Alternative Tactics

Ch. 6: The Scary Neon-Painted Woman

Chapter 6: The Scary Neon-Painted Woman

The crowds was made of people who were Hidden. Not all of them, but most of them. Why didn't I realize it before? It seemed so obvious now. A few glanced at us. It seemed like the music wasn't as loud anymore and less people seemed to be dancing. Then the speakers cut out, making the room strangely quiet. It wasn't silent, it couldn't be considering the fact that there was a couple hundred people in here. But it was quieter than it had been a second ago. "Cyric," I hissed. "Hidden," He nodded, more than one had turned to face us and I felt like the people in a zombie movie. 

"Why'd the music cut out?" Someone complained loudly. There were a few grumbles here and there,agreeing with the person who I assumed wasn't Hidden. The music was the least of our problems. It turned back on out of nowhere and I shrunk back in the sudden assault of sound. It took a few moments, but people started dancing again. Unfortunately, not everyone. 

"That was close," Cyric whispered, attempting to distract me but I was just as aware to the people approaching as he was.

Two people, a man and a woman in their twenties, came up to us as Cyric and I tried to work our way around the edge of the room and back to the doors. The woman tapped my shoulder. Before I could decide whether or not I should pretend it happened, Cyric roughly jerked me me forwards and started to run. I started to run as well but this time the woman grabbed hold of my shoulder with a grip like a vice as I started to run. I was yanked backwards and swore under my breath. Cyric stopped, still not letting go of me. "Can we help you?" I asked through gritted teeth. The woman pulled a smile up.

"Yes, actually, we're looking for our employer, Gregory Hark. We saw you go up and he told us to question you if you tried to leave without him," She said, smiling with no real emotion. 

"Greg is an old family friend of mine," Cyric replied easily. "I just spoke with him and negotiated a little," He continued. Neither looked like they believed him. 

"I get it, I do. But still, I need to see Greg just to check and make sure," The man said unsmilingly. I tried to stop myself from glaring at them. 

"We'll take you to Greg, it's not a big deal," Cyric said. 

"Go ahead," The woman said, gesturing forwards. That was when I saw the gun, strapped to her side and under her shirt, but still just barely visible. Cyric started walking and I followed his lead, the two strangers falling into step behind us. The music pounded and we had to push our way through people, including one rather enthusiastic couple off to the side. 

"You okay?" Cyric managed to whisper into my ear. I barely heard him. My shoulder throbbed rhythmically in pain but I refused to let Cyric know. It'd be one more thing for him to worry about and frankly, he needed to make a plan because I didn't have one. 

"Yeah, fine," I lied and tried not to wince too obviously. "Plan?" I tried to add in but I wasn't sure if he heard me. 

"Quit messing around, anything you say to each other, you need to tell us too," The woman said briskly. "Or we'll separate you two," She shouldn't have been threatening. She was dressed in a completely random assortment of skimpy clothing for the rave and she was decorated with splashes of neon paint for black light. And yet she still managed to be scary. 

I threw a forced smile over my shoulder. "No need," I replied. We kept maneuvering through the crowds until we reached the spiral staircase again. I wasn't looking forward to climbing them at all. Cyric glanced at me and caught my gaze as we slowly started upwards. Car. Run. Cyric mouthed. I paused. Now. He mouthed. My head ached, my shoulder hurt, my throat was on fire and I was pretty sure I was going to be deaf after this. I swallowed.