Chapter 32: Lunch... Is Ready

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'Someone he loved, would be my guess.' Darcy shrugged. 'A wife... a sister. A grandmother, perhaps?'

'This is the kind of thing we have to find out,' Colt decided, stepping back to the table with a large metal bowl in his hands, 'if we want to fight him on level ground. We work out his weaknesses, then we can use them against him.'

'What... what is this nice-smelling delicacy?' Darcy, who appeared to have been distracted from the previous direction of conversation, was now leaning forward, examining the contents of the bowl with great interest. 'Is this some form of pasta salad?'

'Its lunch,' Colt shrugged, as though it should have been obvious. 'What were you expecting?'

'Uh... something that looked, smelled, and tasted suspiciously like a sandwich, actually. Where'd someone your age learn to cook things like this? For lunch, no less?'

Again, he shrugged. 'I got tired of sandwiches...'

'Well, start serving up,' Kiley smiled lightly, placing the plates down, as everyone got settled into their seats.

'I'll go fetch Quentin and Elliot,' Colt said, moving to the door leading into the larger section of the warehouse.

The two of them had been trying to restore power to that half of the building, in hopes to help set the place up as some kind of training arena.

They'd been in there most of the morning, starting up just after Darcy and Elizabeth had gone out into the city to find a newspaper they could all have a laugh at, and apparently had not quite finished yet.

However; a mere handful of seconds after the door closed in his wake, a frighteningly loud explosion reverberated through the wall, followed by a short, but shrill scream.

To Ryn's ears, it sounded like Quentin...

The seven of them exchanged a momentary glance, before they all jumped from their chairs, racing to the door.

'What happened?!'

'What was that loud bang?!'

'Why did you scream?!'

'Is anyone hurt?!'

The first thing Ryn noticed was that the large space was lit up by hanging, fluorescent lights that dangled precariously from the high ceiling.

Obviously, power had been restored.

However, such a detail seemed to pale in comparison to the scene she saw as they made their hurried way towards the centre of the warehouse.

Elliot was pacing back and forth vigorously, his hands pressed together over the bridge of his nose, most obviously troubled.

Before him, Quentin was kneeling, tears streaming down her face, over the form of her brother.

'Fight it, Colt! God damnit, you have to fight it!'

'I'm trying!' Colt roared back at her, his voice distorted with a growl.

His knees were tucked up beneath his chest, forehead pressed against the concrete so that his face was hidden by locks of dark hair. One hand slammed down at the ground beside his head, as he released an agonised cry, his back arching unnaturally.

Almost instantly the entire group was consumed by a powerful wave of shock-horror.

'What the bloody Hell is going on?!' Jackson shouted, as they all rushed forwards.

Quentin's reply was little more than a clearly-panicked string of a recount, blurred with choking sobs.

'Elliot was trying to refuel the circuit for the lights but when Colt came in and called out to us, it scared the hell out of Elliot, breaking his concentration and so the electricity missed the board, and exploded against the wall, which then scared the hell out of Colt, and now Colt's trying to stop himself from transforming, because if he does then he'll lose control and more than likely kill us all, and I'm trying to calm him down, but it's incredibly hard to calm someone down when you're in the middle of panicking!'

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