Chapter 40
Luca
Once you’ve collected enough adrenaline points, you can give yourself a boost with the B key. You’ll run faster, and your attacks will cause more damage.
Deafening noise echoes across the room. My heart stumbles for a beat, only to resume its hammering at an unhealthy rate.
The woman in front of me drops the torch I’ve just handed her in shock.
I want to bend down to pick it up, but I can’t.
The blood thunders in my ears, and I can feel my muscles locking.
It’s just an alarm, I keep telling myself, but my body doesn’t seem to care. “What on earth is that?” the woman shouts over the ringing noise, pulling a face.
“I reckon some kid set off the fire alarm,” Hank says, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “We should get out of here.”
Hank sets off, glancing back at me in confusion when I stay rooted to the spot. Cold sweat beads on my brow, but I can’t even move my hand to wipe it away. I close my eyes and force myself to breathe normally.
It’s just a bloody alarm. Everything is fine.
When I reopen my eyes a moment later, the alarm is still ear-splittingly loud, but my heartbeat is slowly returning to normal. No one’s panicking; everyone just seems mildly confused or annoyed.
Everything. Is. Fine.
The next moment, the speakers crackle to life, and an announcement echoes across the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Judging by the voice, it seems that Rodrick Crow himself has taken the mic.
“There is no reason for concern. Our fire alarm has been set off automatically—we assume that someone has ignored our rules against smoking indoors, or the sensors were mistakenly set off. We will investigate the cause shortly, but we must ask you to leave the building immediately via the indicated exits. Please do remain calm; the staff will help you leave the building in an orderly manner. I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience.”
People start jogging away from our booth and along the aisles, but some passing visitors are laughing, and I’m finally able to relax enough to get moving.
“Well then.” Hank sighs. “I hope they have someone looking after the equipment. Just in case this is a ploy. The PCs are brand new, after all.” He grabs his mobile and an energy drink from the fridge. “Want one too?” When I don’t react straightaway, he waves the can in front of my face. “Luca?”
I swallow against the dryness in my throat. Although I’ve been ignoring Hank to the best of my abilities over the last few hours, and though I still hate energy drinks, I nod.
“Yes.”
I should focus on the disgusting taste instead of what’s happening around me.
I had a handle on my anxiety during the entire convention.
The crowd at our booth, the busy room—it wasn’t pleasant, but it was all right.
My focus was set on my work, all the rooms were walled off individually, and our little booth, in particular, was manageable.
An entryway, a few square feet, nothing worth mentioning.
There were bag checks and security at the entrance.
But the chaos reigning in the aisles right now, the crowds of people making their way outside in anything but an orderly manner .
. . All of it blurs together with the images stuck inside me from back then, so I blink a few times until I see clearly again.
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I taste blood.
And though I’ve been disgusted by blood ever since the incident, it helps to get me focused.
I hold the cold can up to my sweaty brow.
“Everything all right?” Hank gives me a skeptical sideways glance.
“Yes.”
“Long day.” He puts a hand on my shoulder, steering me away from the booth, which is now deserted, apart from us.
I hate that he’s acting like nothing happened.
I hate the fact that he doesn’t seem fazed about having destroyed an entire studio today.
“Let’s go outside; this wailing is driving me bonkers. ”
I brush off his hand unobtrusively and follow him out through the lobby as I try to keep breathing and chase the images from my mind.
That was all so long ago, damn it. I’m at an old mansion somewhere out in the sticks, not on London Bridge.
Everyone here looks as relaxed as can be under the circumstances, and people are still chatting cheerily among themselves.
There’s no real danger to speak of. Still, my body is on red alert, like it’s been jolted back into the past.
I only start relaxing once the cool air hits my lungs and Mr. Crow’s staff leads us over to the meeting point in more or less of an orderly manner.
There, we’re to wait until things have calmed down.
The wail of the alarm sounds muffled and quiet from out here.
No one’s rushing. Everyone’s waiting in front of the fountain, chatting happily.
Some of the visitors make their way over to the taxi shuttles, obviously unwilling to wait until we’re allowed back in the building. Shane and his boss have grabbed a beer each and are toasting their second day at the trade fair. Hank has caught sight of them too.
“Do you have a third bottle of beer for an exhausted old man?” When Shane waves another bottle at him, Hank thumps me on the shoulder and walks over.
Shane gives me an expectant look, but I shake my head.
I’m glad to be rid of Hank for a moment—never mind the fact that Shane’s big talk is the last thing I need today.
My heartbeat slowly returns to normal.
Everyone is all right.
No one was injured.
It’s just a stupid fire alarm.
Fire alarm.
My head whips around, searching for that familiar head of blue-and-black hair, for Lara’s silhouette, but I can’t see her anywhere.
Instead, I see Sophia, running into the garden a good while after everyone else.
I look up at her, and as her eyes meet mine, her gaze hardens. I can’t really blame her.
“Do you know where Lara is?”
“Somewhere out here, I suppose,” Sophia replies, and she scans the crowd, searching.
When she can’t find Lara either, her expression darkens.
“She should be back downstairs now. We finished our conversation more than twenty minutes ago.” A worried crease appears between her eyebrows.
“I’ll go have a look; I’m sure she’s with Nat. ”
“Hey!” I turn my head toward the source of the high, clear voice, and all my hope evaporates at once as Nataly joins us—without Lara in tow. “Isn’t Lara with you lot?”
“I was hoping she’d be with you,” Sophia replies.
“No.” Nataly’s gaze darts over to me. “She posted to the group chat after you talked, but I haven’t heard from her since.
She didn’t come back to our booth. And she isn’t answering my calls or messages.
” Nataly rises up on her tiptoes, scanning the crowd.
I check the lawn in front of the house, but no one else is coming out of the building—apart from two staff members carrying crates of drinks.
“I’ll check out the crowd here by the fountain,” Sophia says. “Would you go have a look by the shuttles? Maybe she accidentally joined the wrong group.”
“On it,” Nataly says, running over to the shuttle buses while Sophia hurries past me through the crowd, studiously ignoring me.
I pull out my phone, trying to reach Lara despite what Nataly has just told us.
But nothing. An unpleasant feeling starts to creep up on me.
I don’t think Lara’s down here. I can’t see smoke or flames, but still—if my body was on high alert just now, I can only imagine what must be going on inside her head.
I start running. Someone behind me calls out, “Oi!” but I’m not paying attention.
My panic from a moment ago seems to have evaporated, replaced by worry for her.
I cross the lawn in the blink of an eye and leap up the steps to the main entrance.
The heavy doors swing open, and I hurry up the stairs.
It’s dead silent in here—apart from the fire alarm, which is still bellowing in the empty hallways.
I should have looked for her straightaway.
I shouldn’t have gone outside.
I run through the west wing and knock on the door of her room, but there’s nothing but silence.
I kick the door, but still nothing. She’s not in there.
I keep on running, opening door after door, until I smell it.
Something acrid. Smoky, but not like a bonfire—more like burning plastic.
I barge through the next set of doors, and my heart misses a beat.
“Lara!”
I can see her through the smoke. She doesn’t turn around; all she does is stare straight ahead, where smoke is curling up through the wooden floorboards.
An orange-red flicker illuminates the darkness a few feet in front of her.
The red rug is dark and soot-stained. She lets out a racking cough, but other than that, she’s stock-still, the way I was a few minutes ago.
I run over to her, turning her around by her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. “Hey. Everything all right?”
Her eyes turn to me, but it’s like she’s looking right through me.
“We need to get out of here, OK?”
She blinks, only seeming to register me now. Though I try to pull her along with me, she won’t budge. The alarm is deafeningly loud, and she squints, like she didn’t even notice it before. I suppress a cough. The smell of sulfur and burning plastic is pungent.
“I . . .” Lara’s voice breaks, and she coughs again.
I stop thinking. I pull my shirt up over my head, placing the fabric over her nose and mouth, and scoop her up in my arms. I can hear sirens in the distance, and when I glance out the window, I can see blue lights flickering across the bushes lining the driveway.
I shove my memories aside, my thoughts of the past. None of that matters right now.
It doesn’t matter what happened then. But it can never, ever happen again.
A cough tears at my throat and my vocal cords.
My lungs are burning. I hold my breath, grab Lara tighter, and start running.
Lara is coughing too; the noise comes out muffled against my shirt. Her eyes are closed, and my heart breaks as I notice her wet cheeks.
“Everything’s going to be fine.” I have no idea if she can hear me, wherever she is right now.
“I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be fine.
” I turn at the door, angling it open with my shoulder.
I can see flames licking at the end of the hallway now.
Maybe I should grab a fire extinguisher and turn back; there are quite a few dotted along the halls.
But all my thoughts are with Lara. I’ve got to get her out of here.
The fire brigade is on its way; people are safe.
All that counts now is her. And so I hold her tighter against my chest, descending the steps.