Unhappily Ever After

Chapter 77 - Pity the Living

Four or five corridors later, I realised I was hopelessly lost. It was a maze, this place, and I didn't have the first idea where I might find the kids. And although I was inside the building now and I could feel the minds of almost a dozen humans, I still couldn't link Bran.

I'd stumbled upon another sniper's nest. The man inside was dead, like all the others, but the shadows responsible were starting to disperse now. One coiled on his chest and another swirled around his skull. All of them were fading now. I didn't know how to call them back, let alone how I'd called them in the first place. I didn't even know for certain that it had been me.

I crouched down beside the corpse. Death had captured the terror in his blue eyes, and it was frozen there now for all eternity. I reached down to take his handgun. If I didn't have the shadows helping me, and I was too weak to kill with my mind, I'd have to resort to the more traditional methods.

My fingertips brushed against his arm as I withdrew. His skin was already icy to the touch, and it had been less than a minute. It wasn't natural. A shiver ran down my spine, and I found myself staring at those wisps of blackness. They were crawling their way towards me now, inch by inch. The closer they got, the stronger they seemed to get, and the colder I felt. They must have fed off heat.

As I straightened again, checking that the gun was loaded, I heard a scuffling sound. It was soon followed by a mechanical click. Slowly, I turned around. At the end of the corridor stood a man with a rifle against his shoulder.

I was looking straight down the barrel, and his finger was squeezing the trigger. I considered it for a moment — taking a shot and hoping I was quicker — but I'd just dropped the magazine. There wasn't a chance in hell that I could replace it before he shot me. Maybe there was still a bullet in the chamber. Maybe not.

"Drop it," he told me, his voice shaking a little.

I let the gun fall to the ground.

"Good. Now kick it towards me."

I did. He didn't make any move to collect it. Instead, he just used his foot to shunt it even further down the corridor. While he was doing that, I nudged his mind. He had walls, and they were strong as any I'd ever felt. I could still break through, but he would feel me trying. If I wasn't quick enough, I'd end up with a bullet in my head.

But ... and here was the question nagging at me ... why hadn't he just shot me on sight? Why was I still alive? Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't entirely down with the regime here. I thought perhaps I recognised him as the man who'd been at the crime scene with Scott. He had seemed sensible enough back then...

I licked my lips, and then I said quietly, "I'm not who you think I am."

His eyes flicked to the dead man pointedly, and he raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't touch him," I said. It was the truth, in a way. "He was already dead. The body's cold. Come and feel if you don't believe me."

"No, thank you. Get on your knees."

That was too far. I didn't kneel for just anyone. I shook my head slowly and watched as his finger twitched on the trigger.

"Just let me go," I said. "Please. He's going to kill my children."

"Yeah, well, you killed my little brother," he snapped without missing a beat.

I sighed at him. "Why?"

His brow furrowed. "What?"

"Why did I kill him?" I asked patiently. "What was my motive?"

"I don't know. You did it because you're evil."