by Cate Carlyle
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I’d seen enough shootings in the States to know that most school shooters could be prepared and armed to the teeth, and Mom had mentioned bombs even in her texts…..but MJ didn’t need to know that. I decided to flex my expert lying skills and try to reassure MJ. She obviously steered clear of news programs, so I could probably get a few past her.
“I don’t think so, MJ. I’ve been counting shots and there’s no way he has any left. Besides, whoever was outside our door has obviously moved on. We were so quiet they’d assume the room was empty, I’m sure.”
“That’s good,” she breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’re doing great.” I put on my best reassuring smile, hoping I didn’t actually look like Heath Ledger’s Joker. “If you can keep it together for a bit longer, you’ll soon be able to get to your locker and your meds, and we will all get to go home, safe and sound.”
“Thanks Ginny,” she whispered. “Sorry to unload on you like that. I know we aren’t friends, I don’t really have any close ones, but I kinda felt like I could talk to you just now and you’d understand.”
“Of course, MJ,” I said. “Anytime. I’m flattered that you trusted me with something so personal. I’m glad I was able to help make you feel better.”
“You did,” MJ replied. “When we get out I’ll make you a Toblerone cheesecake, my specialty. Bet you didn’t know I could bake? Blue Ribbon winner three years in a row at the Southwestern County Fair,” she boasted as the blush crept back across her cheeks.
“I did not know that!” I said, surprised. “I have a wicked sweet tooth. Can’t wait to try it! Thank you.”
Just then Kayla came around the side of the desk and joined us.
“Did I hear the word Toblerone?” she asked.
“Kayla’s another chocoholic, MJ,” I explained. “You’d better make two cheesecakes when we get out.”
“Will do!” MJ seemed pleased.
Kayla gently pushed me off to the side and back under my own desk where we flopped back down and allowed ourselves a moment of rest to regroup.
“Jeez Kayla, that was quite the Matrix move you pulled back there to silence Gregg!”
“Thanks,” she said. “Those Jocks are so clueless! I get that we’re all freaking out in some way, but man, couldn’t Jace have silenced him? He was right beside him.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “If that was the shooter, thank God he didn’t hear Gregg or decided not to bother with trying to get in here!”
Kayla reached in her back pocket, pulled out another white Kit Kat bar, and broke it in two to share without anyone else noticing. I placed it right under my tongue and relaxed as it started to melt. It really was the best thing I’d ever tasted.
“I’m imagining it’s a Harvey’s grilled chicken on a multi-grain bun, mayo, lettuce, tomatoes, and extra pickles, and frings on the side,” she smiled at me.
“Oh, I’m currently savoring my mom’s homemade mac and cheese, with extra old cheddar, and her sticky toffee pudding to follow,” I said, joining in the daydream.
“Harvey’s caramel pie for me all the way,” she countered. We sat there quietly enjoying the respite and the chocolate and the food porn swirling in her minds until Kayla broke the silence.
“Crap!” she sat up suddenly. “We forgot to go back and check on Miss Jones! C’mon, Gin.”
I swallowed the last of my Kit Kat and set off in a crawl after Kayla.
“Back to reality,” I moaned. “You really are a tough task master, Barbie.”
She looked back at me, feigning annoyance, and I winked at her.
“Okay, okay, said with love?” I gave her my most sheepish grin. “You’re stuck with me now. We either die in here together or become besties outside together.”
“Such a drama queen, Weasley,” she teased. “Who knew?”
We hadn’t crawled three feet when shots rang out.
POP!
POP!
Two shots, pinging off our door. Everyone raced back to safety under their desks, and those who hadn’t ventured out cowered tighter underneath the flimsy wooden barriers. After the two blasts the room was completely silent.
POP!
Another shot. This one seeming to hit its intended target and blasting its way into the door handle. The handle shook and a chunk of metal broke off, flying through the air at breakneck speed. With that final blast Rodney crawled out from under the desk beside me and stood up.
“COME ON IN! COME AND GET US! WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE ANYWAYS. GET IT OVER WITH!” he screamed.
I took a page from Kayla’s book of heroics and scurried out from under my desk. I propelled myself into the air, and tackled Rodney, bringing him to the ground underneath me. I clamped one hand over his mouth and whispered, “Sshhh!”
I lay on top of him, spanning the length of his wiry little nerd body and pinning him beneath me.
“Not one word, so help me. Not a peep.”
Another shot rang out, this one making contact to the left of the doorknob but not breaking through. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a blur as someone ran for the door. What the hell was wrong with these people? Am I the only one who didn’t have a death wish?
I turned my head away from Rodney’s face to get a better look at the door. It looked like ... Kayla? It was Kayla! She was lying on her stomach doing something to the bottom of the door.
“Kayla, come away!” I stage whispered. “Kayla!”
She turned back towards me and held a finger to her lips to silence me. With her other hand she held up a small brown wedge. Kayla then went back to what she was doing, wedging the rubber door stop under the middle of the door. It finally dawned on me. If the shooter was able to shoot the entire door handle out, or get the door to open somehow, the wedge would possibly hold it shut from our side. The door stop just might give us a little layer of extra protection. She must have figured it was worth trying.
“I’M COMIN’ IN AND NO ONE IS WALKING OUT OF THERE!”
The shooter was up against the door yanking on the loose door knob with one hand and pounding on the middle of the door with the other. Kayla scurried backwards, away from the door and under a nearby desk.
“GO AHEA — ” Rodney started to respond through my fingers, but I clamped down as hard as I could, cutting off his air. I pushed down so hard that I slammed Rodney’s head back into the hard floor, and I gave him my most threatening glare. He shut up. His eyes bulging out. I let off a little on my grip so that he could breathe again. I’d be damned if I was going to let this nerd get us all killed.
From the other side of the door we could all hear a ratcheting sound and the ping of small items hitting the floor. I don’t know how I knew it, but I was pretty sure the shooter was reloading his gun.
“Got some special ones for you lot,” he cooed through the door like a madman talking to a baby. His voice was unfamiliar to me. “They’ll put you all out of your misery and you won’t have to try to be quiet anymore. Now just open up and let me in so I don’t have to waste anymore on the door.”
Rodney started to shift underneath me, trying to wiggle free. He shook his head from side to side in an attempt to break from my clutch so that he could call out. His pupils were huge as he stared at me in complete terror.
“No,” I whispered. “Stay still. Not a sound.”
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” the shooter teased. “Don’t make me come in there!”
POP!
POP!
POP!
More shots, but quieter this time. Farther away. Please don’t let there be another shooter!
The shooter cursed under his breath and we could hear him take two heavy steps back away from our door. Then silence. No one moved, no one took a breath.
POP!
We heard the thump of his footsteps echo down the hall as the shooter started to break into a run. Whatever was happening, whether it was another gunman firing shots or the police drawing him out, this shooter was l
eaving the hallway. It was just like in those messed-up, tear-jerker nature movies; bigger prey had appeared, and the beast was now backing away from the poor wounded gazelle. Worst part was, we were the wounded gazelle.
I waited for what seemed like a half an hour, but what was probably only twenty seconds, and then I eased off of Rodney while keeping my hand over his mouth. I crouched beside him.
“I am going to take my hand away now, Rod. But you cannot make a sound. Or so help me ... ,” I threatened. “Understand?”
Rodney nodded yes, and I removed my hand. No sooner had I done so than he bounced straight up again. He grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking me violently.
“You bitch!” Rodney snapped. “Who do you think you are pinning me down like that?!”
He shook me so hard I could feel my brain rattling in my head, slamming against my skull over and over, the pain shooting through my forehead.
“Don’t you ever touch me again, you idiot!” he screamed.
Spit was spraying off Rodney’s lips and into my mouth. His eyes were bulging out of his head. His face was scarlet and covered in sweat. I could not respond. I could not get away from the death grip he had on my shoulders. I could feel myself blacking out again, the room spinning and dimming. Just when I thought my head was going to explode, the shaking stopped. I could barely make out two Nerds as they grabbed Rodney, whispering something in his ear in comforting, patient voices. They pulled him away from me and dragged him back over towards their group. I sat down cross-legged, hung my head down in my lap and closed my eyes. Someone appeared beside me.
“Ginny? Ginny? You okay?! Talk to me, Ginny!”
It was Kayla, her warm hand on my back.
“Jeez, what are you girl, some kind of fainting goat?” she muttered under her breath.
“I heard that,” I said lifting my head and turning towards her. “I’m fine, thank you very much.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said letting out a long breath and slumping down in relief. “You are a fainter though.”
The dizziness was starting to ebb, the pain in my head a dull throb, as I remembered what Kayla had just done.
“What the hell were you doing crawling around in front of the door with your little rubber door thingy and the shooter on the other side?!” I admonished her.
“I was wedging the door from the inside. I read about it in a mystery once, it stops someone on the outside from opening the door inward if the handle comes off,” she defended herself.
“Well it was brilliant, and selfless, and the stupidest thing you’ve done today! Stop trying to be the hero. They don’t always survive,” I scolded her.
She ignored me and twisted around so that I could see the back of her shoulder.
“My shoulder feels sore and a bit wet, can you have a look? I might have twisted it and maybe got some of Miss Jones’s blood on me by the door,” she asked.
I leaned over to get a closer look. The shoulder of Kayla’s shirt was ripped and there was some blood on it. A jagged piece of metal the size of a guitar pick was sticking out of her shirt, embedded in her shoulder. Kayla had been hit.
“Um ... Kayla, you have a piece of the doorknob in your shoulder. And it’s bleeding.” Nice one. Way to break it to her gently, Ginny.
Kayla tried to twist around as though she could see the back of her own shoulder if she twisted far enough.
“Stop twisting,” I said. “Trust me, I’m not lying.”
“Crap.”
“You’ll be okay, right? It’s just a surface wound I think.” I tried to reassure her. If I said it out loud maybe it would be true and not be the nasty injury I was staring at.
“Describe it to me, Ginny,” she instructed. “What do you see?”
“Uh, there’s some blood on your shirt and there’s a triangle-y piece of metal sticking out of your shoulder.”
“How big?” she asked twisting her torso again trying to see behind her.
“Stop twisting!” I scolded. “When you do that it moves. It’s loose.”
“What?” she asked. “You mean it’s not stuck in there tight?”
“I don’t know!” I said exasperated. “I’m not a doctor. It’s gross, okay?!”
“Gross? What do you mean?” she asked. “Get it together, Ginny. You need to step up and help me here!”
“Ugh! It’s about the size of a cookie and it has sharp edges. And it’s kind of dangling a bit.”
“Okay Ginny, I need you to get up real close and look and see if the skin has come apart,” she said in her calm candy-striper voice.
“Do I have to?” I whined. “Can’t we just leave it alone, or wrap something around it? You’re supposed to leave sharp objects in, right? And then keep them tight? I think we learned that in health class or somewhere.”
“If it is loose it’s a different treatment, Ginny,” Kayla was losing her patience with me. “Now look closely and tell me what you see.”
“Damn it, Barbie,” I said. I leaned in close for a better look and then jerked my head back away, my hand involuntarily going to my mouth and stifling a gag.
“What?” Kayla asked, not quite so calm anymore. “Tell me what you can see!”
I coughed a few times and cleared my throat, trying to get the image out of my head.
“Um, your shirt is all ripped away there and it’s almost like a crevasse, a skin crevasse. And the metal piece is wedged into the side of it.”
“Oh shit. What did you see in the open part, the crevasse?” she asked.
“It was pretty deep and there was gross white jelly at the bottom,” I said.
“Damnit,” Kayla exhaled.
“What’s that mean?” I asked.
“It means it’s a pretty big opening. I don’t know how long we’ll be stuck in here, and I don’t want it to get bigger. It needs to be stitched up,” she replied.
“I’m sure we’ll get out soon, and the paramedics can stitch you up in no time,” I tried to sound enthusiastic, hoping that she wouldn’t say what I thought was coming next. You better not ask me to touch that mess! I sew flowers on my jeans, not human flesh.
“I have a needle and thread in my desk. I keep it there for Home Ec class,” Kayla pointed one row over.
Of course, you do Barbie. Of course you do.
“Scoot over and get it and I’ll walk you through this,” she said.
At a loss for words for once, and desperately trying to think of how I could get out of this without sounding like a stone-cold witch, I crawled over and retrieved the little sewing kit. When I got back Kayla was breathing a bit heavier.
“Please don’t make me do this, Kayla,” I implored. “I make a shitty nurse. And I don’t want to screw this up and give you gangrene or flesh-eating disease or some horrible shoulder thing and then lose your arm!” I rambled on getting more hysterical by the second. “Don’t make me. I’ll do anything else for you but not this.”
“It’s fine, Ginny. You can do this easy peasy,” she tried to talk me off the ledge. “Now grab that water bottle and pour some on the opening and some on the needle after you thread it. We can at least pretend like it will be sterilized,” she said with a weak chuckle.
“God,” I said. “This is unreal.”
I threaded the needle with purple thread, just grabbing the first color in the case. I tied a knot off on the end and sat still, hoping Kayla would see the needle and realize how ridiculous this all was and change her mind.
“Okay, perfect, you knotted it. You’re going to have to take the door knob bit out. Super fast! And peel my shirts back, I’ll help. Then you’ll squeeze the two sides of the opening together and poke the needle through my skin at one end. Just like you’re sewing two pieces of fabric together. You have sewn before, right? I’ve seen your awesome embroidery on some of your outfits,” she flattered, pumping me up.
“I have,” I answered shortly. “But not skin! I’m not Hannibal Lecter!”
“You’ll do great,” she reassured me.
“Just be quick, for my sake. Pull the metal out and then start sewing right away.”
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I breathed as I yanked the piece out of her shoulder. Kayla jerked her arm out of her button-down sleeve at warp speed and then peeled back the tee underneath revealing her bare shoulder. I poked the needle into her flesh in one swift movement. I gulped as I felt my gag reflex kick in, but nothing came up. Kayla tensed and dug her fingers into my thigh. I could tell she was holding her breath.
“Yuck!” I said with each stitch. “Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!”
I went as quickly as I could and tried to pretend that I was not, in fact, sewing human flesh. When I reached the end of the gash, I cut the thread with the miniature sewing kit scissors and tied a knot in the purple thread. All over within seconds. I gently eased the top of her tee back up over her shoulder. Out of sight, out of mind. Kayla gingerly slid her arm back into the sleeve of her button-down. I sat back on my haunches and let out a huge sigh.
“Done,” I said and lifted my hands in the air like a chess champ who had just slammed the timer button down. “And don’t ever ask me to do that again. I won’t do it.”
Kayla let go of my thigh, turned around, reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck. She whispered a muffled thank you into my collar bone. I reached up and tried to disentangle her.
“It’s fine, no biggie. Just don’t ask me again,” I said, brushing it all off, willing my hands to stop shaking. You did it. It’s done. Big breath in, big breath out. Don’t ever let ’em see you sweat.
“It is a big deal,” she whispered, and I could feel her tears on my bare neck. Barbie had a breaking point too. She was human after all.
“Nah,” I said trying to lighten the mood. “I gave you a lovely purple embroidered daisy for good measure.”
Kayla let go of me, laughed, and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked.
“Good as new,” she said. I could see the life coming back into her eyes as she straightened her back and put her virtual armor back on.