Nothing Personal

Broken Glass - 13

Crete grinned from under the climbing frame as the rain receded into the distance. "See," he chirped, "I told you!" Amber scowled at him. She was really starting to dislike the smug District Five boy and his overbearing positiveness. Maybe he had been right about hiding under the metal frame, but they were too squashed. Crete was practically sat on her knee and Klaus' elbow was digging into her back. Klaus himself was grumbling to himself.

"It's called a Faraday cage," Crete informed them, unfolding himself and emerging into the light, running a hand through his hair, "Electricity will follow the metal, not us. Put simply, of course."

Amber was on her feet and jabbing the spear under his chin before he could blink, snarling viciously. 

Klaus crept out of the frame and stretched his legs, trying to ignore them. Rian was calling from somewhere, he just knew it. But he couldn't hear because of these two.

"Listen, pinprick, you're walking on broken glass here," Amber sneered, as Crete began to back away, fear creeping into his eyes, "The only reason you aren't crow feed right now is because you're useful, and the very second you stop being useful, you are dead, understand?"

Crete was very pale. No sudden movements, he told himself. The Careers are like a pack of animals; don't startle them. Very carefully, he nodded. Amber's eyes glinted dangerously, her hair crackling with anger. She had the spear. He could probably disarm her, but then what about Klaus? He didn't dare to look away to see where he was.

"Good!" Suddenly, Amber's face lit up, though there was still menace lurking in her grin. "Well, I'm glad we've got that sorted, eh?"

Crete couldn't be sure, but he'd have said that something in her had snapped at the brutal nature of Dark's death. He was still stunned by it himself. She kept sneaking suspicious glances at Klaus, who was leaning on the swings and staring out into the trees, still muttering. His sword hung by his side; the storm had washed the blood from it.

With a relieved laugh, Crete took a few steps away and sat on the roundabout. Either of them could snap at any moment. He really was walking on broken glass, and if he didn't start being careful he was going to cut his feet.

Now was the time to kill or cut loose.

He just didn't know which one.

Oak's stomach grumbled. When had he last eaten? Yesterday? At home he'd always made an effort to eat at least once a day, and when that wasn't possible to chew on something, so he could kid himself into thinking he was eating. He was an expert at fooling his own stomach. But then again, Skyler was too. You had to be. The ones who weren't wasted away and died.

Outside the sky was sweet and blue, like nothing had ever happened. This house was nice, though something about it made his hair prickle. Maybe someone had been in here before. The blood on the road outside, now washed off, had explained that. A tribute's blood. They were almost certainly dead now. Who was it? Who had killed them?

He tried telling himself it didn't matter and focused on himself instead.

He was sure someone was watching him, somehow. Outside in the tree he'd been comfortable, at least, but now he was hungry and the feeling of the house was worrying him. He'd never been in a house this stable, without a leaking roof and creaking floorboards. He'd never even seen a house - apart from the stiflingly luxurious Justice Building - with two floors. What was it like to stand there and look out on the world from solid floor, not branches, not a treetop platform? Through glass...what did glass feel like? It looked smooth and solid. The stairs looked like they wouldn't come down if you blew them up. The whole house felt sturdy and dry.

Something bumped upstairs. Very quietly, but he still heard it. 

Did they know he was in here?

It wasn't the Careers. They wouldn't be able to stay quiet, and anyway he was fairly sure they were still at the playground. Skyler would be up a tree, he reckoned, as soon as she could be. It could be theTwelve kid. What was his name? Daisuke. Or Court. Who else?

He didn't have anything to defend himself with. But it wasn't the Careers, so he'd be happy to have them as allies. As long as they would have him.

If they wanted to attack him, they'd have come down now.

Slowly, he crept down the hall. Flying through the trees at night had taught him the advantage of stealth, at least. The thing bumped again; he reckoned it was off to the right. Now he could hear that there were two people. They weren't speaking. That was a shame. If they'd speak he could work out who they were.

He would have to take a risk.

He opened the door.

Grace shrieked when the door was pushed open, freezing on the spot. What should she do? She wasn't armed, and neither was Meridan. What if it was the Careers? She was dead for sure.

Meridan saw the door open and panicked. He was trapped without a weapon, no way to attack or defend apart from himself and he knew that he wasn't any good at that and Grace didn't look like she was either. 

There was only one way out that wouldn't result in his certain death.

Oak held out both his hands peacefully, glad to see that it was just Grace and Meridan. Grace was frozen under the window, looking up at him with big green eyes, her hands clapped to her mouth to hold in the shriek.

"It's just me!" he said.

Meridan was scrabbling at the window. Oak stepped forwards to calm him down but he wailed, a strange, primative sound that sent a chill down his spine, and only hammered on it harder, the noise reverberating around the messy room.

Grace was watching, her face horrified. She tried to catch Meridan's eye so that she could signal that everything was alright - she assumed it was because Oak seemed nice and he wasn't armed -  but he didn't seem focused and she doubted that he could see her anyway. He just carried on with the horrible roar, pounding desperately on the windows.

"Meridan, stop!" she cried, even though she knew it wouldn't do anything. Oak was trying to put an arm around him and pull him back but Meridan caught him in the eye with a flailing limb and he fell backwards, landing dazed on a pile of clothes.

With a sickly splintering crack, the glass shattered. Drops of blood splattered around the room. With a sinking feeling, Grace hid her head, though she couldn't get the scream out of her ears.

Oak lurched forwards, trying to get a grip on Meridan somehow.

Meridan had only meant to jump and run away. But his trouser leg caught on a piece of broken glass jutting out of the frame, ripping through the flesh of his calf and he lost his balance and toppled forwards, tumbling head first out of the window.

Oak stumbled to one side and was violently sick against the wall.

Grace clamped her hands over her ears, but too late to not hear the muffled squelch from outside.

A cannon went off.