Hunted

Forty-Five: Out of Time

The shot rang clear, reverberating around the stadium, chilling Iseult's blood and demanding silence from the awaiting crowd. Ashley's eyes widened, before they went out of focus, her body falling limp against the balcony railing. Iseult closed her eyes to the spray of blood, as Dr Porter fell. She tried to forget the blood spatter covering Elmhirst' face, the white anger in his expression as he stared into the cameras, his cold grey eyes full of burning hatred.

Iseult's mind swam for the briefest moment, fear and grief threatening to overcome her. She could feel the tremble in her hands and the swirling nausea in the pit of her stomach, but she didn't allow herself time to dwell on the horror of what had just happened. Instead she handed her mind over to her alteration, wanting the more clinical side of her personality to take over. She needed to be focused now, her mind clear and exact. There were going to be casualties, certainly. It was a fact she had always known, but how many more there would be, was up to her actions now. The fact that James was actually alive, offered hope, but every second mattered. She needed to get him away from the stadium, now, before Elmhirst did more damage.

James had fallen still in the middle of the pitch, staring in shock like so many others at the balcony, the time he had to get to Charlotte continuing to run out. Everybody was staring in tense silence at the balcony, uncertain how it had come about that their favourite instructor had been killed.

Grabbing the back of Ashley's jacket, Elmhirst unceremoniously pushed her body over the edge of the balcony to an audible gasp from the crowd. She seemed to fall in slow motion before crashing against the platform with a resounding thud, a sound that reverberated into Iseult's very core.

"He's not moving," Ethan complained, rushing down the steps to the edge of the stand, focusing more on James than on Elmhirst. Iseult watched him frantically trying to reach his friend, pushing dazed and frightened students roughly out of his way.

James seemed to be in shock, the cameras capturing his trembling fingers and his confused gaze.

"Run James! Run!" Ethan bellowed, crashing into the railing that separated the audience from the drop to the pitch below.

The words tore through the silence of the stadium, Ethan's voice pleading with him to move. The words seemed to sink in, reminding him that he had to keep moving, that his life depended on it.

"This is Alexander's fault," somebody muttered close by and Iseult spun around to see Vimal Chopra shaking his head in disgust at what had just happened.

"Elmhirst pulled that trigger. He pulled the trigger against James too, and don't for one minute believe he wouldn't pull it against you, if he believed he had cause," Iseult hissed.

"Deluca is right," Genevieve Blake agreed. "Elmhirst is trying to make it look like James and Charlotte are the bad guys, but honestly what did they ever do?"

"Are you kidding me? Owens always had a mouth on her," Chopra snapped.

"That's not enough reason to kill her," Noah Blake interrupted. "None of us are safe here".

"We'll all be dead by tonight if we don't get James away from that pitch, whether you agree with Elmhirst or not. He doesn't care about any of us. We are just products to be sold," Iseult said, turning her back on the arguing final years, to realise that they weren't the only ones having conflicts of conscience. Students seemed to be arguing in groups all about her, their voices growing, their movements become rough and frantic in places.

Yet she didn't have time to care. James and Charlotte's lives were dwindling and she still hadn't managed to signal Ian. If she didn't hurry, she would be too late.