“Don’t run from me, you shitbag,” Simon screamed, but he was being more cautious now, his insanity not completely overriding his common sense. He had been slowed twice now, and he was a little more wary. He laughed, an hysterical cackle. “Come on, Bro, stop.”
Andrew ignored him as he ran up the stairs. In his haste he fell against the steps, banging his knee. It had been a short run, but his lungs ached. His throat, still raw from screaming, was growing sorer, but he did not slow; the adrenalin running through his system would not allow it. He shoved the pain aside and concentrated on only one thing: getting to the top of the stairs and to his father’s study.
He had almost reached the landing when he felt fingers close around his ankle. The grip was surprisingly strong but slick
