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At the local shop, Jack had slid two blocks of chocolate underneath his jacket. Holding his breath, he was about to leave when someone came up behind him and twisted his arm. He grimaced.
The pain in his arm increased as a familiar voice growled, ‘Put it back.’ Jack shoved the chocolate back onto the stand, and Carl released his grip. Jack’s arm ached but he refused to rub it. He hated Carl then.
‘Don’t want to get locked up… You can’t imagine what happens.’
Jack hung his head. Years have passed and yet he hasn’t been able to tell Carl that he let Ewan into their home.
‘Mum would be ashamed. Luckily she isn’t here.’
* * * * *
Jack’s body is contorted. He’s screaming and can see down his throat. His limbs are ripped out… pink flesh… A small boy huddles over and cries… Jack is disappearing, swallowed up… He screams, ‘NO!’
Jack gasps. Blackness has seeped through to his fingers. He wants to get up, but can’t. Darkness engulfs him, then starts to fade. He doesn’t want to die. For a few seconds, the pain in his hand subsides. He makes a decision. The girl has helped him so far, but he has one more request. He knows Izel is fearless.
Day Four
Dawn breaks. His breaths are laboured. Jack lies sprawled on the ground, arms outstretched. His eyes are sunken, and his skin glistens with sweat. He calls out, but it’s a rasping sound. Izel walks slowly towards him. Sunlight is absorbed into the machete’s blade. Their eyes meet. Jack bows his head. No longer afraid, he sees Carl smiling at him. ‘Not yet, mate,’ he whispers, ‘not yet.’
* * * * *
