Before he can explain, the pop, pop, pop from an automatic weapon goes off. Frightened screams fill the area, quickly turning from excitement to fear. An avalanche of bodies rush down from the bleachers and Mag pulls me just under them to shield me, making me crouch. “Stay down,” he orders.
I grip part of the metal underbelly of the bleachers. “What is it?” I ask, even though I already know.
He creeps out from under the bleachers and then darts back. “Cole just called me. He told me something was about to go down. We need to get out of here.”
He starts to move toward me, but I move just out of his way. “Brawler’s out there! And Oscar and Johnny! We’re not going anywhere.”
Magnum sighs, then reaches into his pockets and takes out the keys to the car. “Take the back hallway. Get to the car and leave. Don’t look back.”
I stare at him, pushing his hand back toward him. Another round of gunfire fills the space amidst more cries, and we both duck. A cluster of people run by us, searching for any way out. I’m about to head toward the bleacher opening when two people come careening through the aisle, masks of terror on their face. The one closest to us falls. Dead eyes peer back at me, but the other body ducks inside, and I meet a pair of blue eyes that make my heart leap.
I can’t even make my mouth move. I grab for him, and he scrambles under the bleachers with us. We crouch low.
“Who is it?” Mag asks, pulling his gun out, holding it in front of him.
“Never seen him before,” Brawler says. His bare chest heaves. Red splatters adorn his side, blood spray from when the person running next to him got shot. “There are a few though. I saw three. Two started going toward the box.”
My stomach turns over. If I’d eaten before the fight, I’d have upheaved everything right in front of me.
“Oscar?”
“I don’t know where he went,” Brawler pants. “Everyone dove for the ground. I couldn’t see.”
Mag looks at both of us, snarling at our fighting attire. Neither Brawler nor I have any weapons. “Fuck.”
More screaming ensues, sending shivers through me. The pure terror in their voices sends panic jolting through my limbs.
“I’m going out there.”
Magnum moves so fast, I can’t even reach for him. One moment, he’s there. The next, he’s stepping out into the aisle leading to where the gunshots are firing from.
I follow after him, ignoring his earlier command of staying where I am. I crouch next to the bleachers, and Brawler follows behind me.
At the end of the aisle, I watch as Magnum stands to his full height and pulls the trigger. Three shots ricochet through the room. He starts barking orders, his gun still out in front of him. “Move!” The other gunfire has petered out and hope swells inside my chest.
I creep out behind Magnum, keeping low while he surveys the room. At the apex of losing my cover, I glance to my right. A gun sits on the bleachers. Further up, a body lies across several rows, blood dripping off it and down the shiny surface.
I sneak my hand around the railing and grab the gun. Crouching back down, I open the chamber to see how many rounds there are. Four. I guess it pays to be in a room filled with people who have no problem carrying. How he got this through Security, I don’t know, but the bigger question is, how did the fucker with the semi-automatic get his through Security?
I walk out, Brawler following close behind with a hand on my back as we head toward the middle of the ring. Bodies litter the floor, scattered everywhere in varying positions as they were trying to flee. I quickly scan them and find no signs of Jiko or Oscar.
Masculine yelling catches my attention, and I stare up at the box to find a guy with a gun pointing it out the window.
“Run!” I barrel into Mag as we hightail it out of the open space, finding a place to stand just under the box. The glass explodes overhead and rains down onto the blood-coated cement. The crowd, still unable to get out, screams. Some cry as they crowd toward the exits once more.
My only thoughts are of Oscar and Johnny right now. I don’t know where Oscar is, but I know Johnny’s up there in the box. At least, that’s where I saw him last. “We have to get up there.”
Mag shakes his head. “They have the advantage.”
“Johnny’s up there,” I grind out.
Mag swallows, glancing at the gun I was able to pick up. “You know how to shoot that?”
“Yes.”
He starts up the steps to the box, keeping low. In my head, I’m thrown back a couple of weeks when we were at the warehouse looking for Farmingham’s body. We didn’t know what awaited us then, but we know now. Trouble.
“Follow me. Stay right behind me. If I tell you to run, I want you to run. Do not second guess me,” Mag orders.