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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY TWO – THE HUNTED

Charlotte's shriek of horror was torn from her very soul as the words detonated in her consciousness like a thunderclap. Her limbs were liquid, her mind overloaded to the point of shattering under the strain. But Julian was already moving again, his strong arms propelling her into a dead sprint towards the alley's far exit. Behind them, shouts and heavy footfalls rang out, carried on the dank night breeze in macabre chorus. "Run!" Julian shouted, his voice edged with the same frantic desperation that threatened to consume Charlotte utterly. "Run, and don't you dare stop or look back! Not for anything!" Somehow, she found her feet pounding the cracked pavement in rhythm with his, putting one foot blindly in front of the other in a mad, staggering flight. Her lungs burned like molten iron in her chest, every gasping breath a fresh torment. A muffled report split the night - once, twice, the staccato cracks of gunfire ricocheting off the alley walls all around them. Charlotte's world

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