by Sean Black
He moved it back as a teenage girl stepped down from the road towards them. She had a ghostly white complexion and red hair. A blood soaked strip of cloth was wrapped tight around one of her arms.
Lock slowly exhaled. He had come within a split second of ending her life twice within the space of a minute. Fear gave way to anger.
“What the hell are you doing jumping out like that? I could have killed you.”
The girl looked at him with an even expression. “So why didn’t you?”
70
The gun felt good in Jacob’s hand. Finally, he had the power. He was the one in control. People would do what he said now.
He looked around at the other kids. They were scared. Scared of him. Like he had been scared of them once upon a time. Even the sixes were frightened. Maybe especially the sixes. All those perfect, little rule followers who had looked down on him. Who had treated him worse than dirt.
It was all so different now. The ones were in charge, and the sixes were at the bottom of the heap. Not all of the ones had followed him. Most hadn’t. That was okay. He didn’t need much help.
In the end only two of them had come in with him. Both of them boys, who, like him, had been here for over a year without making it past level one. Boys that the staff had picked on, and other kids had bullied because they were different somehow, or wouldn’t do what they were told.
One, Adam, was a scrawny fourteen-year-old with ears that stuck out and made him a target. Not that anyone was laughing at his ears now. Nor were they calling Jacob’s other friend, Corey, who was fifteen and stuttered, any names either. Not when he was holding a gun to the back Little Miss Perfect Rachel’s head as the other kids followed Jacob’s instructions to light the fire pits.
Tonight they were going to have some fun around the fire pits that no one would ever forget. And Jacob was going to be able to have his say, without anyone telling him he was wrong. So was Adam, and so was Corey, and so were any of the other kids who’d been bullied and picked on.
There would be one rule for the fire pit. You could say what you wanted. You could tell the truth. The real truth. Not the truth that you thought Gretchen and the other staff wanted to hear.
But before that, Jacob was going to start things out with a special piece of entertainment. Something that would set the mood.
Gretchen always had to be the center of attention. And Jacob was going to make sure she was. One final time.
After all, none of this would have been happening without her. Not just because she had made him who he was, but because once she was done torturing him, she had made the mistake of believing he was incapable of revenge.
After the electro-shock therapy sessions, all three of them, he had shuffled, and drooled around Broken Ridge for real. He hadn’t been able to lift his feet, or control what his mouth did. But as time passed, his body, and his nervous system had recovered. Only he had decided to stay the same, at least as far as everyone was concerned.
That was when he noticed something interesting beginning to happen. Because of how he behaved, the staff ignored him. It was as if they thought he was deaf. They didn’t guard what they said when he was around. It was as if he was invisible. Gretchen even put him to work cleaning up in the ranch house. That was when he had discovered the safe. Only thing he had to do after that was gather a few recruits to his cause (which wasn’t difficult), and bide his time.
Jacob had known that sooner or later, something would give. The place would begin its descent into chaos. When it did, he would be ready. Ready to pay back Gretchen, and all the others, for what they had done to him. The ones would be the powerful, and the sixes would be ground into the dust. Jacob was going to take Gretchen’s stupid system and turn it upside down.
After all, Jacob reasoned, what could she do to him now that she hadn’t already done?
Ty hunkered down at the corner of the dormitory building closest to the fire pits. The scene in front of him verged on the surreal. Three of the students, armed with hand guns and one rifle were holding the rest of the student body at gun point. They barked orders to a handful of the younger students who were busy lighting the fires, while the rest had been forced into their usual position around the fire pits.
Of all the sights Ty had anticipated himself confronting when he had heard the gun shots, this wasn’t one of them. By the look of shock on the faces of the small group of staff members who were huddled together in the middle of the fire pits, he wasn’t the only one who’d been taken by surprise.
Looking out from the corner of the building, there was another shock. Not only had Chris gone to ground. Gretchen was nowhere to be seen either.
Ty quickly shifted back into work mode. He was facing a hostage shooting with three gunmen holding at least a hundred captives. So far they didn’t appear to have killed or injured anyone. That could change in the blink of an eye.
The three holding the weapons didn’t appear to have any level of training. But that could work for or against the people being held. Gunmen with training were a more difficult threat to deal with. But those with no training or experience were more apt to panic and take someone out without meaning to.
In any case, calling them gunmen seemed to be a stretch. They were runty looking teenage boys who hadn’t started shaving yet.
There was one positive though. The situation seemed to be relatively stable. In a mass hostage situation the two critical points were, by definition, at the beginning and the end of the event. As far as Ty could tell they hadn’t started out by shooting anyone, which made it less likely that they would. Less likely, but not certain.
Although he was outgunned three to one, the three shooters would be no match for him. Plus, they were out in the open. Hostages would be able to scatter. But, and there was no getting away from this, if he did something now, it was certain that there would be casualties. He’d likely have to shoot at least one of the boys holding weapons. That wasn’t a decision to take lightly. Not if it could be avoided.
He decided upon a tactical retreat. He’d stay close enough to take action if the situation changed, and try to make contact again with Lock, and law enforcement.
He backed up slowly. Melting back around the side of the dorm building. Out of sight of the three shooters. Ty squatted down, his back against the dorm wall. His shoulder throbbed with pain. He tried to lift his left arm. No go. He could barely get it away from his side. Too bad. Getting it seen to would have to wait.
He laid his SIG down on the ground for a moment. He took out his cell phone, ready to try Lock again. He didn’t know what had caused Lock to terminate their last call, but it hadn’t sounded good.
Ty squatted down, his back against the dorm wall. His shoulder throbbed with pain. He tried to lift his left arm. No go. He could barely get it away from his side. Too bad. Getting it seen to would have to wait.
He was about make the call when around the corner, someone shouted. Ty didn’t catch what they’d said. A low buzz of chatter rose from dead silence.
Pocketing his cell phone, Ty picked up his gun again. He duck walked back down the side of the building. When he reached the corner, he took a quick peek around.
A surreal scene had just clicked up another notch. The fire pits had all been lit, bathing the hostages in dancing orange light. One of the teenage shooters was pushing someone towards the center pit at gun point.
The shooter stopped, and picked up a red two-gallon gas can. The can would be full of an accelerant, either petrol or something similar. He turned back to the kid who was directing everything, Jacob. Jacob gave him a thumbs up.
The kid raised the gas can above Gretchen’s head, and began pouring, dousing her with it. Petrol. Ty could smell it from here. Gretchen began to whimper and moan, her cries muffled by the thick silver tape wrapped tight around her mouth. Her hands were cinched tightly behind her back with a length of rope.
Jacob watched her distress with a smile. The tormented now the tormentor.
&nbs
p; Gretchen half turned, and took a step, making a run for it. The kid with the gas can was caught flat footed. She had three steps on him. She picked up her pace. one of the kids sitting down, swiveled around, put out their leg and tripped her as she ran past.
Gretchen stumbled, and fell forward. She face-planted into the ground, no arms ready to break her fall. The shooter caught up with her. He tipped the final contents of the gas can over her, starting at her slippers and working all the way back up to her head.
Face down in the dirt, Gretchen wriggled and writhed. One of the staff members, an older woman, got up from where she was sitting.
“Enough! Stop this right now.”
Jacob turned, raised his gun and shot the woman in the chest. She fell back. He dropped another round, this one into her head.
“No talking!” he shouting. “Those are the rules.”
Ty’s blood chilled. Glancing back to Gretchen, he caught a look at the student who had tripped her, foiling her escape. It was one of the girls from Ruth’s dorm.
71
Don Price grabbed the girl by the shoulders and shook her. “Where’s my daughter? I need to find her.”
Lock pulled him away from her. “Take it easy.”
Don spun round, spittle flecking the corners of his mouth. “Don’t tell me to take it easy. I need to find Ruth.”
Something seemed to register with the girl who had been inches from being killed by Lock’s vehicle. He took a step towards her.
“Ruth Price. Do you know her?”
“Ruth’s my friend. Why? Who are you?”
Don shouldered his way past Lock. This time he kept his hands to himself.
“I’m Ruth’s father. I came here to get her. Now, can you tell me where she is?”
The girl stared at him. It was as if she was experiencing everything from behind some kind of screen. “I don’t know. We were in the barn together.”
Don turned back towards Lock. “You hear that? She’s in the barn. Let’s go.”
“No, we got out. A man helped us.”
“Okay, so where is she now?” Lock asked, trying to coax some kind of sense out of the girl.
“I don’t know.”
Don looked like he was about to explode again. Lock placed himself between Don and the girl. This was going to take a little time. The girl wasn’t lying, or being difficult, he was sure of that. She was in shock.
“What’s your name?” Lock asked her.
“Mary. I’m Mary. Ruth’s my friend.”
“Okay, Mary,” said Lock. “I’m going to get someone to take a look at your arm for you, and make sure you’re somewhere safe. How does that sound?”
She looked at him. He still wasn’t sure he was getting through to her, but it was a start.
“Okay,” she said.
“Now, Mary, you were with Ruth. Where did she go?”
“We went down to the road,” she said. “There was a Minivan. Ruth got into it. It drove off. I don’t know where.”
“That’s good. You’re doing really well. Now, can you tell me anything else about this van? Did you see who else was in it?”
“It was a man.”
“And what did this man look like? Can you describe him to me?”
The blank look drifted across Mary’s face again.
“Was he white? Black? Old? Young?”
“White. Kind of old. He had like this big, bushy beard.”
Behind them, Don Price cursed.
“And the Minivan?” Lock pressed, his mind turning over, pieces falling into place. “What can you tell me about that? What color was it?”
“Black, it was black.”
“And you’re sure that Ruth got into it, and it drove off with her inside?”
Mary nodded.
“Which way did it go?” Lock asked.
She pointed across to the east, away from town. “That way.”
“Okay,” said Lock. “You did real good.”
“Take her with you,” he shouted to Don, tossing him the keys for the Explorer. “Drop her at the first emergency room. Then you can go on and get your daughter.”
“You know where she is?”
“No, but I have a good idea where they’re headed.”
“Where?”
Lock gave him brief directions and an address he could plug into the Explorer’s GPS system.
“The man with the beard. I don’t think he’s going to hurt her so when you find Ruth take it easy on him, okay? Oh, and as soon you can, call the local Sheriff, State Troopers, and the Feds. We’re going to need bodies up here, and fast.”
“What are you talking about the man with the beard? Who is he? Why won’t he hurt Ruth?” Don asked.
A fresh crack of gunfire broke the silence. It was coming from the school. Whatever was going on, and whoever was firing, it wasn’t good. Lock turned and took off running.
72
Ty squatted down, his back against the dorm building, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “Ryan?” he whispered.
“I’m almost there. What’s the gun fire?”
“Some of the kids have turned the tables. There are three of them, and they’re armed. We got two staff members dead, and one about to barbecued. I have three rounds left.”
“Okay, well, I have extra clips and I’m almost there. Cops should be on there way too.”
The news didn’t fill Ty with confidence. It was likely that local law enforcement would be first to the scene. They could easily blunder in and turn a crisis into a catastrophe. The three kids with weapons were well dispersed among the others.
“When you hit the ranch house, circle east, that’ll bring you down to where I’m at, down by the last dorm building.”
“Copy. Sit tight.”
Jacob counted off the hands raised in the air. Apart from the remaining staff members, only a handful of students had kept their hand down. Part of him admired their guts. Not that guts would stop him from killing them when the time came.
He crouched down next to Gretchen, and whispered, “Bad news, Miss Applewhite. A majority want to see you on the fire.”
She whimpered, her neck twisting round, her eyes rolling white with terror. Jacob smiled. After all this time, she had a window into his world. She felt as he had. Knowing that something bad was about to done to you, and knowing there was no way to stop it.
“Jake!”
Jacob looked across at Adam. He had his gun up. He was pointing it at the corner of the dorm building.
Ty stood, arms down by his side, palms open, facing the fire pits, one step out from the corner.
“What? The F.N.G. doesn’t get an invitation to the party of the year?” he said to Jacob. “That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”
Jacob didn’t seem fazed, but the other two shooters were nervy. That could go either way. Bad if they developed an itchy trigger finger. Good if they’d been thrown off balance by his gatecrashing their event.
“The F.N.G.?” Jacob asked him.
Ty rolled his eyes. Kids these days. “It stands for ‘the fucking new guy’. Pardon my language.”
Jacob raised his gun. There was forty feet between him and Ty. A tough shot with a hand gun for a kid who didn’t look like he’d spent any time on a gun range.
Jacob waved the gun at him. “Come sit down.”
Ty shifted his weight, ready to move. His eyes flicked between the two shooters who had guns on him. “No can do.”
Lips peeled back from his teeth, Jacob snarled at him. “I told you to sit down.”
“Okay,” said Ty. “But I need to tell you something first. I came here to make sure Ruth Price was safe. I was hired by her father.”
Ty’s eyes kept darting between the shooters. It was all well and good giving a speech. It wouldn’t look so hot if he caught another bullet before he finished it.
So far, Jacob didn’t seem all that impressed by what Ty was telling him. “And?”
“What’s happened here is wrong. What Gret
chen’s done is wrong. People going along with it is wrong too. But so is this.”
The two other shooters were looking over at Jacob. Trying to see his reaction. Looking to take their cue from what he did or said. That told Ty that if Jacob called it a day, so would they. They were followers.
“You toss her on that fire, and you’re no better than she is,” Ty continued. “You’re worse.”
“How do you make that out?”
“You know what you’re doing’s messed up. You didn’t come in here like this. You do this, and she’s won. She’s turned you into something you’re not.”
Jacob glanced down at the ground. He lowered his weapon. No one said anything. Ty took a breath. It seemed like he’d gotten through.
Jacob raised his head. “Shoot him,” he said to Adam, raising his gun.
Ty pivoted back, as Adam fired. The corner of the building fragmented, a chunk of wood and plaster puffing out, as Ty dove for cover.
He heard someone rushing towards his position. Ty drew his SIG, and tucked in tight, refusing to offer his back to whoever was barreling towards him. His back against the wall, Ty waited.
A second later, Adam rounded the corner. He came in tight, rather than giving himself some distance between the open ground and the wall. Ty spun, angling downwards, and caught him flush in the face with the elbow of his right hand.
The kid’s legs wobbled. He fell. Ty followed him to the ground. He threw two fast jabs, the SIG still in his hand, the gun catching Adam in the face, breaking his nose, and crushing a cheekbone.
The gun fell from Adam’s hand. Ty reached down, grabbed it and threw it behind them, safely out of reach. He reached down, and pulled Adam back to his feet, dazed and bleeding.
“Ty!”
Lock’s voice from behind him. A blur of movement. Ty looked left. Jacob was standing there, gun raised. He was within ten feet, his finger on the trigger, the gun pointed straight at Ty.