by Tom Pollock
“Stop! Police!”
I yank Polly into my arms; she’s as light as a sparrow. With a last shove from my wrecked legs I bundle us out into the night.
“Aaaaaaaaaaah!” Burning erupts along my spine as I slide down the tiles, and then we hit the gravel with a crunch.
A single shot cracks the night, and tiny pebbles fly beside my head.
I lurch to my feet, dragging Polly with me, hauling her around in front of me, desperate to keep my body between her and them. We break into a shambling run.
“The cameras,” I gasp to her. “We have to reach the cameras.” I slip my hand into my pocket and open a stream, but that won’t be enough. For this we need to be seen.
The grass is cold and dew-slick under my bare soles. If I slip we’re dead. If I stumble we’re dead. We stagger out across the lawn, and onto the harsh asphalt of the road.
“Stop! Police!”
With every step I expect a bullet. An end. And with every step it doesn’t come and I take another. I can’t give them a shot.
“Amy? Amy! Are you all right?”
A familiar voice. Dad. I jerk my head up. Somehow, we’ve reached the cordon. Bodies press in all around.
“Ame?”
“Charlie?” I gasp.
And there he is, his hand clasped in his dad’s, bandages pressing pads against his eyes. He turns his head, searching for the source of my voice.
For a moment I quail at what he’s about to find out, at how he’s about to feel. But then I remember holding him outside Mum’s bedroom, whispering, You shouldn’t have to see her like that.
No, he shouldn’t. But it’s the truth, and I can’t protect him from it. I never could.
“POLICE!” The bellow deafens me, just as I feel a shove in my back and we sprawl forward. Polly grunts as she hits the pavement. The asphalt grazes my hands. Gun barrels hem us in like the branches of a thorn thicket, but camera lights are flashing; people are recording.
“Don’t point those things at my daughter!” Dad’s struggling through the press, trying to reach me.
“Don’t SHOOT!” I scream it hard enough to tear my throat, begging the microphones on all the phones pointed at us to pick it up. “WE SURRENDER!”
The rifle barrels twitch. Camera flashes gleam off their masks and their ID badges. I feel the cops’ hesitation. Muscles screaming in protest, I shove myself up on my forearms and throw myself across Polly’s prone form. I cling to her, my head sideways, covering hers, her breath warm against my cheek. My ribs are pressed to hers; I can feel the outline of Mum’s phone in her pocket, pressing into my side. I can feel the swell of her breath, the tremor of her pulse, and with every beat of it, I know we’re still alive.
My heart beside her heart, where it began.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This was a weird one. Written in bursts over seven months as the subject matter constantly evolved around it. I wouldn’t have got it done without the dedication and consistent professional excellence of all at Team Walker. Most especially my brilliant editor Frances Taffinder (suffice to say the edit on this one was detailed, complex and you just read a much better book for it), as well as publishing’s wisest human Denise Johnstone-Burt, publicity supremos Rosi Crawley, John Moore, Becca Oram and Kirsten Cozens, typesetter par excellence Anna Robinette and cover art legend Maria Soler Canton …
… who never would have had a chance to work on it at all if it hadn’t been for my heroic agenting team. First and foremost, Nancy Miles, who not only has my back, but my sides and my front as well, Caroline Hill-Trevor, Alice Natali, Clemmie Gaisman and Emily Hayward-Whitlock for their relentless enthusiasm and skill in pushing my stuff at people in all places and in all media.
Three friends in particular were invaluable in helping me land this one: Emma Trevayne, Emily Richards and Amy McCulloch. Legends one and all.
My family I rely on for basically everything, so Sarah, Dad, Matt, Jasper, Barbara, Robin, Moira, Sally, Livs, Chris, Aislinn, Toby, Arijana, James and Rachel, love and gratitude, for being there.
And finally Lizzie, my rock, lover, tolerator-in-chief, without whose commitment to the best and worst the internet has to offer, this book would certainly not exist: I love you with all of my everything. Thank you.
TOM POLLOCK has been described as “a powerful new imagination” by the Guardian. He is the author of five novels, including the critically acclaimed White Rabbit, Red Wolf. Heartstream is his second novel for young adults. He is also an ambassador for TalkLife, the peer support network for youth mental health. Tom lives and works in London and can be found on Twitter: @tomhpollock
Also by Tom Pollock
White Rabbit, Red Wolf
PRAISE FOR WHITE RABBIT, RED WOLF
“A gripping and gloriously treacherous thriller without guide ropes or safety nets. Leave all certainties by the door.”
Frances Hardinge, author of The Lie Tree
“In this dark and twisted thriller, nothing is what it seems; but Pollock’s greatest triumph is the portrait of a psyche at war with itself.”
The Guardian
“Exceptional. It’s funny, bleak and emotionally brutal, and had me permanently on the edge of my seat.”
Jon Courtenay Grimwood, author of Moskva, The Last Banquet and 9Tail Fox
“Dazzling. It’s as though Escher and Schrödinger had collaborated on a thriller.”
M. R. Carey, author of The Girl With All The Gifts
“Smart, complex and dizzyingly twisty.”
The Bookseller
“Revelatory about mental health, ingeniously constructed and a thrilling ride.”
The Sunday Times, Children’s Book of the Week
“A dazzling, dizzying rollercoaster of a novel, about memory and family and other things you can’t completely trust. It will twist your brain in the best possible way.”
Will Hill, author of After the Fire
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.
First published in Great Britain 2019 by Walker Books Ltd
87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ
Text © 2019 Tom Pollock
Shatter effect image © 2019 Ihor Svetiukha / Alamy Stock Vector
The right of Tom Pollock to be identified as author of this
work has been asserted by him in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:
a catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-1-4063-9002-5 (ePub)
www.walker.co.uk
