The rain didn't wash away the blood; it just smeared it across the ruins of the patio, turning the white dust into a pink, gritty sludge. I lay there, my chest heaving, feeling the jagged edges of my broken ribs grating against each other with every breath. I reached out, my fingers trembling, and touched Sasha’s face. He was shivering, his skin like ice, but his eyes were wide and focused. He was looking past me, past the smoke and the wreckage, at the man standing by the blue gate.
Leo.
My brother wasn't screaming. He wasn't even moving. He stood there with the megaphone still clutched in his left hand, while his right hand was frozen, fused to the iron nail that had turned into something alive. The metal had liquified, becoming a swarm of black, needle-like threads that were sewing th
