Behind the Walls. NOVEL By Claire Darcy.

67. No Matter the Cost.

ACE.

I hit the ground running. Scrabbling across the gravel in an erratic zig-zag, I avoided being hit by the beams of light from the stunners. And bullets from the other guns.

"Get behind the buildings!" Tyler ordered to the others as we dispersed along the footpaths. I chased after the group and slammed hard against the wall, breathing heavily. We were in an alleyway. Some had already run out the other side and gotten to safety, the rest of us stayed and defended them. I switched out my stunner for the old-fashioned gun with the metal bullets. It was heavier in my hand but felt balanced - and like it could do more damage.

The girls from Group 1 joined the fray, struggling to get out of the line of fire. I felt a searing pain on my shoulder before I realised I'd been shot with a stunner. There were sparks where the wound should have been. I looked across to the ground floor of Building One, seeing a barricade of guards ducked behind concrete ledges. They were being picked off, one by one. I wasn't sure if that were dying or not. Suddenly, from across the firing space between the guards and rebels, I saw the techies from Group 3, racing right towards the line of the Council's fire.

"Josh!" I screamed. Dallas yelled, "Andy!" at the same time, but they just ran straight forward, pursued by more soldiers. Bullets whizzed past their heads, but they weren't expecting them to come from the side. The soldiers ducked near Building One turned their weapons from us towards Group 3.

The bullets hit concrete and sent dust flying, then they rained down on the desperately scrambling boys. Josh was the fastest, he bolted into the safety of the alleyway and collapsed against the wall. A couple of others followed.

Then everything stilled as Andy did.

He jolted, locked in place with wide eyes.

It was like an echo. A photograph where the background is still but the subject is blurred. Like a silent film in black and white. A glitch. A smudge. A spill of ink on snow-white paper. It was wrong, it was ugly, it was pain.

Andy fell slowly like he was being lowered by ropes from the sky. His blue hair shone in the moonlight, waving as he seemed to brush on the floor and lift up again, finally to rest against the cement. A scream split the sky- louder than a gunshot. I heard the word. It played in my head over and over. It was all any of us could think.

"NO!"

The scream came from Dallas. Dallas, with his proud, upturned nose and laughing eyes. Dallas, without a care in the world.

"Hold your fire!" I screamed. For some reason, the soldiers obeyed.

The gunshots from either side of the battle were silenced. Josh tore a strip off his white shirt and waved it in the air
for surrender.

It was Dallas whose pounding footsteps broke the silence as he collapsed to his knees at Andy's side.

"No," he hissed, over and over again, "No, no, no, no, no. Please no."

I was vaguely aware of Tyler rushing past me, of the others moving to ease Dallas away from Andy. But I couldn't move. And as they drew closer, neither could they. Dallas' shoulders trembled as he pulled Andy towards himself. For a moment, there was a silent embrace. And then he sobbed. Choked, gurgling cries that could not be restrained; Dallas bawled. His face poured; a mixture of tears, sweat, snot and saliva. It was a mess. He didn't care. All he cared about was the limp body that lay in his lap. Andy. No, not Andy. Please, not Andy.

Finally, time sped up.

I ran over to Dallas, tripping as I saw Andy's blue hair, suddenly not so blue. His cobalt locks were blackened with the crimson stain of death.