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Grame who stood panting at the doorway, a gash above his left eye sending a steady flow of blood down his white face.
    â€œQuick, come to our patch,” he gasped and turned and ran. Miri and Zane hastily followed.
    Both Miri and Zane expected to see wounded Boys, both had even steeled themselves for the sight of ones that had died, but neither of them had prepared for what met them on arrival in Russell Square.
    Most of the gang was clustered tightly around the corner nearest to the barricade. As they both ran over, they heard the sound of sniffling and whimpering of injured Boys, some calling Jay’s name, some of the older ones calling for Miri. She went straight to the nearest, Smudge, on the edge of the crowd, who was clutching his arm, blood seeping out between his fingers that were clasped over the wound.
    Zane instead pushed through the crowd, intent on seeing what was drawing all of the attention. The Boys parted whenthey saw it was him, and then he saw Jay up ahead, still tense with both knives drawn, looking down at a body on the ground in front of him.
    Zane paused mid-step as he approached and blinked in surprise; his eyes were drawn down to the body on the ground, and he pushed past a couple of the bigger Boys to get a better look.
    The Gardner’s face was an awful ashen grey, and his breath was rapid and shallow. He wore the familiar black suit and black tie, but the crisp whiteness of his shirt was spoilt by a deep red bloom spreading out from a point high on the right side of his chest.
    Zane gawped at the sight of him, then dropped onto his knees to swiftly loosen the man’s tie and unbutton his shirt.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Jay demanded in a low growl, but Zane ignored him.
    â€œFinish him off, Jay!” shouted one of the Boys and then others agreed with eager shouts: “Kill him! Get him Jay!” The many voices began to settle into a chilling chant as Zane trembled on his knees, his hands poised above the Gardner’s chest. “Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!”
    Zane, not knowing why–only that he should–placed both of his hands on the Gardner’s skin. The moment he made contact he drew in a sharp breath and what little colour was left in his cheeks drained away rapidly. His eyes darted all over the man’s chest, sometimes focusing on the large stab wound, but mostly lingering in the region of his heart.
    â€œZane!” Jay yelled above the bloodlust chanting. “What the hell are you doing?”
    â€œI can see it!” Zane said back, barely audible above the yells of the crowd around him.
    The man’s eyes fluttered open, rolling around briefly before settling on Zane. “Help me,” he croaked, the breath gurgling and rattling in his failing lungs.
    Zane gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, letting his eyes fall upon the wound. Many of the Boys watched as the blood seeping out of it started to slow.
    â€œHe’s going!” one of them yelled joyfully, thinking that the failing heart was no longer forcing the blood from the wound.
    â€œIt’s not enough!” Zane muttered, unheard above the jeering.
    None of the Boys noticed the sweat break out onto Zane’s forehead; they only saw the Gardner’s dying breaths. With delight, they rejoiced in the moment when the tension in his agonised body drained away to leave him lying there, staring up at Zane with glassy eyes. Zane cried out in despair and pulled back, as if the body had suddenly become very cold and was freezing him.
    An ecstatic roar leapt up from the Boys and Jay held the knives, still coated with his opponent’s blood, high above his head for all to see. Several of the Boys nearest to the body began to kick it, and Zane crawled away to let them close in around it, desperate for air. He managed to emerge from the crowd and stagger to his feet only to double over and vomit into one of the drains nearby.

Chapter 5
JAY’S CHALLENGE
    Once again