Leviathan took a step forward, putting me behind him and just to his right. He lashed his tail again. Another dozen or two dozen civilians slain.
He’s cutting through them like they’re made of whipped cream.
Mr. Gladly’s girlfriend was screaming, burying her face in his shoulder. Mr. Gladly stared up at Leviathan, wide eyed, his lips pressed together in a line, oddly red faced.
Leviathan: “NO ONE’S GONNA DO IT IF IT’S OPTIONAL”
I didn’t care. I should feel bad my teacher was about to die, but all I could think about was how he’d ignored me when Emma and the others had had me cornered.
Oof, harsh.
I still don’t think Mr. Gladly was necessarily as in the wrong in that situation as Taylor thinks. Taylor had just gotten done telling him how much she didn’t want his help. He may have simply decided to respect that. It wasn’t a really good decision as a teacher, but still, I don’t think it was as malicious or uncaring as Taylor makes it out to have been.
One hand on my shoulder to steady my throbbing broken arm, I slipped behind Leviathan, hugging the wall, slipping around the corner and moving up the vault door with padded feet.
There’s really not much Taylor can do here. Besides the armor, she’s pretty much like the civilians here.
This is all about survival, it seems.
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