He means the shattered glass everywhere. I scoff and say, ‘I didn’t realise you were ugly and stupid.’
He doesn’t take this well. He snorts and grunts like a pig that’s been caged too long. ‘I know what you need, something to help you learn the art of socialising.’
Before I even get a chance to move my head, his mouth comes down on my throat. I feel his hot moist lips slither across my shoulder. I could vomit. Instead I opt to get physical. As he comes up for air I aim a punch right into his ugly face. It doesn’t connect though. I have to give him one thing, for such a big slobbering brute, his reflexes are quick. He covers my balled fist with the palm of his hand, closing his fat fingers easily around it. ‘Feisty,’ he mouths, licking his lips with his thick tongue. ‘And freaky. I like it. Take me home on your broomstick.’
Hannah’s teeth grind together at that comment. She tries to yank Pecs’s hand off my arm, letting fly with a couple of choice words; but he just brushes her aside, and with one hard shove, she finds herself on the cafe floor, sprawled on her rear.
Two things happen. Jarrod jumps up, tipping his chair over with rage; and a thundering vibration reverberates under our feet.
It has the incredible effect of bringing a sudden stillness into the chaos. Everyone goes quiet, listening, looking at each other, asking questions with their eyes. The vibrations spread to the walls, tables, curtains, light fittings. Soon everything is in motion.
Pecs drops my arm as fear descends. The thunderous rumble grows louder and everyone panics. They start screaming, thinking it’s an earthquake. There’s a mad rush for the door, which causes a jam. Hannah grabs my arm and starts yanking me after her. I can’t move though ’cause I have to find Jarrod. ‘You go, I’ll catch up. I have to see if Jarrod’s okay.’
‘He can look after himself, Kate. We gotta get out before the whole place collapses. This is an earthquake!’ Her big brown eyes grow unbelievably huge.
A large group of people shove us aside in their rush to the door, knocking us into a corner. The rumble grows more intense, making it difficult to stay standing. Everything appears to be moving. The floor especially is going up and down like ocean waves. And where the floor rises up, tables and chairs follow, and more crockery crashes to the ground.
‘Thank goodness, at last. There he is!’ Hannah points towards the centre of the room, yelling over the growing hysteria. Jarrod’s standing still, a vacant expression on his face, his eyes glassy. ‘Hurry up, Kate. Go get him!’
‘I will, Han. But you go home and I’ll call you later.’ I take off, losing her, before she has a chance to follow. For some reason I don’t want Hannah suspecting Jarrod of anything paranormal. She can handle it, of course, she’s used to Jillian and me. It’s just that Jarrod himself is oblivious. This whole situation needs careful handling.
When I get to him he’s alone, his friends long since deserting him. Well, what does he expect, they’re all dogs.
It’s like he’s in a trance. He doesn’t even move when I talk to him. Nothing I say has any effect. For a moment I don’t know what to do. A massive crystal chandelier comes crashing down where a great crack has opened in the ceiling. I shove Jarrod hard out of the way, landing on top of him. It does little to break the trance. But at least he’s moving now, slowly pulling himself upright.
Leading him, I find the back way out through the kitchen.
At last we’re into a back alley that’s amazingly still and quiet. Looking around I see nothing unusual in any of the other buildings, no vibrations, no cracking walls, no hysterically screaming people. I shake my head, promising to think about it all later, at home. Now, I have to get Jarrod to safety. If the others see him in this semi-catatonic state someone might just remember how he was in the science lab during the storm and start asking questions. Questions Jarrod can’t answer.
It might be the effect of the chilly air; whatever it is, Jarrod starts coming around. He’s still vague though, and exhausted. He can hardly walk. We have to keep stopping so he can re-focus and catch his breath. I slide my shoulder under his arm most of the way, especially the last uphill half a kilometre.
Eventually we arrive, out of breath but in one piece. Jillian helps me put Jarrod down on my bed upstairs. She has questions but she’s holding back until we get him settled. I appreciate this as I’m too tired to think. He looks completely out of it, his eyes, like magnetised weights, close immediately. His breath is unusually slow. I glance worriedly at Jillian, and flop on my dresser stool.
‘I’ll brew something to revitalise his senses. And while it’s working, you can explain what happened.’