"Well, that could have gone a little better. I think perhaps I am losing my touch," Professor Johann Schneider walked down the corridor away from Noah's room, Gareth at his side. "I am not sure all this subterfuge is good for my old bones."
"You'll get used to it," Gareth said mildly.
"And perhaps you would have done best not to sound so threatening when you said you would watch him," Johann said.
"I told him what I was going to do," Gareth shrugged. "Nothing much more than that."
"The problem with paranoia is that it is very hard to get through. Noah did not trust a word either of us said. I want to help him. The simple fact of being on a List is hard enough, but being on a List when it shouldn't even be a factor any more?" Johann stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led to the ground floor of the dorms and gently put his hand against the pinned sleeve of his left arm.
"Professor?" Gareth stopped after getting ahead of the professor. "What's wrong?"
"It's this List business, Gareth, my boy. After all the work we did. The sacrifices we made." Johann looked to Gareth with stony eyes. "It seemed certain that the List had been beaten for good. That there would be no more Lists left. Pandora and her Horsemen were defeated. What was it all for, if not to end the author of Lists?"
"What are you trying to say?" Gareth asked, leaning on the edge of the elevator. "Are you trying to say that Pandora is somehow back?"
"No, I do not believe so. Highly unlikely." Johann stroked his chin. "What is strange that it happened to someone like Noah Barker. Someone who has both experienced a List, and experienced something he thought would be a List. Someone who was commited to the Hearthome Psychiatric Hospital because their sense of reality was lost."
"So you believe that he is making this entire List up?" Gareth shook his head. "With the deaths that have happened, it seems likely that the List is real."
"If he is inventing a List, he is certainly not aware of it. And like you say, it is unlikely the deaths of Charles and Finley Sullivan were accidents of the genuine kind. No, there is something strange with this List of Noah's and I am determined to get to the bottom of it. That was why Charles asked me to come, of course." Johann shook his head. "Such a loss of a great mind."
"Professor," Gareth said with a low voice. "It would be risky to speak of the mission given to us."
"My dear boy, it is only us. Sometimes an old man must speak his mind to get a wrap on his thoughts," Johann smiled. "Besides, Valentine trusts us to play this game of spies. You have comfortably put yourself within Jason's group, have you not? You seem to be getting along well with them."
"Yes, Jason is a good man. The others, too. I feel… accepted," Gareth reached over from the elevator doors and patted Johann on the shoulder. "It was due to your wise words that I was accepted, Professor. I will always owe my place with Jason to you."
"Don't be so foolish. It seemed a natural fit for a man with talents such as yours."
"…There was a time you did not believe in the killing of others, professor."
"And there was a time I had not expected the dead to rise from their graves, and yet here we are. There was a time when I thought that at this point in time, I would be sitting in my office with Jäger, marking dissitations, and planning my retirement. The world has changed, opinions have changed, and our goals have changed, dear boy. The List claimed my arm. Claimed people I loved. Dear friends. Valentine asked me to come here to investigate this new List and I feel I owe it to them." Professor Johann Schneider patted Gareth's hand, still on his shoulders. "I just wonder if he had expected these masked sins to be present in Hearthome?"
"Aye, it seems there are threats on all sides, professor," Gareth gently pulled the professor close. It was a strange action and Johann looked up to the soldier.
"Gareth, my boy, what is wrong?"
Gareth's steely blue eyes were cold and unforgiving. "It seems as if it is time for you to spill all your secrets."
Johann shivered and tried to pull away, but he was old and had not the strength against Gareth's youth. "Gareth, please unhand me at—"
In one swift movement, Gareth swung around behind Johann with one arm locked around his neck, and the other locking the professor's one arm behind himself. With the vice grip in hand, Gareth pushed the professor into the elevator doors, that had opened just in time, just as planned.
"Stay down!" Conner hissed as he and Wasp crouched underneath the window frame.
"Don't even try to give me orders. You do what I say," Wasp glanced upwards. "Gareth will not waste shots. He won't fire blindly. He'll attempt make every bullet count."
"How many has he got before he needs to reload?" Conner asked.
"Eleven."
"Eleven… Got it." Conner nodded.
"Look at you guys! You look scared!" Charlotte called from her position on the table.
"You say that, but look at you," Conner snapped back. "I can see your legs trembling. At least that confirms you really care for your sister." Charlotte frowned at this response. Conner looked back to Wasp. "We cannot leave her here."
"What do you suggest?" Wasp asked.
"I thought you didn't want my orders?" Conner asked before shaking his head. "Sorry. Not the time. We just have to wait for an—"
Another CRACK rolled through the air, but this time it wasn't aimed into their room. As soon as Conner's mind confirmed this, he shouted: "Door! Go for the door!" At the same time he leaped towards Charlotte and dragged her down to the floor, chair and all. He quickly slipped the knife that the DHP had not taken off of him yet out of his clothes and sliced through the bindings of Charlotte's ankles, leaving her hands bound, grabbed her collar, and practically hoisted her towards the doorway where Wasp was already waiting.
"Go, go," Wasp lead Conner down the corridor as crouched as they could, with Conner pulling Charlotte with them. Down the end of the long corridor was the room where Berlin had led the fake sins. As they reached this room, they heard sobbing and cries.
Berlin was crouched down below the window frame, holding the quivering form of Rebecca Cox close to him. Marcus had managed to get his figure under the window frame as well, with the warden himself, Theodore Hearthome, behind him.
In the middle of the room, Derek was huddled over the figure of David, who was sporting a hole in the center of his throat, and was gouting blood all over David's hands.
"No, David, no, no," Derek pleaded. Tears streaked down the lean man's face.
"Get down!" Conner called from the doorway as Wasp crept into the room. Derek glanced up to look at Conner with his tear-streaked face.
CRACK!
The shot took Derek straight through the back of the head, pulverising the front as the bullet exploded out with force, hitting the doorframe to Conner's left. Fragments of skull, muscle, and gristle spattered against the floor and Derek fell forward to join the corpse of his friend.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Rebecca was practically hyperventilating. Berlin made a few hand movements to Wasp and then paused, noticing Wasp's expression.
"Aren't you Department bastards meant to protect us?" Marcus growled from his position. He slowly peeked above the window frame. "What the hell is-"
"Don't!" It was the Warden who shouted and tried to pull Marcus back down. Nevertheless as soon as Marcus peered over the window frame, the CRACK of the rifle shot echoed, and the back of his head blew out in a torrent of blood and gore. Marcus Morris' large figure fell backwards with a thump. The warden stared at the fresh corpse, eyes wide and horrified.
Berlin was a well-trained member of the DHP and as soon as the shot had rung out, he had practically dragged Rebecca across the room to the doorway, where Wasp was quick to grab her and get her behind the wall. Theodore hesitantly followed, scrambling over himself to reach them. Berlin quickly got through as well and took one look at Conner and Charlotte before glaring back at Wasp with those hard eyes of his.
"Where's Jason?"
"He's down, Erw… Berlin," Wasp caught herself and quickly controlled the shakes of her body. "He's down. It's Gareth. He's not dead. He's the shooter. I don't know why, I don't know, I just…"
Berlin's face seemed to grow even harder. Ever the professional, he simply placed a hand on Wasp's shoulder and looked to Conner. "Shepherd. What is your plan?"
Conner didn't even try to joke back this time. In the space of perhaps less than five minutes, there were four new dead bodies in Hearthome. There was no doubt these shots had alerted the rest of Hearthome and it would not be long until panic set in. "We need to get to the library. We need to get to Penelope Hayes."
"Bringing her?" Berlin jolted his thumb at Charlotte, who at least had the sense to remain quiet.
"I ain't letting her out of my sight. She claims to want to work with us if we save her sister. But I ain't giving her the chance to run the fuck away." Conner said.
"Sensible." Berlin took a moment before staring hard at Conner. "Shepherd. Take Charlotte to the library. The others are there now. Take all of them to the back of the library, near the exit, do you understand?"
"Got it." Conner nodded.
"Good. Take these two as well." Berlin pushed the crying Rebecca towards Conner. She looked frightened and was practically unmoving. When she saw Conner, she squeaked and seemed to grow smaller. Theodore seemed a little bit more in control of his own head and gently grabbed Rebecca's arm. "Wasp, with me."
"Where are we going?" Wasp asked.
"Where do you think?" Berlin said firmly. "Traitors deserve to wallow in their own blood." He looked back at Conner. "Shepherd. You did us a service during the Apocalypse that saved you your life. I need to trust you. I need to trust that you will not allow Charlotte Hayes to escape, and that you will protect as many lives as you can. Do you understand me?"
Conner nodded. "Loud and clear. But Berlin, you can't go head-to-head with a sniper, especially not one as skilled as Gareth, you know that. Position yourself as you will. We can't just hide from him. Wait for the eleventh shot. I'll make sure the timing is right. That's when we act, got it?"
"The eleventh shot?" Berlin nodded. "Understood. Shepherd…" He gripped Conner's arm tightly and then passed over something to Conner, who gripped it in surprise. "Good luck." With that, Berlin and Wasp both seemed to blend into the shadows of the corridor as they expertly moved their way to the other end. Giving them a moment, Conner took a breath.
He looked down at the object giving to him by Berlin. It was the pistol that Penelope had used against John, the same pistol that had been taken underneath the prison. That fact that Berlin had given him something like this… a gun was a very different object from a knife. Conner understood the trust that Berlin was placing in him. A strange foreign sense of responsibility rose in him. He looked to the quivering Rebecca, the warden trying to keep his bravery, and the bound Charlotte.
"Look at that, they're trusting a killer like you. Things must be serious." Charlotte smirked. "And look at you, pretending like you're the hero."
"I ain't no hero," Conner murmured. There had been four shots already. It was clear that Gareth was a patient man as there hadn't been any other shots yet. Conner had said to Berlin to wait until the eleventh shot, but that meant he would have to draw out those shots. "What a fuckin' pain in the ass," Conner growled, grabbing Charlotte's arm. "Rebecca, Theodore, go, now! Keep low, keep quiet, keep slow, and go!"
The warden nodded and half-pushed Rebecca down the corridor, following Conner's instructions. Conner followed suit, dragging the bound Charlotte with him. Already his brain was working in overtime, trying to figure out the best next action, to both save Penelope Hayes, Theodore Hearthome, Rebecca Cox, and whoever else was on Gareth's hitlist, as well as get the DHP to Gareth Griffiths. Even despite the circumstances and the danger, it was pleasing to Conner to be able to think this way.
There was nothing like the smell of the hunt.
"What the hell is going on up there?" Ollie asked, looking up to the ceiling of the library. "It sounded like… gunshots. It couldn't be."
Noah didn't respond but agreed with Ollie that it had sounded like gunshots, although gunshots in Hearthome… the only gun he knew about was the one that had been used to shoot John in the stomach. Did that mean this sister of Penelope's had escaped? It seemed unlikely but he supposed anything was possible.
Penelope herself was nursing her face where she had been hit by Robyn. Robyn had taken a seat on another table further in the library, and Professor Johann Schneider was sitting across from her, murmering slowly. The breakage of the camera and the realisation that she had been used had taken a great toll on her, Noah could see that.
Noah wanted to help, he truly did. Yet he had his own problems to deal with. Ever since the first gunshot, she had appeared silently in front of him, sitting at his same table but with Ollie and Penelope not taking any notice of her it was clear that she had to be in his head.
The girl with purple eyes. Hope. She wasn't speaking, just sitting, as beautiful as always with practically glistening skin. Noah just stared at her, unsure what was happening.
After the fourth gunshot, Hope suddenly turned to Noah with a smile that could enrapture anyone who dared look at it. It was almost like she was enjoying the gunshots around her.
Noah just stared at her, unsure of what his mind was starting to do. This girl with purple eyes, this Hope, continued to haunt him, but she didn't seem like a ghost, not the same way that Lily Talbot had. Yet whatever she was, just like before, she was interfering in his life, and Noah was starting to feel that frustration of this fact growing within him.
"Death is such a beautiful thing, isn't it?" Hope suddenly said, low and musically. She finally turned to Noah. Noah did not reply. "There are still four more to go, Noah. I have seen when they will happen. I have seen who will fall. I wonder if you will prevent that. It interests me."
"What is it with you?" Noah asked, drawing the attention of Ollie and Penelope but not caring. "What do you want from me?"
"I thought I have made that clear. There are rules and you are one of them."
"Why are there rules? What's the point of it all? What do you want out of this?"
"There are always rules to a game, Noah. And I've told you what I want. I want to be free. The four poor souls will give me that freedom, when the List claim them."
"The List is not a game!" Noah could feel his grip tightening on the edge of the table. He didn't care that Ollie was looking at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was, just as he always suspected.
Hope gave a small, lovely chuckle.
"Oh my dear, of course the List is a game. It always has been. It just so happens that this particular game is needed to save me."