Caedes

25 | caedes

Thursday, 5:53 P.M.

Stalker refused to let go of the cook's flailing arm until I leaped over the counter and literally pulled him off. Even then he continued barking and snapping at the man. The cook wasn't any better. Despite his bleeding arm, he managed to grab a pan to swing at Cris. She wasn't within reach, but that didn't stop him from trying to hit her.

With Stalker tucked under one arm and the screaming cook under the other, I almost felt like an underpaid babysitter. Almost.

"Get her out of here," I told Cris, nodding at the inferno waiting to happen.

Cris took one look at the stove and moved. Dragging Dina by her arms, she followed me to the glass entrance. Lucky for me—or for him—the cook knocked himself out on the door frame on our way out and finally stopped struggling. Stalker simultaneously stopped trying to maul him too then. The little jerk clearly wasn't affected by whatever was happening to random people, and he wasn't fooling anyone.

By some miracle, Cris and I managed to get the rest of the people out too before the entire stove was consumed by flames. The teens were fine apart from multiple third-degree burns and a couple of superficial gashes. They were out cold too. Guess death wasn't the only way to break that weird murderous fixation.

While Cris was checking the two likely deceased men for any signs of life, multiple people from the gas station across the street came rushing over. I was about to knock a hysterically screaming man out of the way when I realized he wasn't enraged, just...upset. Extremely upset. He threw his arms around Dina's unconscious form and cried into her shoulder. Only when Cris reassured him that she was mostly fine did his sobs turn into quiet sniffles.

The other bystanders crowded around and either bombarded Cris with questions or tried to get a look inside the diner. None of them offered any help. One particularly smart individual poked his head through the entrance despite Cris' warnings. One of his friends tried to pull him back, but as fate would have it, something exploded inside just then and both men as well as the majority of the glass windows were blasted outward.

As I bent down to help one of the men to his feet, my sunglasses slid off my face and landed in the dust at his feet. The man grabbed my hand to pull himself up but crouched down almost immediately to retrieve my glasses.

Holding them out to me, he said, "Thank you for..." His eyes widened. "Oh my—you're..." He stumbled back a step, still clutching my sunglasses. "Y-you're that guy—th-the one wanted for murder..."

For fuck's sake. That's what I get for trying to help people.

Index finger pointed at me, he started running backward. "Y-y-you—" His foot caught on one of the dead men's legs and he fell to the ground again.

"What's going on—" one of the other bystanders started, looking between us.

"It's him!" the idiot shouted. "He killed that doctor at the hospital!"

Low murmurs sounded around us and then all eyes were on me. For a second no one said a word, the only sound was Stalker's low growl as he appeared at my side. Cris slowly got up from her position next to one of the injured teens and looked between the people. When her eyes landed on me, she clenched her jaw.

"He probably killed these people," a woman said.

"I bet he set that fire too!" someone else added.

The majority of the people nodded in agreement. Stalker's growl turned into more of a snarl.

This just kept getting better and better...

"Someone grab him!" the same woman yelled, now pointing at me.

Try me. I dare you.

No one made a move. They all just stared at me, wide-eyed, some of them shaking.