bedestroyedâthan allow that to happen to even one more of us.
I stepped through the door, stopping to let my eyes adjust. It had been dark outside, but it was darker in here; the only light that found its way in was through the windows, and most of those were covered with signs saying RENT THIS SPACE .
The floor was marble, one of those nice-looking entryways that made you forget you were probably here to see a therapist or dentist. There were doors on either side of me, both closed and sporting tinted-glass windows, and the lobby stretched out into darkness ahead of me.
Everything was silent as I moved, walking carefully across the pristine floor. I listened hard, alert for any sign that I wasnât alone, and a subtle change in air pressure warned me a second before I heard a distinct click behind me.
I whirled, going immediately into a crouch, only to discover the figure behind me doing the same.
âDonât move,â she hissed, and in her hands was a gun. It was pointed directly at me.
CHAPTER THREE
N OW, I âD SEEN ALL kinds of guns since I started training at InterWorld, from all worlds and times. Blasters, emitters, ray guns, laser guns with detachable Bluetooth scopes, plasma guns, you name it. This was a modern handgun, a Colt .45. Basic, easy, and still able to kill me twice before I hit the ground.
âWhoa,â I said, holding my hands out in front of me.
âDonât move,â she repeated. The gun was leveled at me unwaveringly, and from the look on the face behind it, this wouldnât be its maiden voyage. I wondered if thatâs how I looked in my weapons training classes. I imagined it wasnât far off, since we shared the same face.
âJosephine,â I said, trying to make my voice as soothing as possible. âItâs okay. My name is Joe, Iâmââ
My words didnât have the calming effect I was hoping for. âItâs you, â she snarled, and her hands began to shake. âYouârethe one who was in my house that day!â
âYes,â I said, but didnât get any further. She started to stand. So did I, but she gestured me back down with an angry jerk of the gun.
âYou ruined my life,â she spat, edging closer. I was well versed enough in weapons to know what a bullet from that gun would do to my head if she fired. She was still shaking, though it was obviously from anger rather than fear.
âYou donât want to fire that,â I said, trying to be reasonable. I hoped she couldnât hear the panic that was threatening to shatter my calm. âThe police station isnât too far from here, theyâll hear the shots.â That was a guess, actually; I remembered that the police station was on a street of the same name as this one, but I had no idea how close or far it was from here.
âI donât care,â she said, standing just out of my reach. She was about my height, dressed in loose jeans and a baggy hoodie, both of which looked like theyâd seen better days. Her frizzy red hair was short, barely touching her cheeks, and looked like it hadnât been brushed in a while. Despite the baggy clothes, I could see that she was thinner than was healthy. All this added up to a desperation that made me believe her next words. âItâll be worth it. Even if I go to jail, itâll be worth it. Theyâll finally stop coming after me.â
I didnât bother pointing out that if she killed me, it wouldnât matter if she went to jail or not; sheâd likely be deadeither way when FrostNight destroyed everything. There was something else I could use to make a far better point.
âNo, they wonât. They arenât after me! Well, they arenât just after me. Theyâre after you.â The pieces had all fallen together. The HEX agents outside her house had been waiting for her to come home. The bad guys had found her because Iâd Walked there