Masks are Greater than Sunglasses [ COMPLETE ]

six - in shock

*Happy Thursday time for an update! Hit that like button and make sure to comment on your favorite parts, I love seeing your feedback!  *  

- Rya -

A blast wrenches my feet from under me, throwing me forward. The side of my head bangs against the concrete for the second time in as many days. Pounding thrums through my bones as they absorb the impact. It feels like someone hit my skull with a hammer. I can feel tears streaking down my face unbidden. It takes so much effort to pry my eyes open but when I finally do, there's a fine hazy layer clouding my vision.

A sharp ringing permeates my thoughts. My eyes flicker up as a singular snowflake appears from the gloom drifting toward me. So peaceful. I watch as it floats toward my cheek. It lands, burning against my skin. I gasp, the pain bringing me back. It's not a snowflake.

My eyes widen, taking in the scene around me, the haze around is actually a fine layer of ash floating through the air. Debris is scattered around me. Through the smoke I can see dark figures racing back and forth.

Pushing myself up, I stagger to my feet. One of the figures breaks out of the crowd and races toward me but I barely notice, so absorbed in keeping myself upright through the pain wracking my head. When my eyes focus again I find myself face to face with a gray mask that I've seen before.

The Super from the other night grabs my wrist and pulls me with him through the ash. I glance behind me, a fire smolders in the charred remains of the food truck. The world around me spins as I look back in front of me but I can't stop walking. The Super is still dragging me through the crowd. Panicked people run in every direction, but it seems as if they are far far away. Their voices barely reaching me.

I stumble to a stop as the Super releases my hand. We are far enough away now that the smoke has cleared and my vision is unobscured. I sway slightly on the spot until the Super again takes my arm and lowers me onto the bench behind me.

He's looking around, gesturing with his hands but all I can hear is the same loud buzzing. I close my eyes, hoping that the darkness will stop the stabbing pain shooting through my skull. It's all too much, I just want one second to reorient my brain.

Roughly, I'm shaken by the shoulders. My eyes spring back open. The Supers mask is now inches from me. He yells, breaking through the buzzing, "You might have a concussion, do not close your eyes."

Once he's sure that I understand he yells again, "Stay here."

Fighting to keep my eyes open, I watch as he disappears into the mess of writhing people in front of me. The buzzing is starting to die but the pounding in my head has not. What is going on? Now that I have a moment to think, I can feel panic creeping in on me. Did someone truly bomb Westend? There's no way, there's no way.

But denial does no good when the evidence is right in front of me. A thought comes unbidden into my mind, is someone targeting me? I mean two days in a row. That can't be a coincidence. I can feel my heartbeat speeding up, I try to slow my breathing but it doesn't help. My hands shake with alarm as the adrenaline surges through me.

Someone taps my arm and I almost jump off the bench in fright. Two men tower over me, dressed in nondescript dark uniforms. The closer man gives me a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes as he appraises me, "Let's get you out of here ma'am. We have an ambulance waiting."

"But I'm supposed to-" I mutter, glancing around to see if the gray Super is around. The world has been put on fast forward and my thoughts can't catch up. The people running around the parking lot where there is definitely no ambulance. The man tries to pull me to my feet but I resist, my voice going up an octave as another wave of panic washes over me, "I have to stay here."