We push our way toward the stairwell while people fling frantic questions at our backs. What happened? Who did this? Is anyone hurt? I don’t have any answers for them, but since Logan looks like he’s about to pass out, and Quinn would rather eat dirt than speak up when a crowd is watching him, it’s up to me to respond. Quinn dabs his finger in the blood of an X marking the door closest to the end of the hall and then rubs his finger and thumb together. “Is it human blood?” I ask. He shrugs. “I can’t tell.” He gazes down the long corridor. “But this took a lot of blood. Unless whoever did this bled someone dry, my guess is he caught a few rabbits in the Wasteland and drained them.” The people around us keep calling out questions and dire predictions. I have to put a stop to it so we can check on the guards and then get out of the city before the army arrives. Raising my voice to be heard above the commotion around me, I say, “We aren’t sure what happened, yet, but—”
