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«Whom?».

«That blond guy in vintage clothes. He is goth, probably,» Claire was not in this completely sure. Goth would dressed in black. Even antique goths will not fall into a blue brocade and white lace and will not paint the hair in a platinum hue.

«Do you see a guy not like others?»

Brad only shortly shook his head. He did not see. Claire only now understood. No one except for her saw him. But she saw him. And her eyes suddenly expanded from horror, because the beautiful face began to be instantly covered with burns and scars. Total instant and from him there was only a disheveled mask. Claire even screamed from indescribable horror. Only no one paid attention to this. Her cry was killed in the total hum of frightened votes and panic. At the beginning she did not even understand what was the matter. Only then she realized how she was lucky that she was not in the crowd, but a little bit alone. Some overlaps and huge signs at the cinema were collapsed. The number of victims was accurately calculated in the morning newspapers. A day passed, and they still could not count. Claire with horror recalled a thick crowd at dusk, but he knew that this accident would not be limited. The victims will be countless. They should not even think about them. It is worth thinking about the face she noticed in the crowd. That night, Clare saw a lot of terrible scenes and blood, but for some reason, instead of the crippled and dead people, it was stood before her eyes. As if the stranger was the center and the cause of the entire catastrophe.