Devil for a Lost Cause

Eighteen

My mind buzzes, I can't move even as people rush to the exits, their faces masks of terror, my feet won't budge, even though I'm internally yelling at them to RUN! All I see is Katrina's limp body on stage, scarlet liquid pooling around her, limbs bent like the joints of a broken doll.

Someone screams at me, and finally I comprehend Roland yelling at me to, "GET DOWN," before he grabs my neck and thrusts me down with him and Ingrid until we hug the floor. Bile edges up my throat, I feel sick like I've never felt sick in my life, and Jesus, the blood, I swear I can smell her blood—

Another shot explodes, and my body recoils, I clutch my head, fingers digging into my hair, yanking at the roots, my ribs screaming in pain—

Three more shots in one second, people scream, but they're not screams of pain, rather screams of panic. Feet slap against concrete, and I lift my head as civilians struggle towards the gates. Mothers drag wailing children behind them, some suffocating their sons and daughters against their chests. Men and women grope for each other's hands, for comfort, their eyes flung wide, mouths agape. They wrestle in an attempt to break free of the mass. Some nearly trip over their seats, and others do trip over their seats.

"SAM."

My head whips around.

Roland yanks me up by the coat. His glasses barely hang onto the bridge of his nose, his face dusted with grime. I look around wildly.

"Where's Steven?" I holler, trembling.

"He went to the bathroom. He must've bolted when he heard the shots. We have to get out of here. Move!"

"But the doors are blocked by all the other people trying to get out," I shout, my throat raw.

"We don't have a choice. You got a better option?"

"Sam," someone breathes in my ear before a hand snakes around mine in a warm embrace, tight and reassuring.

When I meet Ingrid's eyes, something inside me shifts. I've never seen her scared before, and at this moment all I want to do is throw my body in front of hers until the chaos stops altogether.

The crowd's screams drown out her next words, and I never get to ask for them again because someone knocks into me, and I'm forced away from her and Roland. My hand is ripped from hers. They call out for me, but I can't break free of the group pushing me to the front of the amphitheater.

"Let me go," I scream, "let me go, you idiots!" but they can't hear me because they're as terrified as the rest of us.

I counter their weight, push against them, but finally with a frustrated cry, I give up and stumble around.

And the air knocks from my lungs.

Andrew's in front of me.

His eyes meet my eyes, and we halt.

"You," he exhales.

There's this insistent buzz in my head, like a beehive was smashed around against my insides. A piñata.

"I never thought I'd see you again."

Despite the grim situation, my lips quirk. "Surprised I'm not dead? But then, you did send someone to kill me, so I should've expected this reaction."

He nods. "And the person I sent couldn't get the job done. Fantastic. You're like an incessant insect that won't go away."

"Nope. I'm just really good at what I do."

"And what do you do?" he asks with a tilt to his head.

I bare my teeth, fire burning me inside out. "That's for you to find out."

I spin on my heel and stride away.

My feet stop when a glare hits my eyes. I lift an arm to shield my face from the brightness, and when I lower it, search for the source.

Up there, on the hill behind the amphitheater, in the woodland trees, is something I've never seen in my life. A figure, a person in a silver mask with holes for eyes. It's almost as if whoever's in the mask watches me, tracks my steps, my movements.

In a flash, I'm back at the library as I recall that glimpse of silver, the figure who watched me.

My eyes widen.

Oh my God.

* * *

So, that was your first real interaction with Andrew. Before, we see him on TV and in Sam's memories, but here we get to meet him. What did you think of him? Does he seem to be up to something sketchy? Or is Sam really just paranoid???

Also, can I just say how I love that Roland's first instinct was to grab Sam and Ingrid and pull them to the ground with him? Aww, hello, big brother figure ;) I mean, I know I wrote it in there, but still.