Dead at First Sight

56 Tuesday 9 October

Jules de Copeland stood out in the dark street, his hoodie pulled even lower over his face, waiting for his idiot companion who had dashed back into the house. Suddenly Ogwang appeared, holding his machete, which was now dripping blood.

‘What you done, man?’

‘He’s gotta learn.’

‘What you done, you douchebag? What the fuck you done?’ He could hear the piercing scream from inside the house.

Then a different scream. A police siren.

‘Split! Gimme your blade!’

‘No way.’

The siren was getting closer.

Copeland looked around in panic. His brain was spinning. This was a one-way street.

Right was against the traffic. Left was with it. He sprinted to the left. Ogwang followed.

Moments later, the siren louder, they were lit up by headlights.