The City's Son by Tom Pollock Read Free Book Online

attitude was pissing her off. ‘I just saved your bloody life, right?’
    The boy made to protest, but she held up her hand. ‘ Don’t interrupt me. Admit it or not, I saved your life. Now, if you’re going to turn around and get killed, I might as well not have bothered. Frankly, I resent the wasted bloody effort.’
    The boy’s face deepened to an even filthier shade of grey. ‘I saved your life, too,’ he snapped.
    ‘Yeah,’ Beth said, ‘twice. What’s your point? Because you saved my life, I’m not supposed to give a crap that someone’s trying to take yours?’
    ‘What?’ Now the boy looked confused.
    ‘You asked why I should care.’ Beth pronounced the words with exaggerated patience. ‘Why shouldn’t I bloody care? Why did you even tell me if you didn’t expect me to care? Ooh, “ Someone’s trying to kill me ”.’ She slapped her cheeks in mock horror. ‘Am I supposed to be impressed by that?’
    The boy blinked. His forehead wrinkled. ‘Well, aren’t you?’ he said in a small voice.
    ‘YES!’ Beth yelled. ‘I BLOODY AM! THAT’S WHY I’M ASKING!’ She sat down hard on the gravel.
    The boy, looking both sheepish and thoroughly confused, sat down beside her. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Thanks for saving me.’
    Beth breathed out hard. ‘Back at you,’ she said, then stuck out a hand. ‘I’m Beth.’ He took it, but didn’t say anything. ‘And your name is?’
    He just shook his head.
    ‘Fine, be bloody mysterious.’ She sighed. ‘But if this was my school and you didn’t give yourself a name they’d give you one of their own, know what I mean? And trust me, you wouldn’t like it.’
    They’d probably just call you Urchin , she thought. That’s what I’d call you. That’s what you look like: a five-years-later snapshot from a ‘Help a London Child’ campaign.
    They sat a moment in silence He rubbed at the inside of his wrist and for the first time, Beth noticed the mark there: a tattoo, slate-grey against his lighter skin. It looked like a semicircle of tower blocks, arranged to form the spokes of a crown.
    ‘So who is trying to kill—?’ she began, but he cut her off sharply.
    ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t ask questions – don’t try. You saw monsters tonight.’ He gave a sickly grin. ‘And I’m probably the worst of the lot, so just forget me. You people can forget anything if you try hard enough.’
    ‘Come on,’ Beth protested, ‘whoever it is, he can’t be that bad. The way you took on that train-thing—’
    ‘He’s worse,’ he said flatly.
    ‘Yeah, but still—Whoever he is, I bet we could take him.’ We. She didn’t know why she’d said that.
    Pavement-grey eyes met hers. He smiled, and she smiled back, but then he shook his head ruefully. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, you’re fun – in a bone-breaking kind of a way. Maybe, after this is all over, you can come find me.’ His smile was wan. It didn’t look like he was holding out much hope that ‘after this was over’ there’d be much left to find.
    ‘Where would I look for you?’ Beth asked.
    He hesitated, and then said, ‘Your accent says Hackney …’
    She nodded.
    ‘All right, Hackney Girl, look for me at the dance where the light itself is the music, where the Railwraith’s rush beats the drums.’ He eyed her appraisingly. ‘Look for me in the broken light, when this is all over, and maybe then we’ll dance. But for now, go. It’s gonna be bad enough me trying stand against what’s coming. I can’t be tripping over you too.’
    The dismissal felt like a fist clenching around Beth’s guts. ‘Why not?’ she whispered.
    He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘Because I saved your life,’ he said, ‘and I don’t want to resent the wasted effort.’
    ‘Look, mate—’ Beth began, but in that same moment the grey-skinned boy sprang up and sprinted away along the tracks.
    Beth swore and pushed herself after him. She had never run so fast; her