Getting Home

By EMHeartSpark

8.4K 1.2K 456

Ava Mather is a normal 17 year old who has her life suddenly turned upside down when a young man jumps into h... More

Getting Home Part 1
Getting Home Part 2
Getting Home Part 3
Getting Home Part 4
Getting Home Part 5
Getting Home Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part Twenty-Three
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27
Part 28
Part 29
Part 30
Part 31
Part 32
Part 33
Part 34
Part 35
Part 36
Part 37
Part 38
Part 39
Part 40
Part 41
Part 42
Part 43
Part 44
Part 45
Part 46
Part 47
Part 48
Part 49
Part 50
Part 51
Part 52
Part 53
Part 54
Part 55
Part 56
Part 57
Part 58
EPILOGUE

Part 17

150 23 10
By EMHeartSpark

The glass suddenly exploded.

I screamed, instantly putting my hands over my ears and dropping down into a crouch. The glass blew furiously inwards, a nail-bomb of sharp crystal glass projectiles that made loud, rapid-fire THUNKS! as they embedded themselves in the walls and floor. Just as quickly as the thunks started, they stopped.

The remaining glass twinkled as it rained down.

Then complete silence.

I remained frozen, crouched, strands of my hair dangling in my face. I was surrounded on all sides like a moat by giant shards of razor-sharp glass pieces, giant swords that stabbed upwards from the floor like glittering crystal spikes.

A mist of dust hung in the air—it smelled like the school woodshop.

Holy shit. Oh my God.

Somehow, every single piece of glass missed me.

Except one.

A small sliver had somehow grazed my lips, whizzing by like a bullet—it took a few seconds before it began to sting. I touched my lips, blood coming off onto my fingertips.

There was a groan nearby.

Oh no.

Sean.

Sean lay in the middle of the floor, surrounded by even more giant glass shards that jutted up from the floor like crater rocks. I started to make my way over to him, delicately stepping through the minefield of sharp razor-spikes.

Gunfire erupted from somewhere in the building. A lot of gunfire. It was beyond loud, each POP piercing my ears.

Ignore it. Make sure it stays far away from you.

The fire alarm began to blare. The sound was horrible; a piercing, mechanical tone that beeped shrilly at a rhythmic pace... but at a weird and altered pace.

Like... slowed down.

Sean suddenly sat straight up in one violent jerk, puffs of wood dust poofing off him, startling me so much I gasped and clasped my hands over my mouth.

Then I got a look at him.

"Oh my God, Sean..." I trailed off.

Small pieces of glass dangled and stuck out from his hair, shining in the light. But that wasn't the shocking part...

Large shards of glass protruded out from his back and torso, sticking straight out from all sides of his core.

A nightmare version of a human porcupine.

Oh my god, he's dead. There's no way. No way to survive that.

I went right to him, slipping once and almost slicing myself on a giant, waist-high shard of glass sticking up from the pocked floor. The cacophony of gunfire from downstairs roared on—the popping had been joined by loud booms and more rapid-fire popping.

What do I do? Pull the pieces of glass out of him? Just leave them!?

There was no blood yet—I peered closer, so scared, so lost and having no idea what to do.

Then I saw...

All the glass was embedded in his tactical vest.

"Holy shit, Ava," Sean gasped, gulping. "Holy shit. I... I can't believe it. I—I think I'm okay."

Oh thank god. I sagged with relief. "Jesus, Sean. I'd give you a hug, but... you know. Spiky hug of death vest, and all."

Then I noticed his face.

The right side of his face was covered in tiny little bits of glass—but not exactly covered... embedded. Thousands of tiny, speckled flakes of crystal light glittered and twinkled from his skin, from his forehead down to his jaw.

There was no blood.

"Sean... your face..." I whispered.

There was a break in the gunfire. A cop suddenly poked his head in through the pane-less office door. "You guys okay?" he asked urgently. Behind him, a stream of cops flowed and rushed by.

"We're good," Sean said, grunting as he delicately shrugged the glass covered vest off, dropping it heavily to the floor. "Be there in a sec."

"Sean, where's Henry?" I said.

This was insane, SO insane. My mind wouldn't stop repeating it. I literally couldn't believe this was happening—even though it was.

Just get a grip. Keep it together.

"He's safe downstairs in his own max-seg cell," Sean said, looking around to take in the decimated office. The side of his face glittered and sparkled in the light as it turned. "Which is probably the safest place in the entire building at the moment."

He turned back to me.

"Get under the desk and stay there until it's safe, got it?"

"Sean, wait—

"I'm serious, Ava. I'll be back. Keep your head down and stay here."

He hurried off, half-crouched and low, his pistol drawn and at the ready with both hands.

I immediately left the office, hunched over low on my own and going the opposite way Sean—I headed back the way they had brought me in. I knew exactly what that thing from the alleyway was capable of...

And there was no way I was going to sit and wait to be slaughtered.

Henry.

My lips burned. I wiped my mouth with my arm, smearing blood down my forearm and on the back of my hand.

My sneakers were silent on the carpet. The gunfire started again, and now I could hear shouting interspersed among the gunshots. There was a sudden colossal crash, a deep thudding collision so big that it shook the entire building and made me jump.

This was such a stupid idea—I should have stayed in the office. I was so tense, so freaked out, I couldn't calm down, couldn't breathe. My heart was beating so hard. I've never been so scared in my entire life. There was no way to control it, just no way.

And then I heard my dad's voice... echoes of the past whispering in my head.

It's okay to be scared. Ignore it.

Just focus. Get downstairs.

Then my own thought.

Henry is downstairs.

I entered a giant room—an administration department? It was a confusing maze of infinite generic office cubicles, all separated by chest-high cloth partitions. It seemed like there were hundreds of them, arranged in a chaotic grid, confusing paths that went on forever.

I kept my head low, beneath eye-level of the cubicle walls, stepping quickly and as lightly on my feet as I could. The gunfire downstairs had become sporadic now—there was only the occasional burst of popping.

There was nobody else up here.

Just me.

The lights suddenly went out. The total and complete darkness was so sudden I almost screamed.

oh my god oh my god ava don't panic don't panic

Then—

The fire alarm lights above on the ceiling began to lazily glow, a languishing strobe that slowly faded on and off, its rhythmic pace as slow as lethargic as the siren.

And then I saw something standing out from the dim, strobing light—

A big, bright red EXIT sign.

It was straight ahead... through the gauntlet of cubicles. I had barely gotten started planning my path through the aisles when every hair on my body suddenly stood on end. The temperature instantly felt like it had dropped thirty degrees.

I completely froze, terrified to make the tiniest sound or movement.

I felt it.

The room began to slowly fill with a black mist.

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