“First, you leave that body,” Vex replied. “The body of a child is going to do you no good.”

The boy got to his feet. “Actually, this is probably the best body to have right now. You’re not attacking me, are you? No one wants to hurt a kid.”

“I hate kids,” said Dai.

The boy laughed. “I won’t be in this one for long, don’t worry. I’m just here to deliver this message: you should run.”

“Remnants aren’t usually in the habit of warning people,” said Saracen.

“Things have changed,” said the boy. “My brethren have gone on – most of them anyway. I’ll join them later, once you understand that we’re not the threat you think we are.”

“You’re Remnants,” said Saracen. “You are exactly the threat we think you are.”

“Then why haven’t we taken over this town? Why aren’t we killing everyone?”

“Because Darquesse told you to lie low.”

The boy shook his head. “Darquesse doesn’t give us orders any more. She only thinks she does. We’re not going to disobey her, of course – we’re not stupid – but we’re not going to help her, either. We have our own plans now.”

“Where are the others?” Vex asked.

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Things will go better for you if you do.”

“Better for me? Oh, no, no, no. I’ve given you the warnings. It’s your time that’s up, not mine. If you had just turned round and gone home, you could have remained yourselves for the next few days. That would have been something, at least. But now you’re ours.”

“I don’t think so,” said Vex.

The boy smiled. “Oh, it’s already begun.”

Dai cracked his elbow into Vex’s jaw and Vex went down. Saracen spun and Dai slammed a headbutt into his face that sent him staggering against Donegan. Fletcher glimpsed a Remnant darting from the shadows. It latched on to Vex and prised open his mouth.

Gracious knocked Dai off his feet as more Remnants flitted towards them. He grabbed Fletcher’s hand and Fletcher linked up with the others, and in the space of a heartbeat they were back in the Sanctuary. Safe. Secure.

And down two men.

32

THE JOB OFFER

incent Foe liked mortal bars.

There was something refreshingly anonymous about them. He could drink here and not worry about running into someone he’d wronged in the past. And he had wronged a lot of people, it had to be said. Such were the casualties of the war he was waging, a war to take out as many people as possible when he died. It was an unusual war, he freely admitted. In fact, during all his time on this earth, he had met only four other people who shared his dream, and three of those were now in what was commonly referred to as his ‘gang’.