Big Data: A Startup Thriller Novel

Chapter 2

I stood there in shock, watching the mob of men on the trading floor yelling and pushing against each other, trying to get away. I saw a small man with a long nose fall flat on the floor one moment, and the next he was trampled by a stampede of suits. Those on the outside of the crowd didn't seem to know what to do. For the most part, they stood still, blocking the exits of the people near the gunman.

But in the center of the crowd, space cleared as if it were Moses, parting the Red Sea. Alone in the middle of the mass of people, stood a tall black man holding a gun in one hand and something I couldn't make out in the other. Around his torso, he'd strapped a bomb. I could only guess that the object he held was a dead man's switch. If someone killed him, the bomb would go off instantly. But the man looked just as terrified as those trying to flee. He wasn't moving. Just holding his hands high in the air and screaming. I couldn't understand what he was saying; the room was filled with so much noise.

"Thor, let's go. Let's get out of here," I cried. But Thor was no longer at my side.

Henry grabbed my shoulder. But I couldn't make out his words in the sea of sound. I shouted into his ear.

"Where's Thor?"

Henry shook his head.

"Come on," I said. "We need to leave."

A group of makeup artists and cameramen peered around the curtain at the mayhem.

"Come on, people," I yelled. They seemed mesmerized.

I heard a loud pop. Then two more in quick succession. My feet started moving before my brain processed what was happening. The screams became frantic. Even after the shots had been fired, most people still weren't running. They were just watching the events unfold as if this were some reality TV show.

I ran for the exit and made my way into an empty concrete corridor. There I found Thor. He was on the phone, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I tried to get him to come with me, but he refused, looking angry and turning away. Somewhere along the way I had lost Henry. For a moment, I considered going back for him. But my instincts told me I needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

I dashed past two men in suits running in the opposite direction. I wondered if they were running toward from the action or away from it. I tried to ask them which way I needed to go in order to get out, but they didn't stop and soon disappeared around a corner.

The thick concrete walls blocked all but the most immediate of sounds. I heard only my own footsteps. I imagined people still screaming on the trading floor. I imagined more gunshots. Or did I actually hear them? I couldn't tell. I thought I knew where I was going, but the corridors all looked the same. I stopped and turned around.

Then I heard footsteps.

"Henry?"

No reply. The footsteps got louder.

"Henry, is that you?"

A man came around the corner, breathing heavily. He walked with a pronounced limp, and there was blood on his leg. He was young. Maybe nineteen or twenty. Just a kid.

"Luna?" he said. I recognized him. It was the shooter.

The kid was tall and lean. I didn't see a gun, but I tried to scream anyway. Nothing came out. I told my feet to run, but they wouldn't. I was paralyzed. My mind froze. All I could do was watch in terror as this young man approached me. He looked like he wanted something. He wanted me.

My legs sprung into action, and I was off. I whirled around and sprinted down the hallway. With his limp, I had a good chance of living if I could only keep these hallways straight. This maze of concrete would literally be the death of me.

I turned another corner and stopped to catch my breath. To listen. For a moment, I thought I was safe. Then I heard limping thuds. He was running faster than when I first heard him. I looked around. I was in a short corridor with a dead end on one side, and a long hallway on the other. I couldn't see what was at the end of the corridor.

I turned into the dead-end and ducked into the last doorway I could find. I tried the door. It was locked. I thought about running for the next one over, but before I could, there he was. Why was he following me? Why wasn't he trying to escape? How did he know my name? I held my breath and made myself as small as possible against the door. I heard no footsteps. He must have stopped.

"Luna, I need to talk to you."

His voice was thick with terror.

"This is not what it looks like."

I squeezed my eyes shut so hard they hurt. I kept telling myself I was invisible. I wasn't there. This wasn't happening. He would move on.

At last, he started running again. I didn't dare take a breath yet, but I thanked God and promised Him that I would go right back to church the moment this was over.

Then, my phone rang. The ringtone echoed through the empty hall. Immediately I started fumbling to turn it off. It was Thor. Fucking Thor. Of course. I managed to shut it off. But the gunman heard. He was coming back. Quickly.