara closer as the shit storm begins to unfold.
* * *
KATIE
I kick and claw at every surface around me, desperate to cling onto anything solid and avoid going back to that room. Ciara got out. She got out; even if I don’t, that’s all that matters.
They would have taken us both. I saw them coming, and I knew I had to do something. I got one, just one—the guy that was eating the chicken fillet roll earlier.
The other took off after my sister, while the arsehole that stole my finger has been fighting me tooth and nail—literally. I’ve lost three fingernails to a doorjamb, the floorboards, and an old counter, and at least one tooth went flying when he punched me in the face.
His chubby fingers claw at my hair and yank me backwards. Turning into his grip, I manage to elbow him in the stomach; his grip loosens enough that I chance my arm at a run, only his hand closes into a fist, and my neck snaps back, my legs giving out from under me.
One large boot connects with my ribs, knocking the wind out of me.
Christ, I think he broke something.
Another boot lifts my abused body off the ground and sends my back crashing against the sharp edge of the corner wall. The pain is excruciating, shooting through my body like a bolt of lightning.
The guy pulls out something, though my now-one-good eye can’t quite make out what it is, with black swirls of darkness clouding my vision. I can feel blood trickling down my face as he edges closer. “I’m goin’ to ask you one last time.”
A knife. It’s definitely a knife.
“Where is he?”
