Large heaps of people blocked our view when we arrived at the hustling train station. My fingers were still shaking from what had just happened back at the apartment. Images of Darren's lifeless body flashed through my mind, and I found myself flinching everytime I saw the colour red.

Harry was leading us through the loud crowds with a bag in hand. I didn't know how he could be so strong. He had a bleeding arm but he had refused to stop by at the hospital, claiming the cut wasn't deep. I had wrapped a piece of cloth around his injury in the car before he drove us here.

Outwardly, I may have appeared lifeless but on the inside I was panicking. I had never left town before, and now all of a sudden, we were leaving it forever. I could feel my stomach growing tighter and my eyes were verging on tears but I knew this wasn't the time to start getting emotional. We had to be strong.

I wondered how we would even manage to get on the train. There were too many people and there was obviously very little chance that we would be let on. Everyone seemed to be brimming with energy and aggression, like they were ready to fight to earn a spot in the train, while we were completely burned out. But the possibility that we were being followed kept us moving. Damian and Richard had eyes practically everywhere in Fleese, so we couldn't risk anything.

My mother looked out of breath, and Jakey was very quiet. I worried for my brother. He was still so young and he'd been scarred enough. The queue was extremely long, if it can even be called one. People were spread out everywhere, everything was so disorganised and my head was spinning. The bag I carried was suddenly so heavy, I was losing momentum.

After the occasional elbow to my ribs and squeezing through the tight gaps of people, we reached the front of the mob. There was a group of police officers trying to calm the crowd. Though they were in uniform, I'd stayed here long enough to know that they weren't real police officers. They were corrupt in some way, undoubtedly they'd have been involved in some sort of bribery.

Harry stopped in his tracks and allowed my family and I to stand infront so we would get on board first. "Hey, hey!" Harry yelled above all the noise. Once he'd gotten the attention of the train manager at the entrance, he slipped notes of cash into the man's waistcoat pocket. Words I couldn't hear were exchanged between them before the train manager gestured for the four of us to move forward.

But some observant eyes were quick to catch what was going on, and suddenly there were people yelling at us. I snapped my head back to look at Harry and he gave me a reassuring nod, prompting me to keep moving.

"Fucking snobs! We've been waiting for hours!" One complained.

"We should be let on first!" Another shouted right in my ear. I felt terrible for this, and I kept my head down as I made my way through the worked up crowd. My mother and Jakey did the same as they walked infront of me.

Then there were prominent gasps from behind. I quickly turned to see Harry's face twisting in anger and pain as he held onto his wounded arm. He'd been nudged, most probably shoved by someone who was unhappy with the advantage we had.

"Get away! Get away!" My throat hurt as I called for people to move away from Harry. My eyes propelled around to search for the person who had hurt him but they all looked equally bitter that it was impossible to tell who it was.

"Keep moving." Harry groaned, his eyebrows pinching together. I mentally blocked out the loud complaints the people were throwing at us as I removed his hand from his arm. I gasped at the severity of the injury and quickly pressed my palm to my mouth. The entirety of the sleeve of his shirt had turned a dark red. He was losing a lot of blood. Momentarily, my thoughts reeled back to a few nights ago when I woke up in a pool of my own blood.

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