Nick turned his attention back to Sam, who was struggling to open his eyes properly, squinting in the bright light. He saw that Nick was having trouble, too; his eyes were red and tears streamed down his face. He wiped them away and blinked at Sam, raising his knife. It was old and well used, with a wide, curved blade, worn thin from constant sharpening. He took a swipe at Sam, who ducked. He felt the knife swish across the back of his head, ruffling his hair. Nick immediately brought the knife back again, and as Sam dodged to the side, he felt a sting in his neck. He backed away, down some steps, toward the road. He splashed through a puddle. It had been raining. He realized that the sun wasn’t even out. Though the clouds were beginning to break up in the sky.

He was breathing fast. He knew he couldn’t keep this up for long. Nick was too big, too fit. Sam was just a kid.

“Hold still, you little pig,” Nick hissed. “I’ll make it quick and painless for you. If you muck me about, though, I’ll string you upside down and bleed you slowly, just you see that I do. You’ll feel every minute of it. I promise you that. Now, hold still.”

“Go to hell!” Sam shouted, his voice a hoarse croak.

“I’m already there,” said Nick, and he chuckled, so sure was he of success. “Didn’t you know I was Satan, hisself? Old Nick. That’s me.”

Sam swore at him, using all the dirty words he’d ever heard, and some he’d made up. Nick just laughed louder.

Sam scrambled under a van, and for a moment felt safe, until he realized he was trapped now.

Idiot.

He should have run.

The ground here was oily, and he was soon black with filth. He saw Nick’s lower legs as he stalked around the van, banging on the sides and calling out in a high-pitched voice.

“Here, piggy-piggy-piggy, come to Nick.” Then he stopped and ducked down. Sam saw his grinning face appear below the edge of the van. He reached out a hand for Sam, who just managed to slither back from it. But it was a bluff. Nick quickly dodged around the van and made another grab for him. As Sam tried to shift again, his shirt caught on something and he was stuck. Then he felt Nick’s hand take hold of him, and he was dragged out, kicking and yelling.

Sam looked for the Kid and saw him struggling groggily to his feet over by the statue. The Kid then bent double and vomited. Nick tucked Sam under his arm, clamping him tight, and strode back over to the Kid. Nick aimed a kick at

his backside and pitched him into the street.

The Kid wasn’t going to be any help.