This Is Where It Ends

by Marieke Nijkamp

  Anyone who could protect us.

  Because I can’t ask Autumn to stand up against her brother. I can only try to take care of myself, like I’ve always done.

  Ah, Dios, if only Tomás’s detention has kept him safe. Of all the days to come to school instead of skip, I wish he hadn’t chosen today. We only just started talking again.

  With my back against the wall, I’m so close to the doors—to freedom—but with the doors locked, we might as well be behind iron bars.

  Onstage, Tyler rights himself from his crouching position. “I’m thirsty. Does anyone have a drink?”

  I choke on a hysterical giggle, and the incredulousness ripples around me. No one speaks, although there are rustles as people reach toward their bags. We all understand the value of following instructions, but no one steps forward.

  “No one?” Tyler taps his chin with the gun. “Bottled water? A can of soda? Nothing?”

  No one moves. Tyler has the entire auditorium bound to him.

  “You there.” Tyler gestures at a boy in the aisle with whom we’ve shared years of classes. It’s Kevin Rolland, one of Opportunity High School’s only out-and-proud students. He was kind to everyone. He once climbed on his desk in history class during a debate with Tyler, when Tyler argued that outsiders like Kevin had no place in Opportunity, that Opportunity should protect its own.

  But every time Tyler tried to speak, Kevin spoke louder, reciting half of Harvey Milk’s “Hope for a better tomorrow” speech before the teacher asked him to step down. Most of the class applauded, not necessarily because they agreed with Kevin but because he’d stood up to Tyler’s bullying. During lunch that day, one of Kevin’s friends, Jay, “accidentally” tipped his soda on Tyler, drenching his clothes. When Kevin found his tires slashed at the end of the day, someone set fire to Ty’s locker in retaliation.

  And it kept escalating until Tyler dropped out. It was almost the end of the year anyway, and we were all glad to see him go.

  “I’m thirsty, Kevin,” Tyler says.

  Kevin rummages in his bag. His face is bright red when he looks up and mouths, “Nothing.” It seems fear has stolen his voice, like it has stolen so many of ours.

  “Shame.”

  I barely have time to look away before another shot shatters the morning, and Kevin tumbles back.

  “All I ever asked for was a chance. A chance like you gave him or her.” He carefully punctuates his words. He squints and aims at one of the juniors. Fires.

  If he’d gone on a murdering spree, it would’ve been less scary. It would’ve been a random act of violence. The simple fact that he carefully picks out his targets, among the hundreds of students in the auditorium, makes him far more of a threat. And it terrifies me.

  Tyler will shoot everyone who tries to stop him, who gets in his way, but they’re collateral damage. They’re not who he came here for.

  We are. Those of us who do not fit into his perfect world.

  I glance at Autumn. Tyler would do anything for her, and she would do anything for Tyler. Or at least, she would have. Now she is a statue, as frightened as the rest of us. Beneath her bouncy blond hair and her light makeup, she’s pasty white. And I want to wrap my arms around her, no matter who sees. Because what’s left to be afraid of when our worst fear is already here?

  The three freshman girls next to us sob. They keep their heads down and their arms around each other’s shoulders so they don’t have to face the horror.

  I wish I had the courage to stand up to Tyler.

  When I push myself to my knees, a shadow catches my eye. There’s a thin ray of light coming from under the heavy doors, and there’s a subtle difference in the shadow, like someone’s out there. One of Tyler’s accomplices? Does he even have accomplices? Did he ever have friends?

  I inch closer, but then Tyler speaks again, and I freeze in my tracks. “Today, all of you belong to me.”

  The outside world no longer matters.

  • • •

  CLAIRE

  “I’ve always thought you were perfect, and if I hated Tyler, it was because he made you believe what I’ve known for such a long time. You took command this morning when none of us could. You’re good in crises. You’re clever. You’re strong. And you can’t blame yourself for what’s happening today, because if you go down that road, you’ll never be able to turn back. You did the best you could.”

  Chris’s kindness thaws my fear, but I know being forgiven is not as easy as that. Not when he only knows half the story and I’m still connecting the dots. I want to reach out to him, but this is not the time. We need to keep moving.

  I slow my pacing to get a little more oxygen. Bad idea. It feels like inhaling ice. My heart may burst. Every race I’ve ever run has a moment when I want to give up. When the pain becomes too much and my legs feel like lead. Coach always told us, if you can get through that moment, you’ve beaten half your opponents.

  I focus on the horizon and on the silhouette of Opportunity. The old clock tower and the church. The grain silos, which, according to Matt, look like castle battlements. The skyline isn’t impressive, but it’s familiar. It’s home.

  “Ty wasn’t just angry,” I manage at last. “He was vindictive. When he got into fights with Tomás, he wouldn’t take it out on him. He’d take it out on the people close to you. He cornered Tomás’s sister during junior prom and tried to kiss her. That was why we broke up that night. Ty told me later he only meant it as a joke.”

  JROTC was at prom as honor guard, and I was making my rounds when I heard someone cry out.

  “You need to learn some manners,” he hissed at her.

  She tried to maneuver out from under his arms. “Fuck off, Tyler. I’m not interested in you.”

  He leaned closer. “I’ll teach you.”

  “He assaulted her as a joke, a warning, and I only told him to get lost. Sylv didn’t want me to report it, so I never did, but I should’ve done more.”

  That night, Ty stared at me with a wildness in his eyes that I’d never seen before. Gone were kindness and patience. Gone were the smiles. What was left was feral.

  I dragged him away from Sylvia before I turned on him, and it was all I could do to keep from screaming.

  “What the hell, Ty? What is wrong with you?”

  He flinched, and Sylvia took her chance to run back inside. If I thought her disappearance would calm Ty, I was mistaken. He was seething. “Why is it always about me? This town—this school is taking everything away from me. My home. My mother. My sister. Why am I to blame?”

  “So this is what, revenge?”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it!”

  “Sylvia has nothing to do with your fights with Tomás. I have nothing to do with your fights with Tomás.” I fought to keep my emotions under control, but all I wanted was to pound on him. Or cry. Or both. “I thought you cared about me.”

  Something like terror flashed across his face. “I do. Of course I do.”

  He stepped closer to me.

  I shook my head and pulled back. “You are disgusting. Leave me alone.”

  His jaw tensed. I expected him to lash out at me. But then his shoulders sagged. “You can’t… Please don’t leave me too.”

  I sighed. “Go home, Ty.”

  The next day, he dropped out.

  When I saw him at the Browne hardware store a week or so later, he smiled and asked about Matt and Trace. We were both a little awkward and reserved, but I thought he only temporarily lost control, like on days when the grief over his mother overwhelmed him. But he never apologized. And neither did I.

  Chris picks up the pace until we’re running again and gravity itself releases us—until every step takes us farther away from the pain.

  “We’re more than our mistakes. We’re more than what people expect of us. I have to believe that.” Ch
ris’s breathing is a little a deeper, but that’s the only sign he’s pushing himself. “You can do far more than you ever imagined. If you don’t believe that, at least believe me.”

  “Yes, Commander.” I can’t smile, but his words make my steps a little lighter. “I don’t know what to do when you’re not by my side.”

  “Are we okay?”

  I sigh. “Of course we are. You’re my best friend. Nothing will ever change that.”

  He stares at me as if he’s not sure anymore.

  Our footsteps sound on the concrete, one in front of the other in front of the other. In the distance, sirens pierce the air.

  I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes mine in return.

  Then the road drops away, and I can’t breathe anymore, and I’m falling, falling, falling.

  • • •

  AUTUMN

  Sylv backs against the door. I trail her finger with my thumbnail. She’s had so much going on with her family; she’s been so strong. I can’t stand the idea that after all she’s been through, my brother’s actions are what breaks her. I scour my mind for comforting words: “Just hold on”? “We’ll get out of here”? No. They’re all empty promises. “Ty knows what he’s doing.”

  She shivers. “Then what do we do?”

  With the hundreds of cell phones in the auditorium, someone must have alerted the authorities. “We keep our heads down and hope he doesn’t see us,” I say. “We follow instructions.”

  This auditorium is our world now, and we’re all slowly dying. Ty casually changes magazines. He tosses the used cartridge on the floor like a crumpled ball of paper.

  “Do you know what it feels like to lose everything you hold dear? Your family? Your girlfriend? For your entire town to turn against you too? Arrogant Tyler. Idiotic Tyler. Outcast Tyler. I’m reclaiming Opportunity. Your lives are mine. And you will pay attention.”

  Where did he even get the gun? One of the trade shows Dad used to attend? I can see them now, laughing together like they never laughed with me, Dad commenting on the quality of the weapon, or the right ammunition, or the best way to clean the barrel.

  My head feels light, as if I did a thousand pirouettes. The back of my throat burns. I don’t want this pain. We can never undo this.

  I want to go back to when Ty took care of me like a big brother. To go back to a time before we fell apart. To stop this from ever happening. I want to slap some sense into him, tell him to think about everything he’s losing now, but I’m frozen. If he wants revenge, he should take it out on me.

  Releasing Sylv, I stay low to the ground and crawl to get a better look at the stage. I never thought this was how I’d apply my dance techniques, but I move quietly and swiftly. If Ty finds me, at least Sylv will still be hidden in the back of the auditorium with a hundred other students.

  Ty’s voice shakes the auditorium, and my heart sinks when he stops to focus on another student. The people around me sit, crouch, hunch. They barely move as I try to get past. I keep my head down and crawl. I weave between their legs and around their bodies until I’m staring at the steps to the stage, protected by of a row of seats.

  In time to see the next shot. I rest my cheek against the rough carpeting and close my eyes.

  He sat on my bed on Christmas Eve, playing with the Juilliard audition invitation. “You should be more careful, lil Sis,” he said. “Dad will kill you if he sees this.”

  “Give it back.”

  I snatched at it, but he kept it out of reach. “Don’t worry. I’ve always kept your secrets.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Over the last few months, after Claire broke up with him and he dropped out, Ty lost interest in my secrets, the future, our family, me. He helped Dad in his shop during the week and disappeared on weekends to hunt. He got Dad’s grudging respect, while I got left behind.

  I missed my brother.

  “You should get out of here. Away from your so-called girlfriend. Show Opportunity it is too small for your talent. We’ll show them no one messes with the Brownes.”

  I reached for Julliard’s letter again, and this time he let me grab it.

  “What do you want, Ty?”

  He pushed a stray strand of hair out of his face and shrugged. “There’s nothing keeping you here. Not her. Not Dad. Not me.” The corner of his mouth twitched. That was his tell. He was bluffing. He could never play poker for money.

  But I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t give him hope.

  I stuffed the letter into my pocket. “No. There isn’t. And the sooner I can get out, the better. Get lost, Ty.”

  His face twisted into a grimace, but he didn’t say another word.

  “Shall I let you in on something?” Tapping the barrel of the gun against his chin, Ty raises an eyebrow and his voice softens. “I thought my family at least cared about me. But you corrupted them. You left nothing for me.” He fires another bullet into the audience, and this time there is a cry of pain. It seems to calm him a little.

  “Wouldn’t you agree, Autumn?” He pans the audience, waiting for me to come forward. Waiting for me to surrender.

  CJ Johnson

  @CadetCJJ

  I always thought I’d be braver but I’m so afraid. I’m so afraid. #OHS

  10:17 AM

  74 favorites

  George Johnson

  @G_Johnson1

  @CadetCJJ THINKING OF YOU COZ. PLS TAKE CARE.

  10:17 AM

  Abby Smith

  @YetAnotherASmith

  @CadetCJJ @G_Johnson1 We all are.

  10:17 AM

  Family North

  @FamNorthOpp

  @YetAnotherASmith @CadetCJJ

  @G_Johnson1 All thinking of you.

  10:18 AM

  Jim Tomason

  @JTomasonSTAR

  @CadetCJJ Can we ask you some questions about the situation at #OHS? Our reporters would like to get in touch.

  10:18 AM

  Chapter Nine

  10:18–10:20 A.M.

  AUTUMN

  No one reacts. The people around me shift uncomfortably, but they don’t speak up, point, or do anything that might betray my presence. And that surprises me. Few people here like me, and my brother is threatening them with death. Sacrificing me could be their ticket out of this hellhole.

  “Autumn,” Ty singsongs. “Would it help if I gave you an incentive to make the right decision?”

  He jumps off the stage and paces in front of the students like he’s deciding who to pick for his basketball team in PE. Miles, who spent all of junior year teasing Ty about his suits? Eve, who had a crush on Ty sophomore year but dumped him for Miles? They’re sitting next to each other. Their hands squeezed together so hard they’ve turned white.

  Ty stops in front of them. He taps the barrel of his gun against his chin again. Eve hides her face in Miles’s shoulder. Waves of tension roll off of them. The stares from the people around me burn.

  Last year, on the first anniversary of Mom’s death, Ty woke me up at the break of dawn. Dad was still asleep, the whole house smelling like beer.

  Ty smiled at me. “Let’s play hooky.”

  Technically, we had no obligations to escape—on Sundays, the store was closed. But the alternative was spending the day with Dad, and he would be hungover and unpredictable. Tyler’s three words loosened the noose of fear around my heart.

  Tyler drove us to the cemetery; then we got fries at the diner and he took me to a fringe performance of the Tuscaloosa dance company. It was a modern retelling of Othello. The performance wasn’t particularly good—half the dancers weren’t classically trained and the music was courtesy of an ancient record player—but it was the first performance I’d seen since Mom died. The first time I felt safe.

  It was perfect.

  I hoped Ty’s return
to Opportunity High meant I’d get my brother back. I didn’t want to be alone today. But not like this. Never like this.

  I swallow. This is no time for emotions.

  Ty grins, shoots Miles, and moves on. Eve screams again and again, but Ty ignores her. A few steps farther, he leans over the seats and pulls up a black girl by her baseball jersey.

  “NYAH!” The strangled cry comes from close by. My heart stops. It won’t start beating again.

  In the aisle, Asha tries to get up while three others pull her down. But Asha is fierce. She stands.

  My eyes burn. I should get up. I should stop this.

  Oh, Ty.

  “Ash, help me!” The girl struggles in Ty’s grip, but he’s too strong and none too gentle when he drags her over the row of seats. She’s young—a sophomore maybe. Her hair’s escaped from her braid, and her shoulders shake.

  I should leap to my feet, but my arms and legs are leaden. I can’t move.

  “It’s a terrifying idea, isn’t it? Losing everything you care about?” Ty asks calmly as he aims the gun at the girl. “I don’t want to do this, Autumn.”

  “No, no, no. Please don’t. Oh my God, please don’t.” The girl’s sobs fills the auditorium. She’s the first one to beg. The first one to stare into the barrel of the gun as he taunts her. The first one to break. “Help me. Someone, help me!”

  She sounds so young. Too young to die. Like all the rest of us, she’s supposed to have a future. She’s supposed to study hard and coast through high school. Make mistakes, make friends. Screw up, screw boys. Instead, she’s reduced to an example, a statistic. And I know the auditorium may be big enough to hold a thousand students, but it’s too small to hide just one.

  • • •

  TOMÁS

  Years ago, Granddad set out to teach my brothers and me the tricks of running a farm—mucking stables, repairing tools, and one day, the finer art of lock work. He didn’t think picking locks was appropriate for a girl, so Sylvia got left behind and it was just the four of us. A men’s day out.