Chapter 7 Collateral Damage

• Emily sprinted through the crowded market, her breath ragged, her heart thundering against her ribs. Blood smeared her face and hands—some her own, some not. The kitchen knife in her right hand dripped crimson, and the loaded handgun in her left felt impossibly heavy. People recoiled at her approach. Mothers clutched their children and darted behind stalls; men froze, their faces pale with terror. Whispers trailed behind her like ghosts.
• “Monster,” someone muttered.
• She barely noticed. Her focus was singular—a boy in her peripheral vision, the swirling tattoo of a Seer marking his eye. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment. His widened with fear before he bolted.