274 (Complex Series, #4)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

All the Officials break into a sprint. Their faces are voids of emotion.

Piper reacts quickly, whipping her Taser out in front of her. She points it at the closest Official and presses the button. Nothing happens as the Officials continue sprinting towards us. The people closest to Piper pull out their Tasers as well, aiming to the other Officials.

I count down the seconds in my head. One. Two. Piper yells, “Back. Get back.”

Everyone turns and begins to sprint back the way we came. Bodies push relentlessly against one another. I stumble as someone’s foot hits the back of my knee. Someone else uprights me. I turn to thank them but they are already lost in the crowd. I’m too weak to keep up with flow.

The Officials are only ten paces away from us, syringes clutched in each hand. Three. Four.

I glance over at my shoulder. Piper has stayed behind continuing to fire at the Officials. They laugh, thinking her weapon is having no effect. Is it working? Is it broken? Are we defenseless?

All the Officials drop, one after another.

Their knees collapse, falling heavily to the floor. No sounds come from them, completely still. Their fingers release the syringes as they fall, the glass shattering. Blue and green splatter the air, the farthest drop landing only a pace from my feet.

I hear a faint sizzling as it hits the steel. Piper stares wordlessly at the droplet, an unreadable expression crossing her face.

Everyone’s stopped running, gasps flitting through the crowd.

I stare in growing horror at the Officials, my hand flying to my mouth. The blue puddles hiss around the fallen Officials. Wherever skin touches the blue, it turns to a horrible, bumpy bruise.

The bruises spread across the skin until it covers the Officials’ entire bodies. Blue. Purple. Green. Black. Ridges and valleys, bumps and caverns. Blood seeps out of every space, dribbling over the bodies, soaking the black uniforms. I watch the nearest Official, a droplet of blood racing down his sideways face. It slips down his nose, pausing for a moment as though preparing itself. It slips down and drips off the end. It hits the blue with a horrible crackle.

The worst part is the absolute stillness. The Officials show no reaction as the bruises creep over their skin, bending and pushing it into different textures. They don’t cry out or scream in pain. They lie immobile in the hissing puddles.

The only change I notice is the movement of their chests as they struggle to take in air. Their lungs lurch quickly, repeatedly, desperately trying to take in air. They speed up faster until they abruptly stopped.

We’ve killed them.

I force my eyes away, shocked tears springing between my lashes. I focus on Piper. Her mouth is open in horror and angry tears stream down her face. I watch her take a slow, deep breath, furiously rubbing the tears out of her eyes.

She spins on her heel, her eyes rimmed in red. She addresses us, her voice wavering, “I…you know I didn’t mean…I…”

I remember her rule of killing no Officials. Was she the one who shot down all the Officials? What about the others who tried to help? They are all murderers.

Am I a murderer? I didn’t actually shoot the Officials, but I did nothing to stop them. I would have shot them, had I been in better range. I would have shot them because I wouldn’t have known I would kill them.

Does it still count as murder if we didn’t mean to?

I suppose that’s Ellen’s very purpose for having the vials made of glass. If you can’t inject someone with the poisons, you simply throw them at your attacker’s feet, killing them either way.