Maybe because he did not enter through the front door this time, or maybe because of the mysterious blackout going on, but the clubhouse lobby looked completely different the second time around.
Serena escorted him into the large room, her touch soft, her steps slow. Their footfalls echoed in the lobby even with the thick carpet under their feet. No more calming melody played in the background, a stark contrast to earlier that evening. But there were still plenty of people gathered around, too many that it appeared as if no one had left for the evening.
Instead of the din of a lively crowd, hushed whispers now filled the void. Gone was the warm and welcoming ambiance. The cold from the outside had long seeped in. Silhouettes substituted for the furniture in the lounging area, and oppressive shadows lurked in every nook and cranny. Aside from the scented candle Serena was holding, the only other source of light was the red glow from the sky outside, faintly illuminating the front half of the lobby in a bloody light.
“Why are there so many crowded in here?” he asked in a low voice. “Did no one else bother to leave?”
“Oh, they tried,” Serena whispered back. “A few even rushed outside right after hearing our crash earlier. I only had a short time to explain to them what happened. You can guess how that went,” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching.
“Not well?”
“I tried convincing them to stay inside,” Serena said. “Warned them it might still be dangerous to stay out in the open. It was no use getting to their vehicles anyway.” She paused, pursing her lips. “No one believed me at first.”
Among the throng of people they passed by, Russell spied a familiar figure in the dark. The short hair and the plain pair of glasses that framed Harper’s delicate face immediately caught his attention. But seeing her in the embrace of an old woman caught him off guard.
It was an odd sight to see Harper looking small and fragile. She had always been a strong woman in his eyes, confident and self-assured. Her earlier entrance at their reunion only reinforced his image of her. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
The eyes of the old woman found him, and she gave him a motherly smile from afar. That smile…He knew her. Somehow. Another familiar face he must have forgotten as the years had passed.
“What happened then?” he asked Serena, wondering if he should return the woman’s smile.
“Most of the ones who refused to listen were the ones who had parked closer to the entrance,” Serena said. “They headed straight for their cars without a care.”
His gaze snapped back to Serena. “And? Did they make it? Did anyone make it back to town?”
Serena shook her head.
“Oh,” he muttered. “Were there any more…ugh, casualties?”
“Other than the scream we heard? Fortunately, none. No other incidents,” she said. “As for those who went out even after hearing my warnings, all of them returned with the same result—not a single one got their cars to start.”
He grunted. “We already expected it, but still…”
“More people listened to me then,” Serena said. “Suddenly, everyone thought that perhaps they should listen to me. To stay inside. To wait and see.” She gestured around them. “So here we are.”
Russell spotted Bradford next. Even though the seats on the two-seater sofa were unoccupied, their resident douchebag had chosen to lounge on one of its arms, yawning in boredom—or at least trying to look bored.
Tommy, on the other hand, looked worse for wear standing behind Bradford. Even in the scant lighting, the bully’s eyes were filled with fury as he tracked Russell and Serena’s passage. Courtney stayed by her husband’s side, her lips pressed in a thin line as she, too, stared daggers at Russell. It didn’t take a psychic to guess what was going through the couple’s minds.
Russell scoffed, looking elsewhre. What a match made in heaven.
Rook sat far away from Bradford, and the team captains ended up on opposite ends of the cluster of seats the jocks had appropriated. Unlike before, the tall yet thin form of Jude was now among the team’s second and third-stringers, and they hung out behind the starters in watchful silence. Compared to the rest who didn’t shy away from meeting Russell’s gaze, his fellow wide receiver wouldn't even look in their direction.
From the looks of it, the only thing Jude had earned for selling him out was a meager few minutes of fame. A part of Russell had been wanting to ask the guy if it was all worth it. The answer was already obvious.
Russell surveyed the remainder of the room as they walked. The jocks mingled together, most of the other alumni sat a few tables away in their respective groups, and the other club members had lumped themselves together, hanging further back—and everyone waited in silence.
The quiet air in the lobby was deafening, but the lingering stares of the people he passed by were even worse.
Great. The whole circus is here.
Serena guided him to the middle of the lobby, stopping underneath the grand chandelier now obscured in darkness. Approaching an occupied armchair, she left the candle on the end table next to the seat before greeting the woman sitting there with a smile and a hug.
The other woman looked to be a few years older than they were, somewhere in her early thirties, a shawl wrapped over her loose sundress. She rubbed her hands on her large stomach, returning Serena’s smile before giving him one as well.
He dipped his head before casting his gaze around the lobby. They were at the center of everyone’s attention, and it was far from being a pleasant experience.
Tension returned to his shoulders like two heavy sacks of cement. His head throbbed, and his eyes lost focus, forcing him to blink a few times to clear his vision. He had expected the football players to give him the stink eye, but as he scanned the faces around him, the rest didn’t regard him with kind looks either. He had a bad feeling something was off.
"What's wrong?" he asked Serena, but his voice ended up echoing in the abnormal silence.
“Oh, sweet Jesus!” Bradford groused. “Can you believe this guy? He actually has the audacity to ask us what’s wrong.“
Serena's grip tightened on Russell’s arm. "Brad. Don’t.“
“No, Serena. This piece of scum needs to know.” Bradford slid his butt off the sofa's arm and hopped to his feet. “You trying to be funny, Flynn? Or are you seriously asking that question after the stunt you pulled outside?”
The rest of the football team rose from their seats as well, their eyes fixated on Russell.
“Stunt?” Russell scrunched his brows. “That was no stunt. I was only trying to save you and Harper from—”
“Save us? Save us?” Bradford asked, incredulity seeping into his voice. “You must be mistaken, because from where I was standing earlier, it looked like you were trying to kill us!”
Russell’s eyes widened. “What? No! That's not what happened.”
“Deny it all you want, but everyone here heard the crash,” Bradford said. “I don't know what's gotten into that empty head of yours, Flynn, but not only did you nearly hurt me with that thoughtless prank of yours, you even placed Harp in danger.”
“But I wasn't—"
“You know what? Let me rephrase that,” Bradford continued, raising his voice. “You’ve put plenty of lives at risk, you jackass! Harp’s, Serena’s, even those who were inside the lobby at that time.”
Russell shook his head in denial, at a loss for words.
“And for your information”—Bradford pointed his chin at the woman sitting next to Serena—“one of those you almost hurt happens to be pregnant.”
“But I…I didn’t…” Russell turned to the obviously pregnant woman, to Serena, then back to the pregnant woman. Did that really happen? Had he been so focused on stopping the monster he had failed to notice everyone else who had been put in danger?
“It’s fine,” the pregnant woman told Bradford, her voice high and chipper. She patted her stomach as she gave Russell a wry smile. “We were still inside when it happened, completely safe. I'm sure it was merely an accident.”
“No, it isn’t fine, Mrs. Stevens.” Bradford made his way toward them, his buddies trailing behind. “People need to know what happened. Even if he’s an old friend of mine, this guy can’t just walk away from this with a mere slap on the wrist. Crimes need to be punished. Flynn here needs to pay for what he’s done.”
“I…” Russell shook his head again. Taking a good look at the woman, shame weighed heavy on his shoulders. “I'm sorry, ma'am. Truly, I am. I didn't—"
“Didn't what, exactly?” Bradford asked.
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“Brad!” Serena spoke out. “Just let him speak.”
“Didn't what, Flynn?” Bradford pressed on. “Didn't see her or any of the others while you were doing sixty inside a parking lot? Didn't mean to put your own passenger's life in danger when you were trying to get back at me? Didn't mean to hurt Harper or any other innocent people when you found a chance to get your revenge? What?"
“But I didn't mean for any of those things to happen!” Russell snapped. “I was just trying to save your lives out there! That’s it!” Raising his voice was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was like trying to outtalk a goddamn mirror.
“Again with that nonsense?” Bradford stepped squarely in front of him. “You still don’t get it, do you, Flynn? You weren't trying to save anyone, you delusional fool! You were trying to get back at me!” he snarled and shoved Russell hard on the shoulder.
Serena—still holding onto Russell—gasped as they both reeled a few steps back.
People around them muttered among themselves. Even some who were watching farther away left their seats, shocked by how fast the confrontation had deteriorated.
Russell shot Bradford a glare before gently pushing Serena’s hand away from his arm. “Look,” he said, raising his hands high in a peaceful gesture, “why don’t we all just calm down for a second. I’m simply trying to explain myself here, okay?”
Bradford scoffed. “There’s nothing left to explain. Just own up to your mistake like a man and be done with it.”
Many in the crowd nodded in agreement. Curious people ask if Russell was the same person who crashed the truck outside. A few even questioned his sobriety. As if on cue, the jeering from the football team began, and the heckling from the other alumni followed.
Russell pressed his lips tight, forced to endure in silence. Why were these people even here if they weren't going to give him a chance to explain?
Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and he found Clayton standing beside him, giving him a wink. “Yo!” His friend shouted as he faced the crowd. “I would like to kindly ask everyone right now to please…shut the fuck up!”
“Knox?” Bradford asked. “What do you think you're doing? You weren't even there!”
“I may not have been outside to witness your lover's spat, Collins,” Clayton said, “but at least I'm not the one here making stuff up and pulling accusations from my ass without proof!” He got right into Bradford’s face and returned the shove the douchebag had given Russell twofold.
Bradford stumbled back, and he would have fallen over a low glass table if not for Tommy catching him in time.
Their old teammates threw out shouts and curses at Clayton, but he didn't look like he cared one bit. He gave Bradford and his buddies a placid stare before shifting his attention to the rest of the crowd around them. “My guy’s already been through some heavy shit,” he said in a loud voice. “Now, do you wanna continue making asses of yourselves, or do you people wanna hear the truth?”
His shout must have gotten to many in the audience as the noise died down after a while. Even Bradford had chosen to remain silent.
“Good,” Clayton said. “Now why don’t y’all quiet down, listen closely, and let the man tell his story.”
“Clay?” Russell whispered. “Why are you here?”
Clayton turned to face him and blinked, seeming to remember something important. He stepped aside, revealing a stunning woman standing on his other side. “Oh, this is Autumn by the way.”
Russell caught himself staring at Clayton’s companion before he turned his wide eyes to his friend, his eyebrow raised.
Clayton cleared his throat. “Autumn, meet my friend Russell. Russ, Autumn,” he said by way of introduction. “And you already met our hostess, right?”
“Hey,” Serena stepped forward to Russell’s side. “Good to see you again.”
Autumn gave her fellow woman a once-over, and she returned Serena’s smile with a faint smirk before turning her gaze back to Russell.
“Pleasure,” Autumn said in a sultry voice as she offered her hand.
“This is the dude I was talking to you about earlier,” Clayton said, clapping Russell’s shoulder. “Hella fun to be around. But always seems to attract all kinds of trouble.”
Russell shook her slender hand, her fingers soft and smooth to his touch. He wanted to say the pleasure was all his, but he found himself tongue-tied for the moment.
Clayton whispered something into Autumn’s ear, and she rolled her eyes at him. Without another word, she spun around and left, her tight red dress hugging the generous curves of her figure as she sashayed her way into the crowd,
Looking at everyone else’s reaction, Russell realized he wasn’t the only one to have been struck silly by her presence. He gave his friend a sideways glance. “You never said you came with someone tonight…”
“I never said I didn’t,” Clayton said.
Russell shook his head, clearing his mind from the momentary distraction. “Seriously, Clay, what are you doing here?”
“I heard what happened.” Clayton fixed the lapels of his cardigan, trying to appear nonchalant as he stared down at the jocks itching for a fight.
“Serena told you?” Russell asked.
“Yep.”
“And?”
Clayton shrugged. “And I believe you."
And that was that.
Russell arched an eyebrow at Serena, and she gave him a silent nod. He scanned their immediate area as former teammates, classmates, and even a few unrelated club patrons formed a tight circle around them. The amount of attention would have been overwhelmed by now. But among this crowd of strangers, the unwavering trust of two people was more than enough to give him the confidence he needed, and the sincerity behind their company lifted his spirits.
Without wasting any more of their time, he told everyone his account. He recounted the events that happened, relaying what he and Serena had been through to the best of his meager ability. She helped with the parts he had overlooked, filling in the gaps as he retold the story step by step. He expected someone would have cut him off at some point—Bradford being his first guess—but his audience had chosen to remain silent for once, and everyone heard him out until the end.
Someone in the crowd let out a loud groan, and Russell wasn't surprised to discover it came from Bradford. How predictable.
“Is that it, then?” the douchebag asked “Should I be thanking you for wasting our time? Again?”
“The hell are you tryna say now, Collins?” Clayton asked.
Bradford sighed in exasperation. “Did you not listen to your BFF’s story? It was the same thing what Serena already recounted earlier.”
“Of course, it’s the same thing,” Russell said. “Serena and I were both there.”
“Yes, yes,” Bradford said, rolling his eyes. “You both saw this, you both heard that. A monster did this, a monster did that. Add Mr. Morgan’s gruesome death into the mix, and you basically end up having a whole bunch of nonsense in your hands.”
Russell’s jaw tightened. “Nonsense?” he asked. “Doesn’t the fact that we recounted the exact same story tell you that neither of us could've been lying about it? That we freakin’ told you what happened to us because it actually happened?”
Standing behind Bradford, Caleb let out a loud scoff. “Or maybe you guys simply rehearsed it,” the former running back said. “You were stuck together in some room back there for an awfully long time, and it got some of the guys talking.”
“So what are you trying to say?” Russell asked Caleb. “You accusing Serena of lying? Or are you looking to accuse her of something else?”
“Huh?” Caleb’s mouth fell open, his eyes going just as wide. “No, I…” He looked around him for help, but even his teammates shot their witless running back disdainful looks.
Russell grunted before turning his attention back to Bradford. “Look, there’s no trick here. I get that I've put people’s lives in danger. I know that what I'm telling you—what Serena and I have been trying hard to tell you—probably sounds insane. But why would we even lie about something like this?”
Bradford snorted, remaining unconvinced.
Sudden light danced across Russell’s vision, and his head pulsed with a dull ache. He drew in a deep breath, reminding himself to remain calm. “Too many weird incidents have occurred tonight,” he said, eyeing the ones still listening to him with rapt attention. “What happened to the power? Our phones? Our dead cars out front? Even the sky outside. None of this is a coincidence, everyone. It's all connected. Something is going on here, something big, and we better prepare ourselves for the worst.”
People turned to one another, pondering his words. He knew they could also tell something wasn’t right. They would be stupid not to notice. He could only hope they understood how terrifying what he and Serena had been through—and the possibility of more unknown dangers waiting for them outside.
“I think you’re absolutely right, Flynn,” Bradford said with a slow nod. “It’s all connected for sure.”
“Wow,” Clayton said. “Am I hearing things correctly, or did you just agree with my boy just now?”
It was also the last thing Russell expected from Bradford. And given the expressions of those around them, everyone else appeared to be equally surprised.
Bradford shrugged as if it had meant nothing to him. “I did. And you know what? All of what he mentioned could be explained.”
His statement elicited murmurs from the crowd.
“The lights in the sky could just be as simple as a change in the weather,” Bradford said. “Some kind of rare occurrence. Some kind of natural coincidence.” His eyes swept the enraptured audience. “The blackout and all the dead electronics could even be connected to that. An electromagnetic storm, perhaps. Or possibly an explosion at the nearby power plant. Either one could’ve fried the delicate electronics in our devices. Either one is possible. Plausible.”
People muttered their assent, nodding with his every word. Russell had to admit that what Bradford was saying sounded logical, even believable.
“Could be, could be…” Bradford crossed his arms as he kept bobbing his head. “Still, it’s hard to conclude anything without substantial proof, am I right?”
Again, many in the crowd nodded. Some wondered out loud when the power would be back on, asking those around them as if the things that happened tonight were nothing out of the ordinary.
Bradford ignored the questions and faced Russell for the first time since he began his speech. “But a monster, Flynn?” The douchebag scoffed. “Seriously?”
“It’s true,” Russell said. “I’m not kidding around.”
Bradford snapped his fingers. “Don’t you people see? That’s the wild card in all this, isn’t it? The joker in the deck? The one variable in Flynn’s story that remains utterly inexplicable—well, at least to anyone here with a modicum of common sense.”
Russell narrowed his eyes. “I said it’s—”
“It’s just a lie, isn’t it?” Bradford continued. “A blatant lie that simply doesn’t add up to the rest. A lie to cover up your so-called car accident.”
“I’m not covering up for anything,” Russell said.
“And if Mr. Morgan is truly somehow dead,” Bradford went on, his expression turning grave, “then it explains why you’ve been acting a little suspicious since the beginning. Because you may have been lying to cover up for something much, much worse…”
Again, people bobbed their heads in agreement, even more now than a moment ago. Russell clenched his fists, knowing he was losing them. People would rather listen to a simple explanation compared to his far-fetched account. Putting aside his claim of a monster sighting, it was easier to believe that what happened tonight was all a simple coincidence. That nothing was wrong. That Russell Flynn, the town outcast, was simply trying to deceive them.
But he had lived through it. He had survived to tell the tale. He had been telling the truth, and he refused to be called a liar.
“We’re not trying to fool anybody, Collins,” he said through gritted teeth. “I haven’t lied about anything.”
“My man’s right,” Clayton said. “Stop playing around, douchebag. You’re only jumping to conclusions.”
Bradford sneered. “I wouldn’t have to if there was even a shred of truth to any of the nonsense Flynn has been spouting.”
“But the proof is right there!” Russell shouted, jamming a finger in the direction of the lobby entrance. “The monster's corpse is right there! Right outside those glass doors! Sitting right in front of my damn truck! How can you guys possibly refuse to believe what I’ve been trying to say when you've seen the damn thing?!”
Bradford’s eyes grew wide at his outburst, and he simply stared back in silence. The others behind Bradford exchanged confused looks. At the back of the crowd, newcomers threw out questions about the monster being mentioned, asking what everyone was talking about.
What the hell was wrong with these people? Why was everyone—
Serena tugged at his sleeve, catching his attention. “That was what I was trying to tell you earlier, Russ.” She pushed his hand back down to his side and let out a dejected sigh, her wan complexion ominous.
“What are you talking about?“ he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“The monster we hit?” Serena said. “It isn't there anymore.”