She burst from the trees as a motorcycle charged up the trail next to her. The Hound snatched the air close to her shoulder. Amber ducked and skidded on wet grass, went tumbling down an incline. Even as she tumbled, she was aware of the bike crashing, but that brought no sense of triumph – there was a black shape now sprinting down the incline after her.

Amber levelled out and rolled and launched herself up. Get to the farmhouse. Get inside. Find a weapon. The Hound was right behind her. She left the grass and ran on dirt. His footsteps were heavy but quick. Too quick. He was gaining. He was about to catch her.

The Hound snagged the back of her jacket and Amber jumped, letting her momentum take her forward even as she twisted. In mid-air she went to slash him across the face, but her body buzzed and she realised she was passing through the barrier, into the town. The Hound hit empty space, his entire body slamming into a wall of nothing, his sunglasses smashing, and he staggered back even as she hit the ground.

Amber rolled to her knees. Sucking in lungfuls of air, she grinned, and stood, safe behind the invisible wall, and gave him the finger.

The Hound straightened. His eyes burned with the same orange glow that radiated from the Shining Demon. Her grin faltered. The Hound pulled another pair of sunglasses from his jacket, and put them on. Amber backed away, then turned and hurried to the farmhouse.

She sank into the shadows, came round the corner, and saw an old man standing at the back of the truck, pulling the tarp off Milo. Milo hadn’t shifted when he’d passed through the barrier. She dreaded to think what that might say about his strength, but she knew it wasn’t good.

She reverted and zipped up her jacket. Her shirt was torn. Her pants were torn, too, especially around her ass, but there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about that.

The old man, though. Amber recognised him. He was the old guy who’d cut up her breakfast. His name. His name. He’d told her his name and she’d forgotten it. What was his damn—

“Benjamin?” she said, and he turned, eyes wide. She held up her hands as she emerged from the darkness. “Benjamin, we talked a few days ago. At Fast Danny’s. My name’s Amber. That’s Milo.”

For a long while, Benjamin didn’t say anything. Then he shook his head. “I don’t think I should be involved in this.”

“I’m not involving you,” Amber told him quickly. “We just had to get away. You saw those bikers, right?”

“None of my business.”

“Benjamin, my friend is badly hurt. Look at him. He’s dying.”

“I should call the police,” he said, and started towards the farmhouse. Amber darted into his path.