Holding an axe in each hand, the Narrow Man limped over to his severed foot and shoved his stump on to it, and it reattached.

Milo grabbed Amber, pushed her towards the stairs, and they ran.

Amber led the way into the store. The front door was open. She ignored it, went for the door out back, Milo right behind her. She crashed through. She jumped the wall, clearing it easily, landed beside the Sienna. Milo jumped down with her. Kelly had the door open, but her eyes flicked upwards.

“Look out!” she cried.

The Narrow Man landed between Amber and Milo. Amber dodged under the swipe of the axe, but Milo lunged at him. The Narrow Man dropped one axe and slammed Milo’s head against the wall, then caught him as he stumbled and threw him on to the hood of the Sienna. The windshield cracked under the impact.

Amber glimpsed Austin’s terrified face through the car window. The Narrow Man hadn’t seen him yet.

“Hey!” she shouted, scrambling up. “Hey, asshole! Come get me!”

The Narrow Man didn’t need much in the way of encouragement. Hefting the remaining axe in his right hand, he broke into a run so sudden that it took her by surprise. Amber cursed as she whirled, sure that at any moment that axe would cleave her head in two. Then she was running, fuelled by instinct and fear, the Narrow Man right behind her and gaining all the time.

She jumped another wall, found herself stumbling through someone’s unkempt backyard. The Narrow Man landed cleanly. She threw a lawn chair at him and ran round the side of the house. She tripped on a loose brick, got a hand to a windowsill, and rebounded off, leaving a bloody handprint behind. She was hurt. Jesus, she was hurt and bleeding and she didn’t even know where the wound was.

A car passed on the street ahead. People walked. Kids laughed. She checked behind her, made sure the Narrow Man wasn’t about to pounce, and reverted. Instantly, the pain swarmed in and she gasped. Her shoulder. Her scales hadn’t stopped the axe from biting into her shoulder. Now she could feel the blood rushing from her wound, soaking her chest and belly and back, running into her jeans and underwear. She left a trail of blood as she stumbled from the sidewalk on to the street, clutching herself tightly. She looked back. The Narrow Man changed, too, became shorter, more filled out. His face rearranged itself into a younger version of Javier. Oscar Moreno walked after her with a friendly smile on his face, despite the axe held down by his side and his tattered clothing. Beneath his shirt, his wounds had closed up. No blood pumped.

But he was limping. The foot he’d reattached – it was tender. The Narrow Man felt nothing, but Oscar could experience pain.