Free Anathema by Lillian Bowman Page A

head off. He’s having trouble holding me as I twist, as I thrash, as I kick at anything I can, because he’s clearly never done this before. His grip breaks and I’m free.
    My legs launch me forward so fast, my shoulder crashes against the doorway. Muscles burn as I plunge into the lights of the lobby, and then weight crashes into me from behind, carpet burning a path across my knees and elbows.
    “CONRAD! AMANDA! HELP!” I don’t recognize my voice. “SOMEONE HELP, HELP!” And then his hand is sweaty over my mouth, his arms compressing, his weight pinning me down as he gropes at my throat.
    Then he’s compressing.
    My vision begins to go black.

CHAPTER TWELVE
     
    My head feels ready to burst, the world tunneling in. My thoughts blur, the wild urgency of fighting draining out of me…
    Abruptly the weight is wrenched off me.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” bellows a man’s voice.
    A protest. “She’s an anathema!”
    I stumble blindly to my feet, my hands flying to the bruised skin of my neck. It’s an older man with a paunch and thinning hair. He wears the same uniform as the janitor. He’s grasping the collar of my attacker.
    “Not at work, you’re not. There are mothers and young children around. They don’t come to the movies to see some girl killed,” my rescuer snaps.
    “I’ll take her outside.”
    The janitor reaches for me and I stifle a scream.
    His manager grabs his arm again. “Not a paying customer!”
    The janitor mumbles his excuses, bowing his head with the rebuke. His manager is fuming, his face beet red. Then he turns and looks at me, taking me in. My blotchy face, my hair askew, my clothes wrinkled.
    “You are a paying customer, aren’t you?” The manger gestures to me with a spindly hand. “Let me see your ticket stub.”
    Ticket stub? My mouth forms the words but no sound comes out. I feel I am choking. If it’s fallen out of my pocket during the scuffle, does that mean he’ll let the janitor take me outside to kill me?
    As though it has a will of its own, my rubbery hand delves into my pocket, finds the stub. My hand shakes furiously as I hold it up. The manager examines it critically. Once he’s verified that the anathema did not sneak into his movie theater, a look of regret creases his face.
    “My apologies for this incident, ma’am. We want all our customers to have a positive movie going experience.”
    He rips off a slip of paper from a pad in his pocket and hands it to me. It’s a gift certificate: a free drink with my next purchase of popcorn. When Amanda and Conrad emerge from the theater to check on why I’ve been gone for so long, they find me standing there in the middle of the garish lights of the lobby, too terrified to move. The paper has slipped from my hand and fallen to the floor.
    Conrad scoops it up. “Hey, free drink with a medium popcorn.”.
    “Are you blind as well as dumb?” Amanda snarls at him, then grabs me. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
    My body shaking all over. I keep rubbing the skin of my neck. Amanda pushes my hands aside and winces. I must be bruised.
    “What happened?” she says again. “Who attacked you?”
    All I can think of is that janitor looking at his phone, and then at me. I think of what he said, “It’s too much money. I really need it.”
    It’s too much money…
    Too much money…
      It floats up into my mind, the sudden suspicion.
    “Amanda, get out your phone.” My voice sounds hoarse and strange to my ears.
    “Wait, someone went after you here?” Conrad demands, drawing closer to me. “Who?”
    “Get out your phone and ID me on it,” I tell Amanda.
    Confused, Amanda pulls open her cell phone. She glances at the screen. “It says you’re an anathema, but…” Her mouth drops into a round ‘o’, her eyes going wide.
    “What?” I demand. I snatch it from her, twist the screen around to look at it.
    My face is there. Anathema identified, is there. My bounty is listed as…
    As five