B0160A5OPY (A) (21 page)

37

Luke

I’ve got to talk to her. I’ve got to just bite the bullet and tell the truth, because I’m not being fair. Not to her and not to me, either.

It’s just hard to find the right moment. And the right words.

With mom and dad, the truth just came spilling out. I was too angry to care about whether I was hurting them. And it turned out well.

But with her I need to go easy. You need to be gentle when you end someone’s hope.

I’ll do it today.

38

First instinct

For the rest of the day, the whole faculty is on the prowl in classrooms and hallways, confiscating the printed copies of the “Most Likely To” list whenever they see one. It’s too little, too late. By our last lesson of the day – English with Perkel – everyone has read the list and there’s a whole lot of teasing going on.

“Hey, Sloane, need the number of a plastic surgeon?” Juliet says to me as we enter Perkel’s room. She is still hanging on Luke’s arm.

“No thanks. Not if he’s the one who worked on your face,” I say.

Next to her, Luke’s lip twitches, but I can’t tell if it’s in amusement or disapproval.

I take my usual seat up against the hallway wall, and then take up my usual slouch, face in hand, elbow on desk, eyes on the back of Luke’s head, fixated on the spot where his thick, short hair twists into a pointed V at the top of his neck. I remember touching that spot when we kissed. Then I remember my promise to Sienna and force myself to wrench my gaze away from him. I make myself stare instead at the radiator pipe which climbs up the wall beside my desk. Someone, probably Keith, has drawn a cartoon panel on the pipe and I try to make it out, but two of the picture blocks are obscured by a wad of gum.

The science students are late arriving for class. They have either spent the last hour experimenting with sulphur or eating egg-salad sandwiches, because they’ve brought a revolting stench into the room with them. Perkel makes a production of opening the large window beside his desk to let in the fresh air, muttering something about noxious odors which “hover through the fog and filthy air.”

“And where is Mr. Hamel?” he asks the class, gesturing to L.J.’s empty seat. I realize I haven’t seen L.J. since the cafeteria at lunch-time.

“I think he’s, like, gone home,” Juliet volunteers.

She has swapped seats with Ben and now sits in the desk just to the left of Luke from where she casts him lash-fluttering looks and endless coy smiles while she twirls her pony-tail. It’s enough to make me sick and I wonder that it doesn’t grate on him. Could he really have fallen for someone so different from me?

“Oh dear. Well, we shall just have to endure our disappointment and forge on without L.J.’s sparkling wit and brilliant contribution to our classwork,” Perkel says snidely.

I don’t laugh and neither does Luke, but we are in the minority. I wonder if Perkel can guess why L.J. is skipping, and if he has read his own entry on the list. If he has, he’s not letting any reaction show.

“Please take out your copies of
Atonement
. I want us to analyze, in some detail, a passage on page 107.” He parks his butt on the edge of his desk and gazes out the open window as we rifle through our books.

As he says the last words, there’s a series of sounds which comes from somewhere in the school behind us. Two loud
thmps
, a pause, and then two more. And though I don’t think I’ve ever heard them in real life before, I know exactly what they are. Gunshots.

This classroom is at the back of the school and borders the fields. The shots sounded like they came from behind us, from somewhere near the front of the school.

My head whips around. I scramble on top of my desk and stand on my toes to peer through the small, high window into the hallway. It’s empty. Immediately, I look back over my shoulder at Luke. It’s an automatic reflex and I can’t deny the urge, no matter what I promised Sienna. His head is just turning back from the direction of the shots, turning towards Juliet.

“You okay?” he asks. Her.

“What
was
that?” she says.

“Get down. Get in there,” he says and pushes her behind the desk and in the direction of the large open cabinet in which Perkel stores his books and stationery.

As I see this, as I see that Luke’s first instinctive reaction is toward Juliet, even while mine is towards him, a pain shoots through my chest. I can actually feel my heart hurting, aching from this last blow. I close my eyes and breathe out slowly. It’s over. Finally, I get it. I need to let go of the hope that I never knew, until this moment, I was still clinging to. It’s over. If Juliet is the one he automatically checks on when there’s danger, then it must be Juliet that he cares about. I have to let go of this thing. I have to find a way to disconnect from him, and from the hope that things can ever be different.

Juliet crawls into the cabinet, and tugs the door behind her. It doesn’t close all the way, but she’s well-hidden.

Mere seconds have passed since the shots sounded, but everything is different.

I jump in my seat when the alarm rings. It’s the shrill bell used as a signal for fire or lockdown drills. But I’m guessing this isn’t a drill.

39

Code Red

The alarm echoes stridently through the hallways and a voice calls, “Code red, code red!” over the intercom. It’s the signal for a total lockdown, but it stuns Mr. Perkel into immobility; he simply stands and stares at us.

I get down on the floor, crouch under my desk, and look worriedly around. Everyone else is doing the same thing and speaking in urgent whispers to each other. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do next. There hasn’t been a drill since I started at the school. I guess we just wait until we’re given the all-clear. Surely Perkel should know what to do, but he’s still standing frozen by the window at his desk. After a minute he pats at his pants and jacket pockets as though searching for something – the key to the classroom door?

“Mr. Perkel,” I call, rising into a half-crouch and waving at him. Even I can’t hear my voice above the racket. “Mr. Perkel, you need to get under the desk. It’s a lockdown,” I shout loudly.

He shakes himself, then goes down on his knees and lifts the tablecloth draped over his desk to crawl under it, but there’s a panel fitted to the front of the desk blocking him. At that moment, the door is flung open hard. It bangs against the wall with a sharp crack and someone comes into the classroom.

It’s L.J. He’s wearing a camouflage-patterned hunter’s vest over his plaid shirt. Pointed brass bullets are stuffed into an ammunition belt slung diagonally across his chest, one end of a pair of handcuffs dangles from a vest pocket, and he is carrying a rifle. It has a long black metal barrel and trigger, a wooden stock, and a metal bolt sticking out from the side. He kicks the door closed behind him and trains the rifle in a moving arc over the class.

There are some gasps and a few whimpers, but nobody makes a move. The girl who sits in front of me is hunched over her knees, rocking and whispering a prayer. A few desks away, Ben is crouched down low. His face is gray, and a tic twitches the corner of his eye. I’m panting as though I’ve just run a mile, and I feel both cold and sweaty.

“Now, L.J …” That’s Perkel talking.

I crane my neck to see him rising to stand from where he was half-hidden by the desk tablecloth. L.J. swivels to face Perkel.

“Ah, just the person I’ve been looking for,” L.J. says. There’s a deadness in his voice, but his face is alive with loathing and aggression.

Perkel takes one look at L.J.’s face and begins scrambling out of the window.

“Don’t go yet – I’ve got something for you, Perkel!”

Moving swiftly, L.J. lifts the rifle to his shoulder, steadies the barrel against his jaw, takes aim, and pulls the trigger as Perkel launches himself through the gap. There is a deafening boom as the rifle kicks back into L.J.’s shoulder and bucks up in his hands. The shot hits the window and shatters the glass into a thousand, thousand flying fragments. I crouch over my knees on the floor, flashes of other booms and glass fragments streaking across my mind.

L.J. curses. He lumbers over to the window and peers out and down.

“Coward! Bastard zombie!” he shouts. “Look at him run, the coward.”

He slides the bolt to load another round and fires off another shot. Curses, then laughs. It’s a high-pitched, manic sound and it makes me want to throw up, run away screaming, curl up into a ball. Instead, I look at Luke. He’s also crouched on the floor and looking at me. I don’t see Juliet. She must still be hiding in the cabinet. There are screams and moans, but I can’t make a sound, can’t seem to breathe.

“Shut up, shut up!” shouts L.J. over the ringing alarm. “Get out of here, all of you!”

I lift my head above the top of my desk. L.J. is waving the rifle from the class to the door.

“Just get out. Go!”

Desks and chairs are knocked over as my classmates scramble for the door, pushing and shoving to get out and run for the nearest exit – via the cafeteria. I’m at the back of the throng, and Luke is not in front of me. I turn. He is standing beside his desk. A long moment hangs between us.

“Juliet,” I mouth the word.

He nods – he hasn’t forgotten her – and heads to the cabinet at the back of the classroom.

“Where do
you
think you’re going?” L.J. asks Luke.

“I’m just –”

“Just nothing. Get out!”

Luke takes an uncertain step, but then L.J. speaks again.

“No, wait – stay where you are. I’ve changed my mind.”

“What?” I say from where I stand, alone now, at the door. “No!”

“You still there? Well come back in, Sloane, two hostages are better than one.”

“Sloane – just go. Go!” urges Luke. “L.J., let’s talk.”

L.J. points the rifle at Luke, who is walking toward him.

“Back up, Naughton, or you’ll lose your pretty face.”

Luke stops, holds his hands out from his side, palms-down. I swallow. My mouth is dry.

“Get to the back of the room, both of you,” L.J. says, waving Luke and me to the back inside corner where my desk is.

We take slow, deliberate steps backwards, keeping our gaze on L.J. The alarm stops wailing and the sudden silence reverberates loudly in my ringing ears. Still pointing the weapon at us, L.J. slides the bolt at the side of the rifle back and up with a cold click. The spent cartridge flies up into the air and lands pinging on the floor, spinning on its brass end. L.J. extracts a handful of the slender bullets from the ammo belt across his hunter’s vest and slides them into the chamber at the top of the rifle.

40

Luke

I need to get her out of here. I need to keep her safe.

L.J.’s going to blow. It’s coming soon, I can see it in his eyes. He’s not done shooting yet, and there are only three of us left in the classroom.

Juliet’s in the cupboard. If she just stays completely still and quiet, she’ll be okay. Sloane and I are side-by-side in the corner, watching L.J.

He moves along the board on the front wall of the classroom to the shattered windows that look out over the fields. With his back to the wall pillar, he quickly brings his head forward and cranes around to look out of the window. At first I think he’s checking to see if he can try again to get Perkel, but then I register the wail of approaching sirens and realize he’s checking for cops. Of course – someone must have called the police and soon this place will be swarming with SWAT teams and expert snipers and skilled negotiators. At least, I hope it will.

Because she’s got to be safe.

40

Hostage

Thank God the rest of the class got out in time. I think – I hope! – that Sienna is safe, probably still on lockdown, but I wish Luke was too. And Juliet, I guess.

Luke and I are standing beside my desk, under the poster of Byron, in the corner between the back and hallway walls. If I reached out my fingers just a few inches, I could hold his hand and I wouldn’t feel so completely alone. Instead, I press my palms against my jeans.

L.J. crouches down and passes the windows quickly on his way over to where we are. He notices the door of the book cabinet is ajar and gives it a kick. There is a squeal from inside.

“Get out!”

The door doesn’t move.

With the rifle still trained on Luke and me, L.J. edges the door open with a foot to reveal Juliet crouched down below the lowest shelf, sobbing noiselessly. Her face is a circle of tight, white panic. He grabs her by her ponytail and jerks her out. She falls onto her knees and he drags her along to the corner, then shoves her backwards. Luke catches her in his arms. I wrap my own around myself, as if they could protect me. The three of us huddle in the corner, facing L.J.

“So …” L.J. pops his lips together a few times. “I missed out on my chance to rid the world of that zombie waste of space. Guess I get an F for effing revenge. At least I got Tyrone good on my way in.”

“T-Tyrone?” says Julie. “You shot him?”

“Nah. He was waiting just outside Como’s office, but when he saw me coming, he ran inside and slammed the door shut behind him. Such a sack of shit!”

“We heard shots,” says Luke.

“I put a couple in the office door. But I couldn’t get in – it’s reinforced.”

L.J. tilts his head towards the shattered window, listening to the sirens. “The pigs have arrived and media should be here soon – time to make my exit and my appearance.”

“This place must be surrounded by cops. If you don’t surrender, you’ll never get out of here alive,” says Luke.

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, teacher’s pet.”

The sirens are a discordant choir now; they seem to be coming from all sides of the school.