Book Girl and Chestnut Boy

Prologue

It was on a bleak autumn day when Layton's world turned upside-down. Surrounded by grey on all sides, the two gangs went at it full throttle, knowing the quiet industrial estate with the abandoned warehouses would afford them plenty of opportunity to "do business" without adult intervention.

In the midst of boys yelling war cries or grunting with the effort to dispatch more foes or screaming in pain as some fell on what Layton had initially imagined would be a heroic battlefield – the West Hill Gang had, after all, impinged on their territory, with the aim of distributing drugs, so it was only right that they suffer the consequences – he got rid of his current opponent by a swift kick into the abdomen and shoved him out of the way. Then he turned to survey his side. They were winning – some of the West Hill idiots had fled already – but his eyes locked on a lanky figure with long blond hair as he engaged another boy in a fistfight, but someone came up behind him, brandishing a knife.

Tony screamed. All sounds ceased save for Layton's erratic heartbeat. Eyes wide, he pushed his way through the chaos and made his way to his best friend.

"You don't want to do this, Layton." Tony said, trailing after him as he walked to their "HQ" in preparation for the big fight. "It's no good. I-I don't want to do this anymore and I don't think you should either. Let's just call it quits while we're still good, eh?"

"I don't have anything else, Tony. What am I supposed to do with myself?" he asked of his best friend. "If you don't want to come, then don't."

Tony seized him by the shoulder and spun him around. "Look, Layton, we still have time!" he said, an edge creeping into his voice. His sunken eyes were haunted. He had been like this lately, telling Layton at every opportunity that they should stop it with the gang stuff now. "We're only in year ten! We can still turn things around! I don't...I can't do this to my parents anymore!"

Layton scowled. "Good for you, having parents who care." he said. "Do what you think is right. Leave me alone."

Evidently, doing what he thought was right had meant trailing after his best friend into a battle where they knew some people would play dirty, where there was every chance of being hospitalised or even killed.

He was too late. Tony was already on the ground and his attacker was trying to get away as people rounded on him. A scream erupted out of Layton's lips as he leapt at the attacker. By the time the guy remembered he had a knife in his hands, Layton already had him on his back, punching his face, once, twice, thrice...he lost count. All he could focus on was this ugly bastard shoving a knife into his friend's back when Tony wasn't even aware he was there! Sick bastard! He had no real skill so he'd brought a knife to a fistfight! Just what you'd expect of a West Hill shithead!

His fists were coming back bloodied before his anger subsided enough for him to remember that Tony was injured. He scrambled off the assailant. The fight was calming down as people realised that someone had been stabbed, although some of them were still going at it. Sam, their boss, was nowhere to be seen.

"Tony!" he gasped, crawling over to his best friend. Tony was lying still, bleeding out. He was usually pale but now he looked lifeless, his long hair fanned out around his head like some kind of halo. Damnit, damnit, damnit! Layton pulled his phone out with shaky hands and dialled "999". He had to try three times before he got it right. Instead of wasting time on knife-guy, he should have called for an ambulance!

"Hel...Hello?" he huffed, barely able to breatheas he continued shaking his friend. Tony was not stirring. "Ye-Yeah...I-I needan...I need...Sorry, I-I...I need an ambulance!"