“He was lying on an uneven surface, his legs twisted at awkward angles. Somewhere above him, he could hear breathing, and he realised he was still holding Angelo’s hand. “Are we there?” he asked quietly. “Are we in Hell?” “Um, no, not yet,” Angelo replied. “Not unless I’ve really messed up. I’ve just jumped your soul back into your body.” Zac pulled his hand free and felt around on the floor beneath him. Shoes. He was sitting on shoes. “The cupboard,” he said. “We’re in my cupboard.” He untwiste...d his legs and kicked open the door, revealing his bedroom. The curtains were still closed and the bookcase was still in front of the door, but there was no sign of the Monk anywhere. Zac stood and looked down at his stomach. A round hole had been torn through his T-shirt. He reached round and felt his back. There was another hole there, slightly larger than the one on the front. The material round both holes was slick with blood, but his body itself was gunshot-wound free.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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