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AS THE HORROR of what just happened began to sink in, Genevieve and Ethan remained still for a moment, staring at Quinn's lifeless body on the subway floor. Nobody around them seemed to notice what had happened. Perhaps they were too drunk, too tired, too busy, or perhaps they saw it as a reenactment. A game.
"A-Are you okay?" Ethan stuttered.
Gen pulled him into a tight embrace, holding onto him as if he would disappear.
"Yeah," she replied. "I'm okay."
Then, a faint groan broke through the noise.
Genevieve ripped her arms away, her eyes darting around until she saw Mindy slumped against the end of the subway car, blood seeping from her abdomen.
"Mindy!" Genevieve screamed, scrambling to her feet. She rushed toward her, with Ethan right behind her.
"Mindy, oh my God!" Genevieve knelt beside her, pressing her hands against the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. "Help! Somebody, please!"
Ethan looked around wildly as the train slowed to a stop at the next station, the doors sliding open with a hiss. The boy raced toward the platform, waving frantically at the few people around. "We need help! Somebody, get help!"
Mindy groaned, her face contorted in pain as she looked up at Genevieve.
"Ethan...killed Ghostface?" Mindy asked weakly. "I...I can't believe I was wrong again!"
Ethan returned to Mindy's side, kneeling down next to her. "Just hang on, okay? Help is coming."
The sound of screams and gasps filled the station as a few bystanders rushed over, one of them already dialing 911. Genevieve stayed close to Mindy, keeping pressure on the wound as they carefully helped her off the train and onto the platform.
"We're not losing you. Not now."
Ethan looked down at his blood stained hands, his mind spinning as sirens appeared in the distance. He had saved Genevieve, but at what cost? Quinn was dead. What was his father going to do? What would he tell him?
It was their plan, after all.
To kill every last one of them.
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Ethan held his breath as he stared at Quinn's body, now draped under a white sheet. The ambulance doors slammed closed, and the sirens grew louder. He could feel Genevieve tugging at his arm, but her voice barely broke through his thoughts.
"Ethan..."
"Ethan..."
"Ethan, we have to help the others," Genevieve urged. "Please!"
The boy blinked and turned toward her.
"No, Genevieve," he whispered, shaking his head. "You can't come with me."
Gen's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
Ethan's jaw clenched as he took a step back, creating a distance between them. "You need to stay here."
The boy turned to leave, but Genevieve grabbed his arm. "No! You can't just walk away!"
With a sudden strength, Ethan shook her off. "If you come with me, you'll die. My dad will kill you. I can't-"
He paused, swallowing hard. "I can't lose you too."
"Ethan..." she whispered, trying to hold his gaze, but he looked away.
Before Genevieve could respond, Ethan took off into the busy street, disappearing down the narrow alleyway. For a split second, she stood frozen in place. But she knew Ethan too well. He was heading to the abandoned theater. It was where they'd planned everything, where this entire nightmare was going to end.
They were going to kill Sam and Tara.
Ignoring every instinct telling her no, Genevieve ran after him, weaving through the crowds of people. She had to follow him.
Was he going to save them?
Or was he going to kill them?
As she moved down a narrow alleyway, Genevieve remembered Quinn's last words to her brother.
"Dad is going to kill you."
The girl felt her heart sink as tears began to cloud her vision, anxiety filling inside her. He can't die. She can't let him die.
When she reached the abandoned theater, the large doors were locked shut, just as she expected. She tugged and tugged but there was no way through without that key card. However, that didn't stop her. The girl slipped around the back, searching for a way in.
"Come on, come on, come on," Genevieve muttered to herself.
There had to be something. Anything.
That's when she spotted it — an old, rusted air shaft hidden near the side of the building, barely noticeable. It looked narrow, too narrow, but she had no other choice.
"Okay...here goes nothing," she whispered, readying herself as she crawled toward the opening.
After what felt like an eternity, Genevieve finally reached the end of the shaft. She pushed the grate aside, careful not to make too much noise, and looked down into the theater below.
Racing forward, Genevieve reached for the metal handrails that lined the theater balcony, holding her breath as she leaned over, scanning the scene below.
There they were, Sam and Tara, alone in the theater, frantically searching for a way out.
"Sam!" she shouted. "Tara!"
At the sound, the two girls spun their heads toward her.
"Genevieve?" Tara gasped, her voice filled with disbelief. "Oh my God, Gen! Help us, please!"
"Hold on! There's an exit this way-"
But before she could finish her sentence, her body stiffened as something cold pressed into the back of her skull. The barrel of a gun.
