Free Boy X by Dan Smith Page B

to the remains of the counter. Alternating between glancing up at the giant shards hanging from the ceiling, and scanning the ground, she searched left and right for what Ash needed, then crouched and held up a stumpy piece of dark wood.
    Ash gave her a thumbs up.
    It didn’t take Isabel long to find another piece the right size, and then she was coming back, holding one in each hand.
    By the time she reached him, Ash was sitting on the top step in just his pyjama bottoms. The sunlight streaming through the hole in the shutters highlighted his ribs beneath his skin as he took the pyjama shirt and ripped it down the middle. When that was done, he folded half the shirt into a long strip and placed it on the step. He took one of the pieces of wood, laid it on top of the strip, then rested his left foot on top of that. When he pulled up the ends of the material, they were like the ends of a giant, fat shoelace that he wrapped around once more and tied together before lifting his foot to test it.
    â€˜It’ll do.’
    He did the same with the other pieces of pyjama and wood, and within a couple of minutes he had a makeshift pair of shoes. It wasn’t easy to walk in them, but he hobbled down the stairs and into the lobby, crunching glass under his weight. The pieces of wood stayed on his feet and the cotton held tight.
    Isabel went ahead to the hole in the shutters and looked out, but as she did so, something moved above, drawing her attention. Her eyes widened in horror and she waved her hands at Ash, making him look up in time to see a spear of glass coming loose right over his head. It was at least as long as his arm, with a dagger-like point.
    Just like in the storeroom, time dropped into treacle-like slow motion. Ash saw the huge piece of glass sway, then slip from the ceiling and begin to fall as if it were on film, being played a few frames at a time. He watched the glass spear drop past him as he took two large steps to the sidebefore it smashed into the ground with a muffled crash. Above him other shards were coming loose. Like a complicated design of dominoes built to fall one after another, each shard of glass dislodged the next. A second slipped from a spot close to the first, and then a third and a fourth so that a nightmare of sharp death began to fall around him, showering him with splinters as they smashed into the floor.
    â€˜ Run! ’ Isabel mouthed, but Ash was already moving faster than ever, running as if through a dream, stiff-legged because of the strange shoes.
    He passed among the shards, anticipating which would fall next, flowing like water, twisting and dodging. One large piece came right at him, but he leant away and it whispered past, hitting the ground and exploding into a thousand pieces. Another just missed his toes as he turned his foot at the last moment – the glass cut like a razor through the cotton binding of the makeshift shoe. Without the material to keep it tight, the piece of wood slipped to one side, threatening to come loose.
    Isabel was already climbing through the hole in the shutters. She threw the satchel into the clearing and followed it out head first. For a moment, all that was visible were her legs disappearing through the opening, and then she was gone.
    The board on Ash’s foot was loosening with each step, and the glass rain was cascading around him like it was never going to stop. Any moment now he expected to feel a sharp pain as something hit him in the head, or sliced through his back to pin him to the floor.
    When the cotton finally ripped away, though, when the piece of wood finally slipped from his foot, leaving it naked to the terrible ground beneath, all he needed was one more step.
    Just one.
    It was the most painful step Ash had ever taken. He trod as lightly as he could, but when the glass cut through his skin, it was like fire enveloping his foot. He gritted his teeth and pushed down, launching himself head first at the hole in the metal