Hunter. Sydney Robinson

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      Chapter Five

      The hot shower that morning felt like the best thing to ever happen in Angel’s life, at least as far as she could remember. The water drenched her hair again as she stood under the torrential downpour coming from the showerhead. Angel was so tired; she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night before her adventure and got none after it. She had only just made it to her room when the bell went off, and she had to quickly grab fresh clothing as to make it to the bathrooms and showers before anyone else noticed that she was sopping wet.

      Scott had been right. The extreme emotions were gone now, but the smaller ones were still there. And she could feel the larger ones on the horizon just waiting to break free again already. Angel was already planning to try again at the end of the month. Shutting the water off, she dried and changed before heading out into the hall. Angel had no idea what to do with her wet clothes from last night, knowing that if she threw them down the shoot, someone would become suspicious. At the moment, they were in a messy ball shoved into the bottom drawer of her shelves, along with the knife.

      Angel quickly towel-dried her hair before tossing her towel into the shoot and making her way to the entrance hall for PT. When she got there though, something was off. Seven Elites stood in front of the door and formed a ring around the students who were filing in. Angel made her way down the stairs to the growing crowd of people.

      In a normal situation or location, Angel felt people would have been talking among themselves, trying to figure out what was going on and why everyone was there. But this was not a room full of ordinary people. To everyone in the room, except for Angel, this situation brought no questions and didn’t strike anyone as out of the ordinary. So what if the higher-ups chose to gather around them today? It was not their position to question their actions.

      Once all the students had gathered in the room, a short two minutes after Angel entered, Jaroslav moved from his position near the top of the stairs. His voice echoed through the room as he spoke, causing everyone to focus on him.

      “Last night, one of our students was killed on the grounds. We are unsure if the murderer is still among us. Because of that, the Council has opted to forestall calling in Elites from other outposts as well as from the field to deal with this. It is now on your shoulders to find the person responsible for this.” Jaroslav turned to a woman standing at his side. She passed him a tablet, and he began to read from it, “As follows is a list of temporary teams put together by the Council. These teams are meant to mimic the teams you would be placed in as a Prosworme.”

      Jaroslav read off the names, and slowly the room filtered out as groups of people moved to different locations in an attempt to come up with some plan of action. Angel stood in silence. Someone had died last night, murdered by an individual who was potentially still among them. Angel looked around the room, searching for two individuals in particular and waiting to hear either of their names. Jaroslav was halfway down the list when Angel heard her name, followed shortly by the one name she was hoping to not hear—Erik.

      The said boy slid into place behind her. With the crowd clearing, finding people in the hall became that much easier. Erik placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t turn around,” he ordered, his voice cold and calm. Angel moved her head so he was no longer talking into her ear, but he growled, “What did I just say?”

      Angel stopped and stood still. Jaroslav’s voice in the background was now fading into a muffled, muted sound. She could feel Erik standing behind her; he was so close that his chest brushed her back with every breath he took. The weight and heat of his hand was like a vice grip on her shoulder. She could tell, because it was his left hand holding her right shoulder, that he stood almost perpendicular to her. This position did not give him much leverage over her and could almost be interpreted as a sign of good faith. However, Angel had known him long enough to know that nothing Erik did was ever for the gain of anyone but himself. Lucky for her, though, someone else was paying attention to them and saved her from whatever it was Erik had planned.

      “All right, looks like we are a team then. Should we get moving or maybe stay here? Bet all the good planning locations are taken by now. Oh! Wait, I know, we could…” The voice of Chase cut through the silence that had formed around Angel and Erik like a knife through soft butter. Angel had always wondered if there was something wrong with Chase mentally, considering that he was always so hyper and peppy even when none of them seemed to display emotions. Erik shot Chase a glare that shut him up and pushed Angel out of the entrance hall, expecting Chase to follow them.

      They had entered the hall that led to the lower west wing of the school, located under Angel and Erik’s room. The only real room on this floor, aside from classrooms, was the armory room. Angel cast a glance back at the bookshelf that blocked the entry to the old staircase (almost the exact same as the floor above). Erik caught her looking back and pushed her down the hall with more force.

      The armory door was located to the right almost as soon as one began down the hall that led to the back of the school. This placed the armory directly underneath the higher-ups’ rooms. Chase moved in front of them and opened the door only to find another team in there already.

      “Ah, guess we will be moving on,” Chase muttered, slowly shutting the door.

      “You do that,” one of the boys commented before the door was shut. He was older than them, and Angel had no idea who he was. But just with the short glimpse of him, Angel had gotten warned to stay far away from him.

      Grumbling to himself, Erik cocked his head toward the next closest room. “Try this one.”

      Angel pulled the door open and walked inside. The room was empty, so she climbed onto the desk located in the front of the room and looked at Erik expectantly. Chase pulled a seat over and sat near the desk she was sitting on, while Erik remained standing but made his way over to the barred windows. Angel wondered for a moment if he noticed the bars or not as they sat in silence for a several minutes.

      When she had finally had enough of the quiet, Angel broke the silence. “So what’s the plan?” she asked.

      Erik looked at her and then back out the window before replying, “There is no plan.”

      “What do you mean?” Angel asked, confused. She was trying to hide her emotions, but it was getting more complicated by the moment. Ashlee was out there somewhere, having killed Kelly at some point last night, and all Erik wanted to do was sit there. “Why aren’t we coming up with one then?”

      Chase, who had been sitting quietly, probably waiting for orders or just lost because he was out of his element, spoke up, “I’m all for a plan, but we don’t have a target.”

      “Yes, we do,” Angel insisted, standing now.

      “And who would that be, the mystery killer?” Erik asked, moving toward Angel in a confrontational manner. “For all we know, this is just another test from the Elites. No one actually died. They were just trying to see how we all react.”

      Angel moved so СКАЧАТЬ