Page 103 of Carnival
“If Vivian’s plan is to blow this entire thing up, that means not only killing innocent people but her own, too. Why?”
Hudson’s asking all the right questions, but the Devil isn’t letting me stay put. I pace around the small room, my chest aching. I need to get to Rose. I need to find her, immediately.
“Vivian is a sick bitch,’’ I speak up, both men looking at me. “Is she cunning and intelligent? Extremely, since she’s managed to grow this organization from the ground up. But when she’s angry, she doesn’t see reason. And Rose trying to escape infuriated her, so now she’s going to the extreme to prove that it’s her way or no way.’’
“Jesus Christ,’’ Arlo blows out. “Does that mean she’ll likely hurt Rose just to remind her that she doesn’t stand a chance?”
My jaw locks tightly. “Yes.’’
“How long do you think we have until the bombs go off?”
“I’m not sure,’’ I admit, though reluctantly. “The best course of action would be sending your men to take over the entrance and start evacuating people as quickly as possible. It won’t save everyone, but we need to try.’’
“Aw, when did you start caring about who lives or dies?” Arlo mocks.
“I didn’t,’’ I roll my eyes. “But Rose does. And if all these people died and we didn’t try to help them, it would ruin her. I’m not letting that happen.’’
The mockery vanishes from Arlo’s expression, replaced by a look of determination. He nods, firmly, then turns his attention back to the screen. He’s clicking something, typing God knows what on the keyboard, before he pulls out a small earpiece from the pocket of his coat.
“Here,’’ he tosses it at me, and I catch it with ease. “I’ll stay in to direct you. As soon as I find Rose, I’ll give you the location. Mom and Dad will be on the lookout for Vivian.’’
“You think she came here?” Hudson asks, and I respond before Arlo gets the chance to.
“Yes,’’ I look at him, then head toward the exit of the van. “If she actually blows this place up, she’ll want to have the first row seat. Her arrogance is her biggest enemy.’’
Before Hudson can respond, I’m out of the van.
The cold, crisp December air hits my face, the snow just starting to fall. It’s almost eleven in the evening, and there’s no sign of people leaving just yet. If anything, the crowd’s gotten bigger than when we first arrived here.
After I managed to subdue Vivian’s men, I took the first car, and luckily, there were people on the streets. I robbed one middle-aged man and took his phone just to call Hudson. Unfortunately, the old man did call the cops on me, so I had to move quickly.
The snow makes no noise beneath my boots, though; it’s hard to hear anything over the loud music, chatter, and laughter that fill my surroundings. I’m careful how I act, with my hand broken, a scary clown mask, blood all over my white shirt, and the butcher knife in hand. Well, I do look the part of one of the employees of the carnival.
As if I hadn’t been killing people at this very same event for years.
“James,’’ Arlo’s voice cuts through my train of thoughts, and I wince. I underestimated just how loud the earpiece can be.“Turn right. You’ll walk through the food stands, and Rose’s near.’’
“Near?” I ask. “Can you not tell me where specifically to look?”
“I don’t see her right now,’’ he says. “She was being pulled into a dead spot by one of her friends. I can’t tell if they’ve moved from that spot, because no cameras are reaching there.’’
I let out a string of curses, picking up the pace. I walk with purpose, shoving people out of my way, and not giving a fuck if anyone’s complaining. My right arm throbs, and I know I need to have it checked out quickly, because the adrenaline from earlier is starting to wear off, replaced by a massive amount of pain.
In front of me are many, many food stands, tents, and anything of the like. The lines are big, and it’s one of the most crowded places.
“Where exactly, Arlo?”
“Your right,’’ he instructs. “The dark green tent.’’
Immediately, I take a right turn, seeing the tent in question getting closer to me. Seconds pass like years, my heart beating furiously in my chest. Not a single thought but Rosalie is in my head, and all I can see behind my eyes when I blink are her eyes.
She’s probably scared.
My blood boils at the thought of anyone scaring her. That ends now, and no one will ever scare her again. I’ll make sure that any threat to her is sent six feet underground before they can even breathe in her direction.
“You said a friend pulled her aside,’’ I say, raising my voice for Arlo to hear through the earpiece. “Who is it?”
“Chase Woods.’’
