[b]Spencer[/b]

It felt like eternity before Spencer was even able to process the words falling out of Professor Marlowe’s mouth. Protect the citizens. Spencer’s eyes fell on them in an instant, and as the words of her Professor drummed through her mind, fear enveloped her with a brewing intensity. “Um,” she stammered, sweat beading on the back of her neck. She felt so utterly exposed in that moment, as every pair of eyes locked just on her, looking for answers. 

What was she to do? Build them a fort made of ice in hopes that no bullets come in contact with it? No, she wasn’t to use her powers in a scenario such as this unless it was life-threatening. And apparently being shot at didn’t classify as life-threatening. 

She attempted to swallow but her mouth was so terribly dry. She felt sick to her stomach, even though she hadn’t had a single thing to eat all day. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins with every passing second, and as the gunshots sounded, her inability to think clearly increased tremendously. She wasn’t equipped to deal with so many people at one time, let alone keep herself safe for that matter. 

Why hadn’t the professor offer to take this position? Surely he was more adept than she was. He’d had more years of this than she had, and could better control his emotions, so why hadn’t he done it? Why did he hold the student of a mere three weeks responsible for the lives of eleven innocent civilians? Perhaps because he was busy with other means. He had other things to take care of, and by the looks of it, these students seemed to be doing an excellent job at fighting back. Especially Rory, who flung herself at anyone with a gun. She was so agile, it made Spencer wonder what her ability was. 

The other girl, Mila, had fled. But not because she was overwhelmed and scared – no, she was fighting back, too. Mila was shooting. This was nothing new to Spencer, so why did it feel so fucking real? Like this was the first time she’d been put in this position? 

[i]Spencer awoke to the sound of screaming. It was mommy. Rickie, who lay next to her, with his head burrowed in her side, was trembling. She reached for his arm and held him close, his chin resting on the crook of her neck. “Shh,” she cooed. “It’s okay.” But it wasn’t. Spencer knew that. There were guns, she could hear them, but she tried to cover Rickie’s ears before he heard them, too. 

A gun went off. Rickie wailed. The person in the other bed stirred. Spencer cupped her hand over Rickie’s mouth and implored him to stop. If daddy heard him, they’d be in so, so much trouble… 

“Shut the fuck up!” growled the person in the bed adjacent to theirs. It was a man, and he was angry. Spencer pleaded as Rickie tried his best to stop, but he simply couldn’t. The guns had scared him too much. 

There were footsteps nearing their room. Daddy had heard them. And he was carrying the gun. He burst through the door, and all three of them jumped. The man settled back into his bed, though, knowing that this wasn’t abnormal in their household. He wouldn’t have to know the pain. 

“Who’s cryin’?” he slurred, taking a swig of whatever alcohol he held in his hand. He swayed to the bed slowly, and then all at once, resting the gun on Spencer’s leg just above the covers. Her leg throbbed. The gun was so heavy. “I’ll give you something to cry about.” 

“Daddy, no, please—” Spencer cried as the gun was pointed at them.

In the dark. Always in the dark.[/i]

Jerking her head to the sound of a reverberating bullet, Spencer whipped herself around and swept a gun off the ground, aiming it where the man currently stood and pulling the trigger. It was so abrupt, that she hadn’t even noticed the man collapsing, hauling her own ass up with her eyes suddenly narrowed. 

“Yeah,” she answered to Professor Marlowe. “I got this. Everyone, get up! Follow me. Don’t you leave my side until we’re out of here, got that? Let’s go.” 

Going in the direction that Mila had gone through, Spencer pointed the gun directly ahead of her, easing her way down the hall with tentative steps. Had she not been absolutely alert, she might not have noticed the gaping hole in the wall just to the side of her. A statue that had previously been implanted into the wall had fallen to its death, leaving behind an opening that could very well lead these civilians to safety. 

“Stay back,” she told them, to which they obliged. Crouching down to eye level of the wall, she spotted what she believed to be sanctuary on the other side. It, too, had been wrecked, but not as badly as they’d gotten it. Plus, she didn’t see any soldiers which was a serious plus. 

But the hole was far too small to fit even a child through it. If Spencer was going to get them over there, she was going to have to find a way to break through this. Unfortunately, the only way she thought that to be possible was to use her abilities. “Fuck,” she hissed. Referring back to the people all huddled together, she instructed them to stand behind a beheaded statue, and stay there until she said otherwise. 

They were reluctant in doing so at first, but giving the lone man there a gun seemed to calm them down a bit. It was a good thing they didn’t know how little time Spencer actually had. More of those phasing soldiers were coming. Not only could she feel it, but she could hear it. 

Spencer went to the opening with her palms pressed firmly against the wall around it. She closed her eyes and took a breath, transferring whatever ability she had to her hands that would then branch off to the wall. It took time, and it took patience – which she had very little of. Her powers worked with little time to spare, and using a block of cinder, Spencer smashed down the iced portion of the wall, managing to widen the wall a bit. It was a tight squeeze, but it would have to do. 

“Come on,” she urged, and one by one, the civilians scrambled through. She followed after and was immediately greeted by a line of soldiers with their guns raised. They weren’t going to hesitate to shoot, for that Spencer knew. She could take them all at once, but what were the odds that she missed one before it was too late? She couldn’t risk that. 

She was running out of options.