Without pausing to look for a jacket, she left the apartment and ran barefoot for the stairwell, wearing only sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Her feet were nearly numb from contact with the cold concrete steps by the time she reached the bottom. She opened the door and ran through the lobby; but she was neither frightened nor foolish enough to burst out onto the street brandishing the gun. Instead, she slipped outside and walked quickly towards the commotion.
The crowd had swelled as people evacuated the burning building. It looked to Bryn like some of the lynch mob were trying to blend in with the newcomers in an attempt to disassociate themselves. But there were still several trying to intimidate Scott into backing down.
The man Scott had saved was standing next to him in the middle of the street, holding the rope coiled up in one hand. The woman who’d been screaming clung to the man’s arm, trying to pull him away. But whoever he was, he apparently wasn’t going to abandon Scott, who spoke to the crowd in a calm tone.
As Bryn got closer, she made out his words. “There are cameras everywhere these days,” he said. “You may think you can get away with committing a crime when everyone around you is doing the same, but you will eventually be identified and prosecuted.”
The closest person, a tall bearded man whose hair looked red in the light from the fire, spat on the ground at Scott’s feet. “My cousin died from the disease scum like you are spreading!”
Another man stepped forward, gesticulating wildly. “My sister’s family had to abandon their home to the xenofreaks on Coney Island. They burned it to the ground! Just like that!” He pointed to the burning building, which radiated warmth that kept Bryn from freezing in the cold air.
“We had nothing to do with any of that!” the woman yelled. The man who’d been hanged looked like he wanted to say something, too, but he held a hand to throat as if he couldn’t talk.
Several people from the crowd began shouting, trying to talk over each other. Bryn stayed back, standing on a discarded piece of cardboard to protect her feet from the frozen sidewalk. She concealed the gun under the front of her t-shirt, deciding if she was going to shoot anyone, it would be the bearded man, who seemed to be lynch mob’s ringleader. Without their leader inciting them, maybe Scott would get out of this alive.
Just when she thought the entire block might break out into violence, red and white flashing lights from down the street heralded a police vehicle. The bearded man sneered and turned, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Bryn exhaled in relief as several more men decided retreat would be prudent. She expected the man who’d been attacked to welcome the police, but he, too, made a hasty retreat, dragging the woman along with him.
Scott tucked his weapon into the pocket of his leather jacket and walked back across the street. He was still wearing the eye patch and almost passed by without seeing her.
“Hey,” she said.
His head jerked around. “What are you doing out here?” He looked her up and down and shrugged out of his jacket to lay it over her shoulders. “It’s dangerous.”
“No kidding,” she replied, falling into step next to him. The police car pulled over to let a fire truck through, and two firemen immediately began unrolling a hose from the side of the truck.
“Are you barefoot?” Scott asked. Without waiting for her response, he swept her up into his arms.
“I can walk.” It was a weak protest because she was secretly glad to get her frozen feet off the ground.
When he saw the little gun in her hand, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “What am I going to do with you?”
He carried her all the way to the entrance of his building before she convinced him to let her walk the rest of the way. When they left the stairwell and entered the fourth floor hallway, he held out an arm to stop her. Beyond his shoulder, she saw a dark-clothed figure sitting cross-legged in front of his door.
Bryn squinted in the dim light of the hallway. “Is that...Mia?”
Hearing her name, Mia turned towards them and then scrambled to her feet as they approached.
Scott looked into her pale face. “Is it Alton?”
She closed her eyes briefly. “No. Can I come in?”
Scott shrugged and glanced at Bryn. “Sure.”
When they were all inside, Mia said, “I apologize for showing up here like this, but I didn’t really know what else to do.” Her voice cracked on the last few words, as if she was fighting back tears.
Mia was petite, but Bryn knew she was tough as nails. Even though her erratic behavior seemed to be fueled by something more than exhaustion, Bryn asked, “Have you slept at all?”
“No. I’ve been running back and forth between the hospital, the morgue and the lab.”
“You want something to drink?” Scott made a move for the kitchen, but she grabbed his arm, another unusual move for the germophobic doctor.
“I need your help. And I need it fast.”
“Yeah, okay. What is it?”
Then she said quite possibly the last thing Bryn expected. “I need to get a xenograft.”
Xenofreak Nation, Book Three: XIA by Melissa Conway will be available in the summer of 2013.
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Xenofreak Nation, Book Two: Mad Eye Page 24