Running with Rogues

CHAPTER 4 - FIRESTORM

"Sorry," I said, because it was all I could say. "I really am, you know. Not that it counts for shit these days..."

He thrashed against the bindings, closing his eyes to link the men outside as he tugged and tugged and made the radiator clang against the wall. I started climbing the stairs as fast as I could manage. Every step made it feel like my thigh was tearing in half.

Nia was waiting for me on the landing. There was a nasty gash on her left cheek, and it was starting to swell. She mussed up my hair. "Nice job, pup. Lil and Dev reached the border, so we'll give them another minute and then we'll scram. Can you run on that leg?"

No. Not very far, anyway.

"Yeah," I said. "Definitely."

She nodded. One glimpse of my mind and she'd know I was lying, but she didn't do that to family. It was the ultimate invasion of privacy, and besides, we all knew how to shield. She could still push her way in, of course, but I'd know what she'd done.

"Careful of the windows," she said. "The dipshits out front are throwing rocks."

Well, that explained her cheek, at least. Even as she said it, I heard glass shatter to our right and a chunk of masonry dented the plasterboard. It was large enough to have cracked my skull.

"Not even close!" I shouted at the trees.

There was a bang and the wall at my back trembled, because some idiot had been too busy aiming for my voice to remember he couldn't smash through a solid brick wall. At this point, they would have done much better storming the house, but they didn't know we'd run out of firebombs.

Nia led the way to the side of the house. She, too, had found the bedroom with the drainpipe and the cleanest chance at a getaway. It seemed an awful lot smaller when I had to share it with my six-foot cousin. We weren't like, completely sure how she'd grown so big. Her mam was five-five and her dad was average height and wiry.

"You first," she said.

I took a hasty step backwards. "This was your bloody idea. You're going first."

Nia crooked a smile. "Scared of heights, Eva?"

"Not scared of heights. Love heights. Scared of falling and breaking my pretty neck."

"Well, we ain't falling. We're jumping. You jump at Llechi just fine, don't you?" she asked slowly and deliberately, like she was speaking to a pup.

"There's water at Llechi," I muttered. "That's solid ground down there, that is."

She sighed. We were running out of time — I could hear the packlings thumping on the door again, and then came glass shattering as they tried the windows instead. "Alright, I'll go, but you'd better bloody follow..."

"I'll take falling over flockies any day," I assured her.

"Last one," she told me, handing over a bottle of liquor and her lighter. "Make it count, yeah?"

We could hear the packlings talking in low voices. They were definitely inside now. I gave the staircase a pointed look. "Duh."

Nia took out her knife and used the hilt to smash the bedroom window. She knocked out all the jagged shards, then used the girl's bedclothes to cover the rest. Once that was done, she eased herself onto the sill and lowered herself out of the window. I didn't wait to see her land. Instead, I crept back onto the landing and braced the cocktail in my hand.

Footsteps on the stairs. They were quiet and slow, like the packlings were trying a sneak attack. Lucky for me, they were about as sneaky as buffalos in a china shop. The wood was creaking beneath their boots, and I could hear muffled coughs from smoke-filled lungs.

I waited painstakingly until they were halfway up. Then I flicked the lighter catch and held it to the shred of tea-towel hanging out of the bottle. It took a second to catch, and I waited another second before I hurled it down the stairs. The explosion of heat and flames was ... satisfying. The screaming which followed ... less so. I didn't enjoy hurting people — not even packlings — but they did want me dead.

A wave of scorching heat washed over my skin, searing it even from such a distance. I backed away — slowly at first, then faster once I'd reached the bedroom. Nia was nowhere to be seen, so she must have landed just fine, but she was taller than me. Not so far to fall. I didn't lower myself out of the window and drop from there. Instead, I clambered onto the guttering and began easing myself down.

I had made it a few feet before I heard a series of cracks, each closer than the last. The gutter began to peel away from the wall, and I had less than a second to throw myself to the ground before I got no choice in the matter. I landed hard on my back and hip, but Nia darted out from the undergrowth to nudge me to my feet.

And then I shifted. Nothing was broken — that became clear. My paws touched leaves and dirt, and I could feel the wind on my pelt and pick out the sharp stench of smoke in the air. Nia took off as soon as I was wearing my fur, and I paused just long enough to pick up my knife in my jaws before ploughing after her.

It was time to run.