Three years later...

The monitors all over the office floor instantly were showing live coverage. The voices in the building died and everyone turned to the monitors. The monitors showed the remains of an old warehouse that had just exploded moments ago. Everyone found a seat and sat down as the new sunk in of the death count as of now. His secretary looked at him and then she closed the door to the office.

He walked over to the window and looked down below at the empty street. Then the anchor said something and he looked back at the monitor. They were showing a photo of what it looked like before the explosion. His blood iced over and he felt his muscles start to burn. Then he looked at Pete and found the man devoured by the report.

Without a word, he slipped out of the office and quickly made his way down to the lobby on first floor. As he opened the door, a car drove up and he saw the brunette hop out. She ran over to him and threw her arms around him. He knew she was scared, but he didn't care. He pushed her off and she looked up at him.

Her eyes were red with tears and she asked, "Adam?"

He stepped around her and headed down the sidewalk. His memory worked itself up a map and he made his way to the warehouse. When he stood outside the gate, he felt the pounding slip into place and he gripped the gate. His hand began to bleed and he forced control back into place. Then he took a deep breath and slipped through the guards and police.

His feet took him into the remains of the warehouse and he saw the medics running around helping others. He looked at each face of the wounded and found nothing. Then he saw a blocked room up ahead and he slipped through the crowd. Without a sound, he opened the doorway and stepped inside. The light couldn't reach the room, but he could smell the dying.

Movement caught his eye and he quietly pulled his gun out. His hand set the trigger without a second thought and he followed the movement. When it stopped, he slowly walked up to the person. He felt the person's self-hatred and self-disgust as if it were a volcano about to erupt. His stomach knotted in protest and he turned the person around.

When he looked at the hidden face, his eyes found theirs and the gun hit the floor. He forced himself to remain slightly in control and knelt in front of her. With the darkness as make-up he couldn't see the bruises, but he knew all too well that they were there. His hand slowly found itself brushing loose hair from her face and feeling something warm cover it. He looked down at his palm and saw the crimson red.

Then he looked up at her and said, "Sheila."

Her eyes became even more dead and she whispered, "Get out while you still can."

Then he lost her eyes and he felt her falling back onto slain next to them. He caught her before she touched the carcus and got to his feet. When he heard shouting approaching, he looked down at the woman in his arms and then he walked past the invading medics.

PGS