Chapter Fourteen
“Help!” My scream wasn’t loud enough. Wasn’t panicked enough. “Help! I need help! Please!”
I knelt beside Strand, trying to think through what a kep would do. I reached toward him.
“Don’t touch his hand,” Walsh whispered as voices and footsteps came toward us. “Just in case.”
“What’s going on back here?” someone called.
I ignored the question.
“Mr. Strand?” I shook his shoulder. “Mr. Strand, wake up! Mr. Strand?”
“I don’t think he has a pulse.” Walsh pressed on Strand’s wrist.
Of course he doesn’t. You killed him.
I shot Walsh a glare and patted Mr. Strand on the cheek. “Mr. Strand? I don’t think he’s breathing.”
“Good god.” Someone grabbed me under the arms, lifting me away from Strand like I was a little kid creeping too close to danger. “We’re going to need me
