Four thirty-three

Chapter 16

When Brett got there, he was met with utter chaos.

The main street was filled with people and noise, screams and gunshots cutting through the otherwise still evening. The lampposts shed light over some policemen that were barricaded behind a car, firing against the musicians that had been on the bus that morning. The musicians were protecting themselves behind thick vines that one of them had probably summoned. Brett had to jump and hang himself from a lamppost when the ground suddenly started shaking below him and a big rift opened behind his feet, making the policemen lose their footing and stop shooting for a few seconds. The musicians used that time to fire back, dust resulting from the rift quickly turning into a sandstorm, debris flying towards the uniformed men, who tried their best to cover themselves while totally blinded by the dust.

"Let's get out of here!" someone shouted, and the musicians started to run away.

They didn't make it very far, though. Two police vans had suddenly appeared at the end of the street, blocking the way and making it impossible for them to escape that way. The musicians retreated, but to no avail: the other side was also blocked by the first policemen, who had managed to recover their footing and were about to start shooting again.

Brett, still holding on to the lamppost for dear life, saw Eddy put himself between the policemen and the others and start playing. He yelled at him, are you mental, get out of there , but Eddy wasn't listening, too focused on the music. The air around him got heavier, harder to breathe, and water started to accumulate under the teacher's feet. In a few seconds, it wasn't just water, but a giant, ground-shattering wave that wiped the policemen out of their way.

Eddy stopped playing. "Run!" he screamed.

They quickly scattered in groups of two and three, the reinforcements that had come in the vans already regaining their footing.

"Eddy!"

He turned around and spotted Brett, hanging like a koala from the lamppost, soaking wet. Apparently, the wave had somehow splashed him too.

"Fuck, Yang!" Eddy screamed at him.

He helped him down and grabbed him by his hoodie, dragging him away to a more secluded alley.

"Eddy..."

"No, don't you Eddy me! I fucking told you to stay hidden! You have no powers, no instrument, you could've been hit by something and gotten killed and it would be on my head." He was panting and very angry. Brett had never seen him like this. And he'd seen his fair share of angry Chen at this point. "Come on. We need to find a place to hide until... shit."

"What?"

"The bus." Eddy's eyes opened wide. He looked at Brett. "The bus was supposed to pick us up here in a few minutes. We need to alert the driver to go away, or all the work we've done today will be for nothing. Come on!" Eddy grabbed his wrist and started to run, dragging Brett with him.

"But... the others! We have to help them!" the other tried to fight him off, to no avail.

"They are all very capable musicians, they can handle it." Eddy said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself too. "Our priority in every raid is always to ensure the bus with the supplies gets to the Con." He stopped abruptly at a crossroad and looked around, panting heavily. "Shit. Where is it? It should be here already!" He started running again, towards God only knew what, and Brett followed suit.

They reached another crossroad and stopped again, but the bus was nowhere to be seen. Eddy kept cursing under his breath, his eyes desperately looking for some movement that might give the location of the vehicle away.