I thought my crying would attract the others, but it kept them away from me, like they were allergic to the specific brand of emotion. It made searching through the theaters easier, but there were still dead bodies in almost every one, and the stench was insufferable.
When I finally found Derek in theater six, he was screaming a name. A woman’s name. His mother’s name.
I tried to push away the envy I felt over him looking for a dead woman instead of searching for me, but I assumed he’d been knocked in the head and had his memories scrambled.
“Are you okay?” I asked, looking at his suspiciously clean clothes, free of blood and guts. “What happened?”
He stopped running when he saw me. All of his features went slack. “Oh God, Abatha.”
So he did remember me.
He came close enough to grab my shoulders. He held them tight, tears outlining his green eyes. “I knew I fucked up,” he said. “I knew it. That’s why I stopped the elevator. I knew you’d be safer up there.”
“What?” I asked, anger already creeping into my voice.
He bit down on his puffy lip. “I edited the fine print on the cards. The loyalty cards. That Tyler and the others have been selling all day. I lied about commission to get them to actually do their jobs, because I wanted it to work.”
“Wanted what to work?”
