The man stops. His expression changes. He hears the sound too. He looks from me to Hilary and back again once more. His eyes are suddenly wide with shock and panic. What the hell's he got to be afraid of? He's the one who came in here and…
'I'm sorry,' he says quickly, taking a couple of steps back away from the desk. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…'
Realisation dawns.
His voice is now at a fraction of its previous volume. Hilary and I are stood there, just waiting for him to explode again. Instead he crumbles. He realises that we're scared and now he's the one who's frightened that we're going to react.
'I'm not one of them,' he says, pleading with us to believe him. He looks like he has tears in his eyes. 'Honest I'm not. The parking ticket made me mad and I just over-reacted, that's all. I'm not a Hater. I don't want to fight. I'm not going to hurt anyone…'
I still can't do anything. I'm frozen to the spot. This whole situation feels alien and bizarre. It's an uneasy standoff which ends as quickly as it began. The man seems to be about to say something else but he doesn't. Instead he turns and walks out of the building, still clutching his parking ticket.
15
Lunchtime.
It's a couple of hours later than I'd originally planned to take my break. It would have been more sensible and probably safer to stay in the office but I've had to come outside. I had another call from Lizzie. Her day trapped at home with the kids is getting worse. We need bread and milk but they're acting up and she can't face taking them anywhere. I said I'd get some while I was here. I was going to wait until after work but I'm glad I didn't. The supermarket shelves were almost empty. There won't be anything left tonight.
Without thinking I find myself back in Millennium Square again. It's still not as busy as it normally is but there are plenty of people here and…
What the hell was that?
I'm stood in the middle of the square by the fountain and everything has just gone crazy. Everyone drops to the ground and I do the same. There was a noise - a single loud crack like a gunshot. But it couldn't have been, could it? I slowly lift my head from the ground. People are starting to get up. Some are already running in all directions and it's impossible to see what's happened. Others like me remain unmoving, trying to work out what's going on and where the danger is. I have to move. I have to get out of here. I get up and start to run back in the direction of the office but it's difficult to get through with so many people suddenly zig-zagging all around me. I stop and crouch when I hear the sound again. It was a gunshot. It can't have been anything else.
Just to my left a group of people are screaming and yelling in panic. On the ground, right in the middle of them, is a body. I'm not close enough to see any detail but I can see that there's a quickly spreading puddle of blood around the top of the person's head. People start to move again, tripping and stepping over the corpse. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's over now. Maybe that's the body of the Hater lying dead on the ground and things will start to…
What now? People are running past me. Have they seen something that I haven't? I've got to get out of here before I get myself… too late - there's a third gunshot which comes from my left and which sends the crowd scattering in the opposite direction like frightened pigeons. I have to keep moving but my legs feel as heavy as lead. I'm disorientated. I look up at the buildings around the edges of the square, trying to get my bearings and work out which way to run. When I think I finally know which way to go I take a few quick steps forward, weave around another few frightened people, and then stop dead in my tracks.
The crowd has cleared ahead of me. No more than ten meters in front of me now stands a police officer, armed like those I saw here this morning. He's scanning the square, moving his head slowly from side to side. Now he's stopped and he's lifting his rifle again. Fuck, he's pointing it in my direction. Fucking hell, he's aiming at me! I look straight into his face and he stares back into mine. Do I drop to the ground again? Do I turn and run or…?
Fourth gunshot.
The officer fires and Jesus Christ, I can almost feel the shot whistle past the side of my face. I slowly look over my shoulder and see another body on the ground not far behind me, a bloody gaping hole in its face where its cheekbone used to be. Shaking, I turn and run. I'm going in the opposite direction from where I want to go but it doesn't matter. I just have to get out of here. What if it's me next? What if he's aiming for me now? Any second and I could hear the crack of the next shot and I could be down with a bullet in my back. I don't have a fucking chance. Just got to keep moving and hope that someone else gets between me and the gunman. Move faster. Move faster I keep telling myself. Keep running. Get yourself out of range. Keep going until…
Fifth shot.
Nothing. Didn't hit me.
Sixth, seventh and eighth shots in quick succession. They sounded like they came from a different direction this time? I glance back into the middle of the square.
The armed police officer is down. Another officer stands over him and unloads shots nine, ten and eleven into the twitching body of their former colleague.
I keep running. As I move a single devastating thought crosses my mind. Was that police officer a Hater? Christ, if there are people in the police force who are capable of this kind of cold-blooded, emotionless violence then what the hell are we supposed to do? The implications are vast and terrifying. Who's going to keep control? What the hell happens now?
I have to get home. Fuck work. Forget about the job. I change direction and run as fast as I can towards the station. I have to get back to Lizzie and the kids.
16
Thank God the trains are running today. It took hours to get home yesterday and I don't want to be out on the streets any longer than I have to be tonight. It only took a few minutes to get from the square to the station and I didn't have to wait long for a train. Christ knows what Tina's going to say to me tomorrow if I go back to work. I could call her from my mobile now and explain what's happened but I don't want to. I don't want to speak to anyone. I just want to get home.
There are just three carriages on this train. There can't be any more than twenty people on board. I've found myself a seat as far away from everyone else as possible. This is literally the last seat on the train, right at the very back of the third carriage. There are two other people in here with me. They're both nearer the front, one on either side of the aisle. I find myself trying to watch them constantly, scared that one of them might turn because as long as the train is moving I'm trapped in here with them. Now and then I see one of them look around. They're as anxious as I am. My stomach is churning and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I don't know whether it's the movement of the train or nerves that's making me feel sick.
We're pulling into the last station before home. Christ, I hope no-one gets on here. I've got my mobile phone in my hand and I have had since I got on. I want to call Lizzie and tell her I'm on my way back but I can't bring myself to do it. How stupid is that? I don't want to talk out loud because I don't want to attract any attention to myself. I don't want to do anything that's going to give the other passengers any reason to even look at me.
The train slows down and stops. I look out onto the platform (trying not to make it obvious that I'm staring) and watch as a handful of people shuffle quietly towards the train doors. One person from this carriage gets up and gets off and another passenger arrives. It's a man in a long grey trench coat with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. I do everything I can to avoid making eye contact with him but I have to keep watching. I have to see where he's going. Is he coming this way? Shit, he is. I quickly look down at the floor now, desperate not to let him know that I was watching. Is he still coming towards me? Is he getting closer?