Chapter Nineteen - Elijah

667 55 24
                                    


Part 2 - Elijah's story.

Thanks for reading this far. The next part is told from Elijah's point of view whilst he searches for Amelia. Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 19

I hear the clank of the steel door close before I see it. I am too busy sprinting at it. Even though I know I won't make it. I skid to a halt on the other side. Angry at the steel barricade blocking me from getting though. I have seconds to make a decision. I have no time. I am out of options. Running to get Stan and Grace doubles my chances of winning. It also triples the length of time it will take for me to get to her. I don't have time. They have machine guns. I can't fight them alone.

It will take me three minutes to get to the kitchen door they exploded and that's if I were to leave right now. Nine minutes if I run and get help.

"Fuck," I hiss

I have to get Stan. I need backup. I have already wasted thirty seconds deciding what I am going to do. I sprint up the stairs. My body moves silently though I am moving at speed. It takes one-minute-and-thirty seconds for me to get to the common room. Three seconds to seek out my brother and a further two before I spot Grace.

"It's them," I say. Ignoring the rest of our year as they turn to watch me. I make my way to Stan as Grace makes her way to me. I'm not much out of breath. "Three of them. She kicked me through to save me. Sacrificed herself. We don't have time."

"We don't have weapons," Stan says, he hasn't
moved. There is no urgency in his eyes. "We can't go down there empty handed."

"We don't have time," I press.

Stan puts a hand on my shoulder, "You can't rush in, you must think rationally."

But I can't. Nothing about how I feel about Amelia Warbur makes me rational. I may have been trained for years, but she makes me emotional. I know he hates it. Doesn't understand it. I don't care. We don't have time.

"Stanley," I spit. "You either come and help me now, or you don't. But I am going to save her."

I turn to leave and Grace is on my heels, "I'm coming with you."

"Me too," Tessa calls, making her way to us.

"And me," Jenny says and shrugs. "She's one of us now."

Two minutes have been wasted since I've got here. Four minutes in total since the steel doors closed. They probably already have her. She was so eager to give herself up. She won't have fought. She will have sought them out.

"You need weapons," Stan insists.

"You are stalling this mission," I spit out. It really is a miracle I don't punch him.

"They'll have guns," He says. "You can't take fists to a gun fight."

"We're trained agents," I say, "If we need weapons, then we've already failed."

I ignore whatever is going to come out of his mouth next and stalk from the room. I knew she would do something to stop me. I should have been more on guard - I don't have time to think about it. I have to get to her before they do. We'll have to exit out the front and go around the outside. There's no way to get through the steel quick enough. There's no way to get them up either, not until the intruders are gone and they're not leaving with her.

It's six minutes by the time we've gotten outside. With each passing second I'm losing her. It's another two minutes by the time we've gotten to the door they exploded off. The one Amelia would have escaped out of. I would have been able to stop her too. I could have talked sense into her - I don't have time for these thoughts.

I lean against the wall as much as I can. I blend into the shadows, then I crouch down low and make my way through the unhinged door. Grace, Tessa, Jenny and Stan follow me, copying my position. Five against three. I like those odds much better then if I were to take them on myself.

We creep through the kitchen and out into the Grand Hall. At the back I can see they've unscrewed the only door that would have led to the foyer. It's where she would have been waiting. Nine minutes since the door closed. As we reach the second door I note how quiet it is. Too quiet. Even the alert constantly ringing out seems to have dimmed. There's no sound of gunshots or boys talking. There's no sound of Amelia.

I swing around the door and step into the foyer. I am prepared to fight them. My arms are out in front of me and ready to engage. But the foyer is empty. I'm
too late. I took too long. The team fan out. They check everywhere, but there is no one.

"Well?" Stan demands. "Where are they?"

I can't speak. I can't fathom a thought. I failed. I failed to protect her. Failed to watch her. Failed to be there for her. Failed to save her.

"They've taken her," Grace whispers. She is horrified.

I look around. I check everywhere. Every nook, hiding spot and cranny I can find. Then I go upstairs and I check every dorm, even the girls. I go into every cubicle, check every closest. There is no one on this side of the building. It's just us.

I make my way back to the foyer, and Grace marches up to me. "Well?"

I shake my head, "She's gone."

"She can't have gone." Grace says. "We have no idea what they'll do to her! She can't have just gone!"

"We'll get her back." I say.

I say it with more conviction then I feel. My teeth are gritted. Anger and self loathing are washing through me. We have to get her back. We must. It is not a question. There isn't a day where I won't be looking for her. It is insanity to me that they even have her. That we are supposed to be the safest school in the country and this has happened here.

The school is protected by many things. The walls outside. The teachers. The multiple cameras and weapons. Yet somehow they were able to get in. They were able to take her. We all let her down. In our own way we are all at fault. She is too. She could have let them take me with her. We would have been better served together. I could have helped. She didn't have to kick me out! We could have
gone together.

I look around the foyer. I can see where she would have sat. Opposite the wooden door. There are two drops of blood on the floor. They likely knocked her unconscious. I can't begin to let myself imagine what they might do to her. What they want with her. I can't begin to think that I have no idea where I would even start looking. No one knows who these people are. My legs are unsteady as I make my way back outside.

"But what do we do now?" Grace is asking me as she follows. "Like, right now? What do we do?"

"You don't," Stan instructs. He is looking at me. "You don't do anything. You let the adults fix it."

I have never made it a habit of listening to my older brother and I am not going to start now.

The Good-For-Nothing Society | CompletedWhere stories live. Discover now