[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/KWWiNfS.jpg[/img][hr][sub][i]Two's a Crowd[/i][/sub][/center][Color=228B22][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]CAIRNS / AUSTRALIA:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][INDENT][sup][COLOR=SILVER]May 3[SUP]rd[/SUP], 2019 - 19:12  | Bed & Bar Hostel[/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT][/COLOR]	
[indent]Even for the off-season, the hostel was exceptionally dead.  On a Friday night, the lobby should have been a hub of activity; travelers coming and going, meeting up with new friends for a night out.  Or there should have been people downstairs, broke backpackers spending the last few dollars they always seemed to be able to scrounge up for drinks. But the staircase down was roped off, and Megan, potentially the universe’s last Martian, and Australia’s self-appointed watcher, was spinning in an desk chair.

Not that she was unhappy in her position. Even if Cairns was hot as a solar flare and so humid opening a window was likely to flood a room. The desert was never more than an hour’s fly away, and hospitality work suited her. A city full of tourists was an easy place for Megan to fit in; she was no more eccentric than the hundreds of other strangers that flooded the streets every week. Usually. But business was slow, nearly twenty minutes after her shift had ended and she had more pressing activities for the evening than spinning in a chair. Even if it was a very good chair; very smooth with minimal squeaking in a blessedly air-conditioned room.  She grabbed the desk to halt the movement and refreshed the computer screen. The month's schedule remained stubbornly bare. On a whim she checked the internet. No headlines to worry about in Cairns. That should have been a relief, but nine days had been too long; there had never been more than a week between attacks before.

[colour=228B22][i]Maybe It’s just over?[/i][/colour]

The thought was almost pleasant enough to erase worry from Megan’s mind. After all, how many suicidal vandals could there be in one city? Megan pushed off the desk again, just as the door chimed open.

[colour=D3D3D3]"Slow night?"[/colour]

She neatly toppled to the floor in effort to stop herself. Oliver was smiling in the doorway, not in the least annoyed that the his sole working employee was apparently surfing the net and playing with his office equipment.
 
[colour=228B22]"Sorry- I- Yes."[/colour] Megan stopped, steadied herself, and continued in a slightly more cohesive manner. [colour=228B22]"Two early checkouts and four more cancellations."[/colour]

The smile stayed on Oliver's face, but waves of anxiety rolled off him, abruptly ending whatever small respite Megan had found from her own tension. [colour=D3D3D3]"Fire makes people scared."[/colour]

She examined his face closely then, but no. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. The fires [i]had[/i] been terrifying, for everyone. Real terrifying, not the quick thrill that drove tourism up like haunted buildings or idle threats. Whether the intention was to hurt anyone or not, fire couldn’t be controlled. Especially not in a downtown city. 

[colour=228B22]"Rooms are spotless, haven't had to replace a mattress in a full month."[/colour] Her poor attempt at humor went unnoticed.

[colour=D3D3D3]"Though you were finished at 7 today?"[/colour] While grateful for the change in subject, Megan offered no more than a shrug and a shift of gaze away from Oliver. It was response enough for him though. [colour=D3D3D3]“Jenna.”[/colour] He concluded.

[colour=228B22]"It's not really any trouble- I think she had an appointment with..."[/colour] She floundered for a moment, but quickly gave up and visibly deflated.  She really had to get better at lying. Not a skill she'd be proud of, or want to use, but to have the [i]option[/i] would be nice sometimes, at least to keep her friends from getting into trouble.

[colour=D3D3D3]“No need to defend her, knew ow she was when I hired her. Jenna would be late to her own funeral if it were possible.”[/colour] He relaxed slightly, his smile slightly more genuine. [colour=D3D3D3]"But I'm sure you had better plans for a Friday night. I'll cover until she gets here."[/colour]

Megan was standing before he finished, and out the door before she remembered to thank him.  She managed to catch it before it slammed behind her. [colour=228B22]"Thanks!”[/colour] Oliver only lifted a hand in acknowledgement, already sitting in her place, eyes glued to the computer screen.

A small thing like the sun no longer hanging in the sky, or the fact it was nearly winter had no effect on the City's heat: it hit her like a wall the moment she was out of the hostel. Suddenly a night spent sitting idly in an air conditioned office was very appealing. Megan glared at the red haze of the remaining sunset over the western skyline before making her way south.

The intrigue of three charred storefronts had worn off the city quickly. Now people avoided the entire block. They'd been empty when the fire began, and as always the body count had been exactly one.

[colour=228B22][i]It takes a whole new level of crazy to burn yourself alive.[/i][/colour]

It was too easy to slip back into the horrific memory; Megan standing helpless a quarter mile away from the blaze and still somehow choking on the smoke. She shook it from her mind and focused on making herself invisible after a quick glance ensured she was truly alone. The attacks never happened in the same place twice, but Cairns wasn't used the these sorts of attacks, and compensated their inexperience with caution.  There were cops station never more than a few blocks from an attack site for a few weeks after the fact.  The first pair Megan found were parked outside a servo, a radar gun perched on the dash that neither were paying very close attention to. She had no difficulty slipping through the door to sit in the rear seat. She was no detective, had no resources, so she'd discovered listening to police scanners directly the quickest way to receive news on the city. It didn't take long.

[colour=D3D3D3]“Code: 305 Westbeach Caravan Park. All available unites respond.”[/colour]

[colour=D3D3D3]“No…”[/colour] The man in the passenger seat looked to his partner. [colour=D3D3D3]“Can’t be right. Hostages? How?”[/colour] The driver said nothing but pulled into gear. Megan felt sick. Enough so to hesitate, and only the lurch of the car moving reminded her that Westbeach was the other side of town, and the only way she’d get there before it was all over was on her own. She drifted through the vehicle's roof and over most of the city. In no time, red and blue lights dotted the grid of streets. But for once Megan didn’t need to follow them; the Caravan Park was another backpacker crash spot, she knew it well enough.

There was a small crowd outside the gated fence, not media or police, Megan noticed as she lowered; civilians, tourists. At least the place had been evacuated. Sirens were approaching, there wasn't time for recon; Megan knew too well what would happen as soon as the cops showed up. She was determined to get answers this time. She flew over the small crowd and scanned the park for anyone else.  Not to far in there were three figures, a young man with a younger girl kneeling on the ground, and-

[i][colour=228B22]No. No way.[/colour][/i]

Refusing to believe her own eyes, Megan lowered herself to the ground in the image of a police officer; the same  tall and dark man she nearly always used for these situations. She hadn't been wrong, and was struck dumb by the realization. Jenna was staring at her looking rather bored, but expectant, with a gun casually held in her left hand.

[i][colour=228B22]Where did she even get a gun?[/colour][/i] 

[colour=228B22]"Jenna?"[/colour] That got her a raised eyebrow at least. Megan tore her attention to look at the hostages.  The young man was staring at the ground, jaw set firm.  The young girl barely looked old enough to be a teenager, she'd been crying. Neither looked hurt. 

Megan let out a breath [colour=228B22]"Jenna what's going on? What are you doing?"[/colour] She dropped the officer’s form in favour of her regular human shape as she spoke. The shape her friend would recognize, and immediately realized the flaw in her idea. Whatever hope her presence had originally brought had drained from the two stranger's faces; the girl began to cry.

For her part, Jenna looked only intrigued. [colour=A0522D]"What are you?"[/colour] The question had been directed more at herself than Megan; who was too busy trying to balance her own emotions with the sudden torrent of terror and fear emanating from the hostages.

[colour=228B22]"You've got to tell me what's going on, I don’t want anyone to get hurt- I- Shit.”[/colour] People in Australia weren’t supposed to have guns. The attacks in Cairns didn’t hurt people. Jenna's stare broke for a moment as she looked passed Megan. The sirens had gotten close enough for human ears. 

[colour=A0522D]"Guess I'll see for myself."[/colour] In one motion, Jenna kicked the back of the young girl; who lurched forward and into Megan's open arms, breaking her fall before she hit pavement. When Megan looked up again, Jenna's face had broken into a smile that made her stomach flip. Jenna never smiled like that. Megan didn't notice she was now pointing the barrel at her own head until it was too late.

[colour=228B22]"N-"[/colour] Megan didn't even get to finish the syllable before she doubled over in pain, screaming.[/indent]