Note: Appreciation for the ones that are still here. Now on with some… turbulence.
Chapter 7. Face off at the University, Part 2
…interesting."
"Time."
"At least 30 minutes."
"We're good then."
Someone cautiously sips some water while maintaining most of his or her sight on a diagonally positioned object.
"It is, partner. That vehicle looks identical to the one I caught a glimpse of yesterday."
"It would be far fetched to assume that another same colored, same model car would arrive at our University the next morning."
An explosion of glee befalls a person; possibly due to the miraculous processing of the mind. It should come as no surprise that a idea centered, emotionally thrusting, yet manageable, willing being, who can expresses free will, can produce great results in a short period of time.
[Away from the schemer]
The trio synchronically open the doors & exit the vehicle, Viktor instantly locks the vehicle.
"All good at my end."
"Mine too."
"Mine 3."
"All right. Be alert." – Adam says calmly, firmly.
He is also the one that leads the other two on a path towards their goal with the other 2 being just a little diagonally split; although, no sane person would try to thrust oneself into their reach zone. To anyone attentively analyzing this, the trio really capture the sense of strong, steel based bonds that are better than most. Reason being – the circumstances in which they find themselves are clearly tense, liable to tragedy.
[…]
"…all of them?"
"Not exactly, partner. If we can increase the complexity of the investigation, then it's a no brainer."
A turn of the face that quickly oozes soft malevolence, cruelty, even a depraved outlook on something.
"Besides, we still have several hours before we frame her for all murders."
"The tally."
An arrogant, condescending grin appears.
"Correct. It will grow and the internet users will devour it even more crudely."
"Then I suggest we start with that female cop on the further entrance."
"Are you sure your up to the challenge?"
"Hmmm. Oh yeah. I even have a plan,… partner."
A triple shot of ambiguity blasts outwardly.
"Lets explore it."
At the police department. The Federal Bureau of Investigation (short for FBI) – outclasses the regular detectives in some cases. A crucial factor in this assessment, evaluation alludes to time management. Usually, regular detectives are at a funding disadvantage, since they are part of a 'basic' law enforcement unit. On the other hand, the Bureau has more funding, better preparation, specialization when it comes to murders of the serial killer type. Anyway, the director whose the boss of both Bailey & Fortune had a discussion with the latter about the participation of Tara and her friends in the current investigation. It took about 10 minutes; the blonde female came out on top. Therefore, her approach gained the dominant position. Fortunately, admirably, she wasted little time in reserving probably the largest conference room in the building for everybody to comfortably fit in it. They took an hour in both allowing Special Agent (short – SA) Reed to present her affiliates work on the investigation and talking about several points of it.
Suddenly, a stream of water erupts, smashes onto the outer side of someone's palms. In an unorthodox manner, the person drops them onto the bottom of a sink.
"Hmph. Hmph."
The breathing – heavy, discouraging, depleting; the psyche constantly stumbles in forming a stable surface for needed growth to occur.
"She's gone. She's actually gone."
The view on the crucial matter at hand transitions from realism to pessimism.
"After all the… understandable, yet… insufferable actions she's taken with regards to me,…"
A deep exhale followed by shutting off the water stream.
"…I'm on the brink of losing her forever."
Eyes rise up towards a mirror for the 1st time in the current space.
"Last year, I had so much hatred towards the way you handled us being sisters. I was hospitalized, traumatized,… disdainful at the World for letting this all happen to me."
A second incidence of a inner, bleeding heart extrusion. She looks down on her palms for a split second before shooting back up to the mirror.
"And now you've been abducted by some killer. And I feel helpless of saving you. That is why…"
Even a small tear appears in an eye.
"…I'm sorry I've failed you, Sam."
The reality of encouragement, even done by someone close, to lift up the spirit is that it correlates with the quantity of pain, psychological damage being felt by the person who needs said uplift. This becomes grimmer, uglier if a traumatic event or chain of events from the past compounds the misery; thereby, requiring either a larger thrust towards progress or a masterful, uniquely personal latch.
"Chad?"
The subtle inquiry manages to refocus the male's mind on the present, leaving the past & the future channels alone.
"Quinn."
"You're struggling, hurting."
"Well,… yeah. I'm not fond of our current situation."
"No one is, bro."
"We're just troubled by your downbeat state. It can become contagious to us all."
"Which would leave us in an unfavorable position." – Mindy finishes her girlfriend's train of thought.
The short black haired male lifts up his eyes; now their able to encapsulate the romantically involved female duo. Activeness, vigorousness dislodges misery, pessimism, hopelessness from the top of the emotional pyramid. By adding 2 clearly positive substances onto the pinnacle, which is what transmits to the noticeable plain, the willfulness to achieve victory is reborn. The long, red haired female is 1st to understand said shift/transformation.
"How they holding up?"
Erik cautiously, calculatedly moves his eyes to face his partner; once again, they exchange information through mere eye contact.
"The dread is wrapping around them. Ever tighter."
"Rational. The mind is shackled to the innate fragility of a Human. That chain may become unbearable, so the mind internalizes, rationalizes or morphs the problem."
"The most distraught – her younger sister."
The female who led the investigation at the start quickly concludes that stifling a passionate urge would be more detrimental than beneficial.
"You really haven't met Mis Carpenter face to face?"
"No." – Kirby calmly replies.
Now 2 peoples field of vision incorporates the seemingly gritty detective.
"Correlating trauma. We both suffered massive physical and psychological damage against the phenomena of Ghostface."
"I do not disagree with that, Special Agent. But that begs a question that I've already asked before – what is his goal?"
He ominously closes in on Reed's shoulder.
"If he wanted her just dead, that was the time to do it."
This refreshed a part of her analytical processing. Despite its creepy, ambiguous presentation, the point of view remained valid. Abduction by the serial killers was nothing new in the lore: Mickey acted that way, Roman treaded in similar waters. Crucial difference – their 'prize' or, more respectfully, their main focus was never the one who was abducted. Therefore, such a unique chain of events automatically presents a new viewpoint. Even with the dozen years behind her, the miraculously survived female manages to rekindle the spark, passionate intrigue towards mysterious murder stories. An idea was building, but was, unluckily, stopped, since…
The door opens. The FBI agent only needed a glimpse of the recently arrived person for the mind to pause its processing. Everyone's in the room affiliated, long black haired, densely dark eyed female returns; her short height meshes well with her eyes. It emphasizes her aura, presence within the room.
"I'm ready now."
The younger Carpenter both ominously and confidently marches to the closest chair.
"Ready for what, T?"
"Ready to take down these pranksters."
The trio in law enforcement move past the point of recognizing the turnaround in her mindset; its implication or influence within the confines of their group is the aspect that already garners, draws significant attention.
"Sobbing over this tragedy does nothing to extinguish it."
A threatening, lightning quick shift of the eyes towards the last inquisitor.
"Ghostface is betting on my crumbling, Mindy."
A lean in, elbows widening across the table.
"I'm not going to let that continue."
FLASH! Another moment in time where Kirby is the 1st to grasp, intake a shift in their task's trajectory.
"Chloe!" – Jeff shouts, more than adequately barging into the room.
"What happened?"
"Police officer on Blackmore's campus called just now! 3 suspicious people went into the main building 5 minutes ago. Their vehicle of choice – same one that was cited on the perimeter of yesterday's party house."
Several seconds of priority rearrangement, emotion control.
"Ready 3 pairs of 2! We're moving their now!"
Outside the mentioned building. Out of all the people in the, lets say, 500 meters (~1650 ft) radius from the main entrance, a singular person near an extruding part of the building forwarded the notion of non-affiliation with the educational body. The stance, the clothing decision, an intriguing belt, suspiciously large black jacket on top – all of it pointed to someone, who is probably dangerous, able to accomplish more than average.
"The last 24 hours have been insane. Two killings, an abduction and it all leads to 3 guys carefully marching into a college building on Saturday."
Abruptly, in the cycle of watchfulness, said person notices someone emerging from the furthest side of the building.
"Help! Help!"
The frantic one soon locks onto the standing one; the latter rains in the uprising fear, sturdiness is outsourced.
"Please help, me!"
Swiftly more information about the worried person emerges: sex being male, moderately tall, age pointing to late teens-early 20's.
"What's going on?"
An answer is only given when there is barely any air separating them.
"My friend… Something wrong has happen to… him."
"Easy. Refocus your breathing."
"Hah. Hah."
The welcomer argues that the site or event which triggered the male's hasty movement is not a mere scare or prank. Something egregious has, more than likely, stunned him & his friend.
"I don't have my phone with me."
He looks directly at the other's eyes.
"Can you please call the police for me? That's the only thing I ask. I'll explain the situation to them."
"Relax yourself, mister. Luckily for you, your speaking to an officer.
The public servant welcomes the sight of the male's psychological easing.
"First – what's your name?"
"Jason."
"Alright, Jason. What occurred exactly?"
[Inside]
Silence – the dominant force in the hallways across every floor. Of course, some lecturers or professors spend some time at the weekends; they are usually the ones who are extremely dedicated, arguably obsessed, with their profession. This Saturday is even sparser in the people's department, given the recent traumatizing death of Laura Crane. Its automatic tying of facts understandably discouraged a fair amount from their 'pleasure'.
"…Safe to say, your timing is fantastic, Adam."
"I had a change of mindset earlier in the morning that got me here in time."
The male quartet is in conversation in one of the many empty spaces of Blackmore; in particular, their current inhabitance alludes to the field of physics with several contraptions, which are used to visually present a specific dynamic of that field.
Calculatedly and confidently, Cody pulls out a sheet of paper from a small drawer.
"You're really going on a manhunt for Larry's murderer?"
"That's the challenge of today."
"He was a person who we cared about." – Viktor interjects.
"The circumstances, the way, the possible mindset tells us that it is not an ordinary criminal." – Raymond adds on top.
One of the main party organizers takes several seconds in getting impressions from everyone's face. Not even one percent of hypocrisy, pretense rolls out from it.
"Alright."
He extends the piece of paper.
"Here's everyone on the 'Special Guest' list."
Adam happily takes it and starts looking at the names. Also, a forward-thinking idea shows itself.
"Who could have had access to it?"
"As far as I know – only me & Craig."
[Within the same structure]
Jason & the female police officer, who called in the disturbance at the University, are carefully, methodically going up the stairs to the 2nd floor.
"So your friend is laying hurt just on the right?"
"Yeah. Unless he crawled like a maniac."
Being aware of possible dangers, she forced Jason to be in front of her. Yes, her mind ultimately came to the conclusion that aid is necessary and he is a victim. Although, there remained a small part of her that assessed this as a technique to bring her into the building. To what end? It was unclear. The overarching message remained – the male's desires might be sinister, only masked as compassionate, caring.
[Inside the shut room]
"I do hope you find this son of a bitch."
"You can be certain of one thing, Cody."
"That is?"
A callous, stern look appears.
"He or she is not going to discourage us."
"I rate that."
"Since we're all here, I'd advise…"
BSHHHH! Everybody's ears tense up, sights thrust towards the interruption. Understandably, it takes a finite moment for them to realize what kind of scenario they have chosen to participate in.
The immediate aftermath of the interruption. The slowly closing in duo are rightly cautious of their movement right now, since the loud noise came from the same floor.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Seeing the distraught informer & remembering the incoming brigade of officers, the female officer bolsters her confidence, so she can incentivize a shift in the approach.
"Your sure its to our right?"
He turns around.
"Definitely."
Ray opens the door and… there is nothing there. He turns around to face the trio; two of them extrude an idea with only their faces.
"That side clear."
Vik methodically, at a specific pace moves up to the right of his affiliate.
"That side clear, too."
"Right."
Adam shifts his eyes to Cody.
"Get your stuff and we'll move out together. Just make sure there is no more copies of that list. Any more of them jeopardizes our ability to catch them."
The welcomer nods and jumps to putting all the essentials into a laptop carrying case while the arguable leader slowly paces closer to the other two.
"Alright then. Move back and we'll move on my count."
He nods, calmness drenching back up onto the stage. A rational reason – the pullback form the edge from which peeking can trigger deadly consequences. A pistol is pulled out. With the rearranged stances, the officer turns her head.
"On the count of 3."
"Okay." – Jason whispers.
As soon as she angles it back to the starting position, a heedful intake is taken. Confidence and courage level is checked over.
"1…"
Out of nowhere, she suffers a substantial hit to her calf. This swiftly dislodges the ability to properly assess the everchanging environment around her. In a complete shock, a metal sphere comes out of the corner and smashes heavily into the forehead. Now dizzy and suffering – the officer falls down to the ground; naturally, the grip on the gun is, at maximum, faintly present.
"Great plan, partner." – Greg braggingly expresses, coming out from the corner.
"Told you that their good will is profitable."
They exchange looks and he throws him a wooden baseball bat.
"Finish her off. We've got more celebratory stuff down the line today."
If the male duo were prone to semantics, then she might have had a chance. Clearly, their thoughtfulness in their destructive actions raises them above basic criminals. The umber brown eyed male smiles callously before smashing the bat to the backside of the female's head; result – an unconscious person. Then, to make it definitive, the taller male knifes her in the neck, joyfully twists it the flesh.
"The hallway's safe."
"Coming Cody?"
"Right behind you fellas."
As soon as he's only a meter (~3ft) apart from Adam, he walks out of the room, pistol aimed at the further end of the corridor. Seconds comes Ray, then – Cody, lastly – Vik. The trio remain ultra- vigilant: two stand and scout the further end, one – the shorter end.
"All good."
"Okay."
Everyone lowers their weapons, begins closing in on a major staircase. The abrupt loud blast was concluded to have originated from a fragile object's destruction. Obviously, this poses a question – why would someone act in such a way? Of all of them, Adam felt a rise in tension in his limbs the most. The implications of requiring to shoot someone was not the primary reason; the fact that it was midday and his hair rose up all over the body worried him far more. Even though nobody asked one another about their feelings, everyone came to the same resolution – their status achieved inauspiciousness, ominousness.
A couple of minutes later. A person crosses a road onto Blackmore's territory.
"This is where that guy studied."
The field of view is slowly altered 180 degrees, to both sides; the mind is already conjuring the best possible approach in this presumably hostile area.
[Back inside]
"There. The origin." – Viktor whispers to Adam.
"I don't see the person behind it."
"I believe we should rush for the exit. Whoever he or she is, she cannot stop us all." – Cody quickly voices.
"Be careful, friend. We're not dealing with ordinary people here."
He takes a deep breath.
"We should still keep moving."
"That's a necessity."
The black haired male looks at the area just beyond the stairs.
"Right."
Soon, he and Viktor enter a synchronic mechanism – both take one step downward and scout the visible field for any unclear, threatening movement. Being the only one unarmed, Cody's transition between the floors happens in between the armed ones; a wise collective decision by the quartet.
"Only a plate."
"TNK! TNK!"
"What was that?"
"Possible footsteps."
"Coming from the right."
Everyone listens in, but a second wave of similar sound is nowhere to be heard.
"Get to the edge of the wall. I'll survey the broader angle."
"I'll lookout for something else."
Vik crouches up onto the wall, enters a wide stance, back brushing the jacket onto the hard, strong surface. A brief exchange with Adam before a 2 step closing in. First the male takes a step, then takes a few seconds of analyzing the surroundings. With every passing second, tension, a worrying perception aimed at the future grows.
The person stops a finger width of hair protruding out into the blind spot/area. Everything about the current situation sends pessimistic, discouraging, precarious signals to the mind; soon, it becomes impossible to view the action as anything other than a deadly bet. Here is where a guy's fortitude comes into the court of judgement.
"You got the gun. You can take it."
Rapidly after the self-improvement talk he inches forward, nose's end creating a perfect right angle with the wall. 3… 2… 1… Viktor goes around the corner, pistol coming up and ready to fire at the far end.
"WOOOAH!"
He drops down to one knee just in time before a tomahawk comes flying in smashes explicitly against another wall.
"VIK!"
Their relative informant feels a blast of fear enter his emotional sphere; the ability to restrain himself becomes grimly challenged. 'Flight of fight' scales gain an erratic substance. Adam realizing the potential danger coming to his comrade, thrust himself forward.
"FFFFFSSSSHHHH!"
The sound swiftly confirms his decision as correct. He bets this time by launching himself as a spear. Thereby, in a split second, Adam knocks Vik down chaotically & painfully face first to the ground and the 2nd tomahawk goes, now, above both their heads.
"HRAAAH!"
"Got you guys!"
Raymond brings his pistol close to his chest and dashes closer to the lying duo. As soon as he passes Cody, the latter thinks:
"Fuck this! He's too insane to be stopped."
Thump, thump, thump. The last armed person comes out swinging, blazing – appears out of the corner with no intent to reevaluate the possibilities and fires 3 bullets at the fleeing, black hooded figure. Thump, thump, thump.
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks for the save."
"Happy to keep you alive, man."
"Did you get a glimpse of him?"
"Yeah. Blood red mask, probably the same shape as Ghostface."
Trusting his inner voice, Ray looks around and is immediately terrified.
"Cody's gone."
"Leave that to me. Go get that slime while I look for him."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. That person's already shaken by heading down to the 1st floor."
"Okay!"
Ray nods and runs after the attempter.
Seconds pass. To the sole remaining unharmed, mobile, determined male, being shrewd is the primary characteristic. When one remembers them being startled by a plate, endangered by 2 sharp objects that resulted in the grounding of half of them, an unfathomed disappearance of Cody, the overall negatively intrusive atmosphere, such thinking is overwhelmingly rational. Still, he surveys the desecrated female body, its unavoidable spill of blood before going down a floor.
"Hmph."
Feet smash onto the ground and a 180 turn around is performed; on the further side, a noteworthy detail is found.
"I'm going to get you, punk."
The male moves hastily down another hallway, his mind is quite clear, fortitude appears to be holding strong. Most armed people would enter a clearer state when seeing a trail of blood.
[Upper floor]
Vik has one knee in a right angle to the stable surface, the other one is bent & holding a pressing arm. Despite it not being objectively painful, everybody experiences pain differently. So it is realistic for a person to struggle from 'just' a slam head first into the ground.
"This went… good? Bad? Neither."
"Brush up, man. Ray may need your assistance."
Adam subscribes to Holmes' school of thought – the most likely outcome is the correct one. Thus, the descent down is enacted.
[Lower floor]
"A fresh up, huh?"
The tracker opens the door to a male's rest room. A new clue is obtained, which was predictable to its founder.
"I know you're here."
The male ways the spots where the attempted murderer could stand/hide. In a few seconds, an option is picked which is followed by 2 bullets going through the stools, diagonally to his right.
"Really?"
A slight lowering of the gun, then a thrust to check lone blind spot.
"Hah."
BSHHHHHT! The enemy chaotically, yet fully commits to a spear at the male. By doing so, they plow into a sink; the hit lessens the grip on the pistol three times.
"HRRR!"
Right then Ray sees the black hooded figure's face; Vik's sighting proves to be right – there is a blood red, not traditional Ghostface masking the identity of their foe.
[Upper floor]
"Enough healing."
A bold blast upwards.
[Lower floor]
"NNNNNCH!" – he shouts by redirecting a knife into a sink to the side.
"Hah!"
PFFF! Ryan punches the enemy's face; consequently, this enacts a separation between the conflicting sides.
"Hmph."
A miraculously quick overview of said opponent couples with a callback to the time they were pressed onto each other. A discovery is made.
"Oh…"
Teeth become vibrant.
"So you're a she."
"You won't escape."
"Not without a few more splashes."
A degree of arrogance props up inside of Ray; laying low in the subconscious realm. Their separation lasts barely enough time to note – the duo go back to fighting. The male tries to hit the female twice; she dodges both and takes a swing with a knife. Now he evades the slash and lands a mediocre hit to her upper chest. It prove successful that, given natural upper muscle advantage, results in a brush up against the wall. He wastes no time in striking at one of her forearms; thus, the knife descends out of the palm. CHH! Another strike lands to the enemy's upper chest. It is at this moment in time that the arrogance lifts itself into the conscious field & aids immensely in steering clear of reclaiming the firearm.
"Got to finish this."
Raymond argues that definitely cracking this Ghostface's bones just below the neck leads to the end of it, assesses quick timing is essential and goes in. Only split seconds separate the common folks win over a depraved person! Yet…
"Heh!"
A malicious grin is conjured that is, in extreme fashion, followed up by a ducking of the incoming hit. Luckily, Ray releases the fist, so the palm can slam into the wall quite delicately.
"AAA!"
She slashes with a pocket knife at his knee which triggers the yelp. It slightly weakens his stance; not the most tragic thing… KAPOW! A clearly thought out, high energy requiring fist blasts into his stomach.
"K!"
Almost as if they were portraying a sublimely choreographed, timed scene, the Ghostface female incarnate gets back up while the recently armed male falling onto his knees.
"Wow."
A swift retrieval of the knife.
"You definitely took a tall on me."
Both realizing the grim game of letting your opponent get up and the rising lunacy, crave for depraved destruction, a finish maneuver is rapidly conceived. No time for the reweighing of options.
"This should…"
"Ray! You see that scum anywhere?!"
"Shit… Guess it can't wait."
First the emotion is irritancy, then it transforms into passionate boasting. The kneeling feels a resurgence, so decides to turn towards the enemy.
Less than 2 kilometers (~1.2 m) from the Blackmore. The classic police sirens are heard blasting by the horror icon, stereotype or fictional group of late teens with the yearly accustomed travelling civilians.
"What was that?"
"A call from a professor at the school. The killers have welcomed the faculty to their work." – Fortune answers calmly.
[In the mentioned place]
"What the hell happened, Vik?"
The in the doorframe standing friend slowly, methodically turns shifts his field of vision.
"Nothing good."
The words are hollow, lack any trace of life. Compounding the feel of a horrible chain of events with the deliberately lowered eyes, a fear for the worst becomes palatable, tangible.
"Oh no." – Adam lets out in the faintest of tones.
Here he laid – Raymond, their cherished male friend, back down, blood around, visible flesh on the knees, stab in the neck and a gunshot to the forehead.
"You were so… great."
Adam walks closer the now lifeless body.
"And you should have defeated this bitch."
An ominous, compassionate, demoralizing closing in on the face; post-tragic event emotional turmoil can invoke contradictories within the Human mind. Vik just stands in the doorframe, choosing to pay tribute to his fallen friend from a further distance.
"And yet… you couldn't."
They close their eyes in unison, bathe in the atmosphere surrounding them.
Not even a minute passes before the more detached one picks up on a loud, looped noise.
"You hear it?"
"Yeah. It's the police."
"I know we want to respectfully say goodbye to him, but we're out of time, man. The killers have booked, which leaves us in an extremely threatening position."
"You suggest moving?"
"Hitting 100 away from here before they catch us."
A few seconds are used for a tilted, dot connecting tactic within the mind.
"You're right."
He jumps up and spins around.
"Lets move."
"What about Ray's gun?"
"Let 'em have it. He's got a license and, as you said, our enemies are long gone."
The black haired male begins a high speed journey.
"Alright then."
[Road leading into the parking lot]
Abruptly, yet in a synchronized manner, 3 police sedans park horizontally in relation to the curb; drivers facing the entrance of the educational facility.
"Okay now! Listen up!" – Chloe screams.
Everybody encloses her. One could easily spot 2 different sort of people within the meeting.
"Me & Kirby will be both taking one cop each to survey the inside. The rest start setting up a perimeter around the university. There is a high chance that there will be a crime scene and we don't know the whereabouts of the killers, so stay on high alert."
The blonde looks to her left.
"Finally, Mindy & Annika. You aid the officers securing the outside. Anyone suspicious you point to and remain in close proximity to at least one officer. Understand?"
"Yeah."
"We understand."
"Alright! Move out!"
[Not substantially apart]
"Yes. The police are finally here. Lets hope that the killers have let a trail to grab hold off."
A tree provides the person just enough cover to be highly obscured; at the same time, the area where they parked their vehicles provides a clear vision of anyone who would attempt to limit movement.
"Hmmm?"
An idea or heightened instincts urge a shift of 180 degrees.
"We still have the paper!" – Adam shouts.
"Splendid! Then we're still in the fight!"
They dash past an average street with Viktor noticing something moving to their side, a couple of seconds before being unable to see.
"Man!"
"Yeah?!"
"I think we have a tailer!"
"Yeah?! Who?!"
"That blonde girl from the party!"
[Fairly early in establishment]
"…That rule may or may not pay off."
"Oh yes it will." – Annika states with glee.
"Why?"
She swiftly aims her finger at the movement's origin.
"That person is making his or her way to the other street way too suspiciously, given our time of arrival."
"I see your point."
The officer jolts his forearm closer.
"Chloe. Come in."
[Away from campus]
"Get out of the way!"
"Boiling water on the highway!"
Adam remains the one who is leading them towards a place where they can take a break; both somewhat chaotically make their way down the street. More often that not they avoid any momentarily derails with civilians.
"She's still back there?"
Viktor takes a split seconds to catch a glimpse of the presumed tracker.
"Looks like it."
The mind is kicked into overdrive for a way severe their bond. With such a traumatizing event fresh in one's memory, taking any chance with someone looks foolish. Even though it is a throw away thought, familiarity may have been one of the causal factors for Ray' death.
"We'll separate if we make it over with this green!"
"Double your speed!"
They reach their full potential in terms of ability to run; naturally, this leads to higher chances of crashing into someone. Fortunately, a slight nick of one's shoulder is the only instance. Moreover, this masterful, evasive dash concludes in them getting over to the other sidewalk.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!"
"Uch! Uch! Uch!"
The duo are catching their breaths, constantly improving their air cycle. With a short period of leisure, Adam looks to his side, directly at the corner where they might have been stuck. The sight? Fairly intimidating. Hailee stands in the middle of the crowd, eyes stone cold, no inclination of flinching; more so, this act portrays the female as a person who is not finished with the male duo. The day's adventurous trajectory remains unchanged.