“You’ve had enough, Ethan,” the barman said. “You’re done for tonight.”

“This bastard...”

And as quick as Pack had attacked him, the barman was pulling at Pack’s arm. His hand suddenly pulled away, so Robin could get out of his grip. He clutched his throbbing wrist. “Get out of here,” the barman said, still wrestling with Pack’s arm. “Now.”

Robin took one more look, but it seemed like the man was holding his own. He didn’t want to know what Pack would do when he got out of the man’s embrace. He was deranged. And as he watched, Pack shrugged the man off.

Robin didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself out of The Hamlet and into the brisk afternoon. The sun blinded him momentarily, but he shook his head and found himself heading down the street.

He heard a clatter behind him and an enraged scream. Ethan Pack leaving The Hamlet. And then loud booming steps coming closer. He didn’t look around—couldn’t bring himself to. What was happening? Had the world suddenly gone mad?

No. Just one man.

Robin didn’t want to know what would happen if Pack caught up. But Pack had the advantage. He knew the town, and if he was intent on pursuing Robin, it was only a matter of time before he caught up.

Robin flew down the street, knowing Pack wasn’t far behind. He had to find somewhere to...

There. Between one of the charity shops and a café was an incredibly narrow alleyway. He didn’t even think. He just ducked down it.

It was dark and cluttered, barely wide enough for him to walk between. His footfalls seemed to echo, bouncing off the walls. About halfway down the alley was a collection of bins and two doors either side, leading into both businesses. He heard Pack somewhere behind him and ducked behind the bins.

His heart quickened as the footfalls behind him stopped. He looked down the alley through a minute gap between two bins. Pack was standing at the entrance to the alley, illuminated by the daylight. He almost looked biblical. He turned away.

And at that moment, Robin accidentally nudged one of the bins with his shoulder, and it came crashing down—a horribly final sound of mistake. He was still concealed, but Pack’s attention was back. Pack stepped into the alley.

Robin’s heart missed a beat.

And then a hand reached out and grabbed his.

He jumped out of his skin, looking round to see a young girl peering down at him. She looked familiar. Hoodie. Black hair tied in a bun. Headphones. “You...” The girl that was watching him in the prison.

“Run,” she said, and pulled Robin up.

Robin was up before he could think. And the girl started pelting down the alley away from Pack. Robin followed her. Right to the end of the alley.