Rebel (Legend, #4)(64)

June narrows her eyes at him and raises her voice at the crowd. “Police!” she shouts. “Get back, now!”

The authority in her voice is so militaristic that, at least for the moment, everyone listens. Beside her, Daniel shoves two people away from the entrance.

I turn back to Pressa. “You and your dad have to get out of here,” I say. “Leave the shop. Dominic Hann destroyed the Level system—it’s not coming back up anytime soon. This situation’s going to boil over.”

Pressa looks desperately to where her father is standing guard at the entrance. “There’s no way in hell we’re leaving,” she replies. “I can’t just let him stay behind, and he’s not going to give up on his entire life’s work.”

I grit my teeth and start pulling her with me. “Do you get how dangerous this is?” I urge her. “I’m talking about your lives here!”

She yanks herself out of my grip. Her eyes flash with anger and fear. “You think I’m stupid?” she snaps. “This is everything we have, Eden! Everything!”

“It’s a shop, Pressa—not your lives!”

“This shop is something that Dad has built all his life. It’s all that keeps us from being homeless. He’s not going to run, so I’m not going to leave his side.” She gives me a bitter glare. “Not that I expect a skyboy like you to understand.”

I release her arm, and she goes hurrying back to her father. Mr. Yu’s now pleading with the people who are trying to shove their way past him.

“Please!” he calls out. “I’ve known many of you for years!”

But the hunger and chaos is building to a breaking point. I see two men suddenly crash through one of the side windows. They stumble into the shop, then start dumping any and every herb and canister they can find into a bag. Others start stepping in.

I curse at the sight. Daniel’s struggling to keep the tide of people from entering through the broken side window, while June stands determined at the front entrance. I shove back a woman clawing her way through another open window.

Pressa shields her father, and together with Marren, they pull him back. Her father’s sobbing now—rivulets run down his face as he tries in vain to tell people to stop taking his medicines. “Please!” he calls over and over again, grabbing a passing sleeve and arm and pant leg whenever he can. “Stop! Please!”

This is going to go wrong. The thought amplifies until it becomes a scream in my head. My heartbeat speeds up until I think it’s going to explode. It’s the feeling of being tied down in a gurney in the seconds right before a soldier shoots my mother.

This is going to go very, very wrong.

I see it happen in slow motion.

A young, bone-thin man with hollow cheeks makes a beeline toward the shop’s entrance, trying to pass underneath Mr. Yu’s outstretched arms. He stumbles in his rush, falls, and hits his face hard against the edge of the doorframe. It cuts a deep gash across his cheeks.

Mr. Yu turns to him. I see a flash of worry cross his eyes—and instead of shoving the young man back out of the store, he bends down to help him.

“Steady,” Mr. Yu says to the young man on the ground as he clutches his face and moans. “That’s a nasty gash. I’ll help you bandage it—”

But the young man whirls on Mr. Yu in a blind fury. Pressa sees the glint in the air at the same time I do. She screams and grabs her father to yank him away, even as he holds the bandages in his hand. I open my mouth and lunge in their direction.

Neither of us reaches him in time. The young man’s knife plunges deep into her father’s stomach. Once. Twice.

Then I slam hard into the man and knock the knife from his hand. The weapon goes spinning to the floor as he and I both fall. Above me, Pressa grabs her father as he clutches his stomach, his watery eyes wide with shock.

The young man struggles with me. He’s surprisingly strong for his size, as if he were fighting for his life. Finally, I kick him off me hard enough to send him skidding against the wall. He hits his head and shakes it, dazed for a moment.

Daniel sees the commotion and rushes over, but it’s already too late. Pressa’s father drops to his knees in the middle of his floor as people stream all around him, running to grab everything from his shelves. Mr. Yu’s face has gone paper white, and he’s shaking uncontrollably. Between his fingers clutching his stomach seeps dark blood.

“Dad!” Pressa’s shouting at him as she helps him lean against the wall of his shop. She presses her hand against his leaking wounds too. Blood runs across her skin. “Dad!” She looks helplessly up at me. “Call an ambulance! Now!”

But without the Level system, there’s no way to make a proper call to anyone. I dash out into the street in an attempt to grab the nearest police officer I can see—but there are so many people in the streets, some shoving their way into other shops, others trying in vain to stop them. I run back in, bend down beside Mr. Yu, and strip off my thin jacket.

Mr. Yu’s eyes flutter weakly at me before they go to Pressa. His breaths come in irregular beats. He whispers something to her that sounds like he’s telling her to get out of here. She ignores him and keeps trying to stop the flow of blood.

I take Mr. Yu’s hand and hold it tight. Before either of us can do any more, his eyes fade, the light in them dimming to nothing. His trembling stops. One of his hands clutches the bandages that he’d been ready to use to help his killer. They’re stained red now.