Big Data: A Startup Thriller Novel

Chapter 3

"Please. Let me explain."

In the last few seconds before the gunman arrived, I reached into my pockets. My dad always insisted that I should carry mace everywhere. It was on my to-do list, but I had never gotten around to buying it. My fingers wrapped around my keys. Maybe I could jab them into his eyes. But he was much taller than me, so reach would be a problem. Before I could come to any decisions, he was in front of me.

"Stop or I'll mace you."

I held up the only other thing in my pocket, a tube of red Yves Saint Laurent lipstick. I glared at him with the angriest expression I could muster.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said. "I'm not armed. I just want to talk."

For the first time, I actually looked at this kid. He was on the brink of tears. He looked and spoke more like a Harvard student than a crazed lunatic.

"I swear, move and I'll spray."

"I'm sorry, I know this isn't ideal, but it was the only way I could think of to get your attention. I've been trying to contact you for months. I tried getting in touch with anyone at Ancien, but nobody would listen. I tried talking to the police, but they laughed me out of the room. I'm a nobody. You're the only one who'll understand. You've got to believe me—I'm desperate. I knew you'd be here for the IPO, but I couldn't figure out any other way to get your attention."

"Shooting people?"

"I didn't shoot anyone."

"I heard the shots."

"Someone shot me. That's why I'm bleeding. All I had was a BB gun and spray-painted toilet paper rolls."

He pulled back his overcoat to show the bomb. Up close, it was clearly not a bomb. I lowered my lipstick. Slightly.

"What could possibly be so important that you had to talk to me like this?" I asked.

But then a thundering roar interrupted us. "Freeze. Put your hands in the air."

A SWAT team filled the small corridor. They looked like a group of aliens to me. Every inch of their bodies was covered, and they wore strange masks over their faces. Sounds of boots on concrete filled the air. More urgent shouting.

"On the floor. Hands behind your head."

The kid lifted his hands slowly, looking resigned.

"Luna, please. You have to help me. It's a matter of life and death."

"Shut up," yelled the leader of the SWAT team. He kicked the back of the kid's legs, knocking him to the ground. "Hands behind your head."

They pushed the boy to the ground and handcuffed him. As they hauled him from the corridor, he yelled back: "Find me in the Woods."