I felt something press against my ankle and heard a click. I looked down, too late, to see a tripwire had been stretched across the alley.

Then the strangest thing happened: I saw myself die – and also escape death – not just once, but multiple times.

I saw how the detonation neatly separated my legs from my upper torso, like taking a piece of soft toffee and twisting it in half.

I saw the silver wire tense against my ankle, heard the same click, the crude, home-made mine somehow failing to detonate.

I saw myself take an entirely different route, never encountering the tripwire.

I saw sunlight glinting from the tripwire, making me hesitate just at the last moment.

I saw all of these, superimposed on each other, somehow happening, yet not happening, all at once.

Then I was somewhere else – somewhere that was neither here nor there. It was as if I had suddenly found myself in a darkened cinema, the alleyway reduced to a kind of projection, with me standing outside the universe and looking in.

A myriad possible outcomes merged and broke apart, until it became impossible to distinguish one from another.

‘Hello, Jerry,’ said a voice, and I crashed back into the real world to find Haden Brooks crouched against the wall beside me, his eyes flashing silver in the sun.

TWENTY-FOUR

I looked down again at the tripwire, almost invisible in the sunlight, just inches from my foot. One more step . . .

And yet I could clearly remember walking straight into it. I had heard the click, felt the heat and thunder of the detonation as it tore me apart . . .

Or had I? It was getting hard to remember, like trying to hold on to the memory of a dream.

I shuffled slowly back from the tripwire, my nerves singing with imagined pain.

‘What the hell did you just do?’ I demanded, my fear morphing into fury. ‘And where the hell did you . . .’

‘I interfered,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t supposed to.’

‘You . . . interfered?’ I stared down again at the wire, then back up at Haden. ‘Nobody could find you,’ I said. ‘You disappeared. I thought maybe the Patriots locked you in a cell, or you ran away once the fighting started . . .’

He shook his head. ‘None of the above.’

‘Haden,’ I said, ‘how can you even be here?’

‘You still have time,’ he said. ‘Here.’ His hand pressed something into mine. I looked down and saw an envelope crumpled into my palm.

I looked back up at him. ‘What the hell?’

‘You won’t see me again,’ he said, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder, a warm grin on his face. ‘It’s been good, Jerry,’ he said, taking a step back.

‘Haden, wait. I . . .’

I blinked and looked around. My position had changed. I was once again standing with my foot just inches from the tripwire.

I stepped back again, darting my head around wildly. There was no sign of Haden.