Page 112 of Hell Breaks Loose

That’s when I realize for the first time who the guy is on the stage. My view was obstructed before.

I couldn’t figure out why Hellena looked so shocked.

It’s him. Evan. In the flesh. Alive.

He dove for Marco right before the gun went off, knocking Rachelle out of the way and tackling the prone man. No one got hit.

The surge of relief and horror intertwines and erupts through my body in a wicked flush of grief and confusion. Like a rebound of shame and regret slamming into wanting to break down in tears of joy.

Oof. Good thing I’m in control of my emotions.

Evan. How did he survive?

How did Rachelle…?

No time for those questions now.

Raising my gun, I sidle up to the platform, covering Hellena, trying to get her attention. But she’s focused on the two men grappling, rolling across the red carpet, fighting for the gun in Marco’s hand.

“Stop! Both of you!” She scrambles to her feet, her dress catching and ripping in her dash to intercede in the fight.

“Lena! Watch out!” I’m trying to find a shot, a way to end this. Too many bodies. Too risky.

Marco slams Evan in the face, knocking him back, raising the gun…

That goes soaring from his hand as Hellena kicks out as hard as she can, snapping bones in his hand in the process. Marco howls in pain, flopping back and writhing.

“That is enough!” Rachelle screams, still wearing the microphone.

The noise rattles the windows on the house behind us, adding to the madness around us.

It’s another eye in this storm, a pause where every single eye is drawn to the finale. Center stage.

Funny. Evan would really appreciate this sort of thing if he weren’t a mindless drone.

Rachelle’s perfect makeup is smeared, her gown torn from falling.

And her eyes are wide. Too wide.

Like completely fucking out of her mind wide.

“We said we will have order. We will have what is ours! We will take, consume, fuck, destroy, devour…!” Her voice quavered from high to low, cracking in different tones with every sentence.

Almost like someone else is speaking through her.

Which is our cue to get the hell out of here.

“And kill!”

The motion is so quick.

The barrel of the gun leveling at her side.

And firing point blank into Marco’s head.

Another moment of shock, the Ghosts staring in awe of their leader. Marco’s men staring in disbelief at the murder of theirs.

Just enough time for me to grab Hellena and drag her off the stage, into my arms.

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