Tad shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Of course it didn’t. Because Diana, with her practiced smiles, wouldn’t do anything like this.
“Why? Because you think you know me?” she asked Tad. How could he know her when she wasn’t even allowed to know herself? She looked at Frankie, who had limped another step forward. “How about you, Frankie? We’ve gone to school together for years. We dated until you backed off. Did you figure out I was smart enough to do this?”
“It isn’t about being smart,” Frankie insisted.
“Sure it is,” she said, wiping the sweat dripping down her cheek onto the shoulder of her shirt, trying to keep her hands and the gun steady—like she’d been able to do when she and Tim were putting the gunpowder in the pipes. Slowly. Carefully. Checking to make sure there was no stray gunpowder on the top of the pipe when she closed it. Otherwise, one spark and—
“I’m smart enough to realize that my father needed help and that I could help him. Only he didn’t want to let me work with his staff, because I’m just his daughter. To him, I’m only supposed to look perfect and smile at the camera. But I know I can do more, so I came up with my own plan. How many people who opposed the Safety Through Education bill will decide it’s necessary after today? Just look at how dangerous schools can be. We need to do more to help empower teachers and students to keep the country safe.”
“You blew up the school so your father could pass his stupid bill?”
She leveled the gun at Z, who looked at her with narrow eyes. He thought he understood her. He didn’t. Not like Tim. Her father’s aide understood that sometimes being a patriot meant using any means necessary to persuade people to follow the right path. She’d only had to say how the hate mail she was receiving made her want to go blow something up to prove to people how necessary the bill was to catch Tim’s attention. “People don’t always understand why something is necessary until you show them.”
“So you blew up the school with you inside it to prove your father’s point?” Frankie asked.
“I wasn’t supposed to be inside,” she snapped. The first explosions were supposed to be set off two hours later—when the yearbook meeting was originally supposed to take place. The building should have been empty by then. She’d changed the meeting time to earlier so that her father and his staff could claim that she was the target and that she escaped only because of the last-minute scheduling adjustment. But something had gone wrong. She’d done everything exactly the way she and Tim had planned, and still, here she was. And Tim had been caught, and now . . . now they would know it was her. She wouldn’t be standing at her father’s side, telling everyone how she believed his bill would have helped prevent the destruction. Tim wouldn’t be around to direct the press toward the evidence he’d planted that was supposed to point at one of the students who had previously been suspended for making threats. Diana had even suggested it should be Z, because he was never in school. And he was here. She’d actually thought that maybe Tim had figured out a way to get him here. But that wasn’t the case.
She thought Tim must have screwed up the timers. He was the one who had insisted on handling that part. The bombs were all supposed to go off later, and in three waves, to make people think that the person behind the attacks was somewhere near the school, setting them off with a cell phone. Tim and Diana were supposed to be far away from it all. No one was supposed to suspect them.
But maybe the timers hadn’t been screwed up at all. Maybe Tim had wanted her to die so her father could cry and claim that his bill could have saved her life. She could see how he could make that work. Her father would become the brave senator who continued to work to make sure everyone else in the country could be protected the way his daughter had not been.
Everything she had planned was falling apart. She had to find a way to keep it together. But even if she shot Tad and Frankie and Z and then set off the bomb she had in the bag—the one that she had intended to leave near the entrance on her way out of the school so that it would go off with the others—nothing would be as it was supposed to be. Her father would be ruined. He would never get reelected or be able to run for another office. Diana would face a trial. People had died. She hadn’t wanted them to, but they had. She would be blamed. There would be a trial. She’d go to jail.
If she hadn’t gotten caught in the blast . . .
If Tim hadn’t gotten arrested . . .
If . . .
“So now what?” Z took a step toward her, and she swung the gun toward him. “You’re going to kill us and then just waltz out of here, pretending none of this ever happened?”
When she’d left the classroom, she’d set the timer for fifteen minutes. She was going to finish what she’d started.
Smoke billowed down the hall.
“Diana.” Frankie looked down at the gun and then back at her face, “you don’t have to do this.”
Yes. She did. She had done what she believed had to be done—what Tim told her that her father secretly wished would happen. Yet somehow she’d ruined it all. Her father’s career. Her life. And there was no going back from that.
People see what you want them to see.
And she hadn’t really wanted to help her father, no matter how much she’d told herself she did. She had just wanted him to realize what could have happened had she been in the building when the bomb went off. She just wanted him to see her. Only things had gone wrong. She was trapped in the building. And now everyone would see who she was.
She straightened her shoulders and tightened her grip on the gun and fired.
Diana stumbled back. Her ears rang. Tad’s eyes opened wide as the bullet bit into him.
“Tad,” Frankie cried, hobbling forward.
Diana swung the gun toward Frankie as Tad grabbed his stomach. Blood oozed over his fingers. His mouth opened with surprise as he sank to the ground.
She couldn’t breathe as she clutched the gun tighter in her sweat-slick hands and altered her stance to point it at Z, who was leaning over Tad, telling him everything was going to be okay. That he was going to be okay.
Nothing was going to be okay. Not for her. Not for anyone, she thought as Rashid burst through the smoke.
“The firefighters have an air cushion down below. We lowered Kaitlin down and Cas—” Rashid stopped twenty feet away and lifted his eyes to meet hers. “You?”
She didn’t bother to nod. She just stood there with the gun raised. Her heart pounding.
“We can all leave,” Rashid said calmly, taking a step forward. “It’s over.”
He was right. It was over.
But Diana didn’t drop the gun. Because it couldn’t be over. Not for her.
2:05 p.m.
Rashid
— Chapter 45 —
WHAT SHOULD HE DO? Rashid kept his eyes focused on the gun in Diana’s hands. He had no idea what to do. Frankie was favoring one leg. Z was leaning over Tad, who was coughing and clutching his bloody stomach. And Diana’s eyes were narrowed and her face tense with concentration as she prepared to shoot again.
Something crashed behind him. Sweat ran down his back. After Frankie had yelled that he and Tad were going after Diana and Z, Rashid had made sure the ropes they’d made were tied as securely as possible to the legs on a desk near the window. He had Cas yell to the firefighters that they were sending an injured girl down and with her help got the stretcher and Kaitlin out the window.
At first, he hadn’t been able to breathe as he slowly eased Kaitlin down a few inches at a time, but the ropes held. Cas lost control of the side she’d been lowering, but Kaitlin had been far down enough for the firefighters to catch her. She was in their hands now. So was Cas. She hadn’t thought she could make it through the window or jump to the cushion below, but she’d done both. As soon as he saw her safely hit the yellow inflated mattress and the firefighters reach for her, Rashid had run out of the room to find Tad and the others. He could have jumped too. He’d told Cas he
would, but not yet. If Z was the bomber, maybe learning that Kaitlin was with the paramedics would stop him from whatever he was going to do. If not—well, Rashid couldn’t leave Tad and Frankie to die, knowing he might be able to save them.
The temperature had grown hotter with every step as he’d hurried around the wreckage and down the hall. The tiles above this floor were blistered as he raced through. The ceiling looked as if it could come down at any second. If another bomb did go off—
“Rashid.” Frankie looked over his shoulder at him. His face was tense with pain and fear. “Get out of here.”
Blood dripped down Frankie’s leg. He looked ready to drop.
“Don’t move,” Diana called. The gun pointed at Frankie swung toward Rashid. Diana’s voice was firm and in control, but the way the gun shook in her hands told a different story. Rashid focused on that and not on the way the barrel was leveled at him or how hard it was for him to catch his breath.
“Go, Rashid.” Z yelled. “Run!”
“No one is going anywhere!” Diana took a step forward and glanced down at Tad.
Rashid watched Diana’s eyes rise and flick back and forth from person to person, as if she wasn’t sure what to do. And even though he wanted to run—everything inside him screamed to flee—he stepped forward so that he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Frankie.
“What are you doing?” Frankie hissed. “She has a bomb. In that bag, there’s a bomb.”
Rashid swallowed hard but held his ground.
“Stay where you are!” Diana shouted. “One more step, and I’ll shoot.”
She might. She’d shot Tad. She could shoot him. Rashid didn’t want to die, but he moved in front of the football quarterback. And no shot was fired.
Diana backed up against the wall. The gun was now aimed at Rashid. The bag in Diana’s hand dangled just above the ground.
“Get out of here, Frankie,” Rashid said, then held his breath and took another step forward.
If the bomb went off, all of them would get caught in the blast. Frankie and the others weren’t going to be able to move quickly. Tad had been shot. He was losing blood fast and needed help. Z did too. Frankie couldn’t move very fast. He might not be able to stand much longer on that leg. And Z couldn’t carry Tad—not with his injured arm. Rashid needed to buy them time to get away. If they could get around the corner, he’d run. He really wanted to run.
Rashid glanced at Frankie, then at Z. “Get out of here. I’ll be right behind you,” he said quietly, stepping forward yet again as Diana followed his movements with the gun. But his eyes were on the red backpack dangling from her hand. Would the bomb inside go off if she dropped it? Please don’t let it go off.
His eyes watered. His throat burned. Still, he kept his eyes focused on Diana and moved forward again, closing the space between them, keeping her attention on him.
The gun.
The bag and the bomb.
The trembling girl.
He had never been so scared.
Sweat dripped down his forehead.
The gun was only ten feet away from him. Close enough for her to hit what she aimed for. If she fired, he would die. If he rushed at her and she dropped the bag, he could die.
“You can let them go. They don’t need to die, Diana. You already got what you wanted,” he said, hoping that was true.
Behind the gun, she was breathing hard. Her back was pressed to the wall. Her eyes flicked from person to person before resting on the bag.
“Let them go, Diana. Killing them won’t change anything. Letting them live will, though.”
Her eyes flicked to him. “How?”
He glanced down at Tad, lying on the floor. His breathing was shallow. His eyes were wide with fear and shock.
“Think about it,” he said. “You understand how this works better than anyone. Everybody will want to hear their story, and every time they tell it, people will talk about what you did here.” Keeping his eyes on Diana, he waved his hand behind him and quietly said, “Z, Frankie, I’ll get Tad. It’s time for the two of you to get out of here. Go now.”
He heard the guys scramble. Frankie swore. Rashid could hear them moving, but he couldn’t look back to see how fast they were going. He had to keep her attention. Just for a few seconds. Diana looked as if she was going to shoot, then dropped the barrel of the gun just an inch. Enough to let him know she didn’t want to fire but there was still the bag and the bomb inside it.
“I don’t believe you wanted to kill people with these bombs,” he told her, hoping it was true. He had seen the way her face drained of color each time she had looked at Kaitlin. The horror she had felt was real. It had to have been.
She shook her head. “The first bomb was supposed to go off later. Everyone should have been out of the building by then. It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. None of it matters.”
“It all matters,” he said. “And it means you don’t want to do this. You don’t want to kill them. I don’t think you want to kill me.”
Diana held up the red backpack. “I set the timer. This bomb is going to go off.”
Don’t panic. Keep calm. No fear.
“I don’t know you,” he said. He heard footsteps going down the hall and wanted to look to see where they were, but he had to focus on Diana. Just a few more seconds so the others could get around the corner, where they’d have some protection from a blast. “I’ve never spoken to you until today,” he said, trying to find something to say. Anything. “I’ve never really thought about you, and I don’t think you’ve ever really thought about me. Have you?”
“Have I what?” Diana blinked and tilted her head as she studied him over the gun.
“Have you thought about me?” he asked, edging a little closer.
She barely moved as she looked at him with glassy eyes. “No.”
“None of your friends made fun of my clothes or my beard or whispered about me when I came down the hall?”
“Do you want an apology?” Diana asked dully.
“What I want is to get out of here without anyone else getting hurt. This has to end.” No more fire or fear.
“To end . . .” Diana shook her head. “This isn’t the way it was supposed to end. I just wanted for my father to see . . .”
“Your father would want you to stop the bomb.” He took a deep breath and wiped his palms on his pant legs. “You don’t have to do this anymore.” Desperation twisted Diana’s face. Rashid took a step closer so the bag with the bomb was only a few steps away. If he could get it, maybe he could stop the timer or put it somewhere it would cause the least amount of damage. “I don’t know what your life is like. I only know what it looks like. But I know you don’t have to do this. You can walk out of here with us.”
She frowned. Tears glistened in her eyes. One ran down her face as she looked from Rashid down to Tad. “No, I can’t. This was my one chance.”
“We all have lots of chances. Look at Cas. She thought her chance was over, but now she gets another one. You can have another one too. You just have to stop the bomb and help me get Tad out of here. You’re strong enough to do this.”
The gun in Diana’s hand shook. She looked back at Tad and then up at Rashid. “You’re wrong about what my father would want. He’ll be better off if I’m dead. And even if that wasn’t true, I’m not that strong.” She walked backwards down the hall away from him, her eyes now clear and free of tears. The bag tight in one hand. The gun in the other. “You’d better hurry. You only have a few minutes before the bomb goes off.” Her voice was flat. Calm. Terrifying. “Tell Cas you were right. It does take courage.”
“Diana . . .”
“If you want to live, you have to go,” she said as she stepped under a fallen board and disappeared from sight.
Move, he told himself, now.
He snaked his arms under Tad’s armpits and pulled. Tad’s tortured groan made Rashid’s knees go weak, but he ke
pt pulling. Two feet. Six. Ten. Blood streaking their path. Tad’s blood. He wasn’t going to make it at this rate.
Rashid’s heart hammered hard as he pulled Tad down the hall. How long did they have before the bomb went off? Rashid glanced over his shoulder. He was almost to the end of the hallway. He had to get around the corner. Just a few more feet. Please let me make it just a few more feet.
Tad screamed. Rashid screamed too as he leaned back and pulled as hard as he could until they finally reached the end of the hallway. He looked back into the haze, trying to see Diana. For a second, he thought he saw a shadow before he dragged Tad again and rounded the corner.
He pulled Tad into the closest classroom and slammed the door shut.
As the explosion rocked behind him, he pictured Diana’s beautiful face. Hers was the face of a girl who looked happy. She looked as if she had every reason to live. But under it all, she was a bomb with a fuse that had been lit and was waiting to explode.
“We’re okay, Tad,” he said as he heard shouting down the hall. Firefighters had finally arrived. “It’s over.”
The greatest trap in our life is not success, popularity, or power, but self-rejection.
—Henri Nouwen
Five Weeks Later . . .
Cas
— Chapter 46 —
WHY?
Cas looked out the window as her mother pulled into the student parking lot that had looked so far away from the second-story classroom window more than a month ago.
All because Diana wanted to prove that her father’s bill was necessary. At least, that’s what everyone said. The senator’s aide who planned the bombing with Diana had told the authorities that it had been her idea to demonstrate how vital the Safety Through Education law was. But it had done the opposite, because not one person could think of anything that had indicated Diana was planning something like this. Diana was the last student anyone would have reported to the administration, and yet she was the time bomb that had been waiting to go off.
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