The terror-stricken mass fought him for every step. His progress was agonizingly slow. With each ragged breath, his heart raced faster, beating against his ribs in a throbbing, clutching, growing fear. Someone’s elbow struck him in the jaw. He knocked it aside and kept going. But the shots weren’t getting further behind him; they were gaining on him. He couldn’t move fast enough in this crowd!
Suddenly, Reed was slammed from the side and hurled to the ground by a boy running for his life. He felt the concrete smash into his body and the boy’s foot dig into his back. He heard the boy curse as he stumbled over Reed’s body and then a strange, sickening thud. A choking gasp, and the boy fell full length on the concrete, unmoving.
Reed lay where he had fallen, stunned by the impact. One more second—half a second—and that bullet would have buried itself between his shoulder blades. He made no move to rise. Something in the back of his dazed, terrified mind told him to stay low. He wasn’t sure he had enough strength to sit up anyway. The shots continued, and he heard the bullets ripping through the air above him.
The panicked cries and screams began to lessen. Waves of teenagers were fleeing either up to the Dorms or down to the city.
They’re leaving me. The thought sliced through Reed’s dulled mind like a hot iron. He was about to be left alone with an armed murderer. Without the crowd, there would be nothing between the two of them, nothing between himself and the unthinkable. He would be dead in seconds.
You can’t stay here! You have to move! Gathering his quivering strength, he rolled to his stomach and began to crawl painfully across the pavement toward the Dorms. Horror cudgeled his mind and goaded him on, screaming to his terrified brain. Move! Move! Move!
He grimaced, clenching his teeth as he dragged himself across the rough concrete, but his frantic mind felt nothing, understood nothing. One thought occupied his entire being and clutched at his heart. If I don’t make it… if I don’t make it…
The cement ripped several buttons off his shirt. It scraped the skin of his forearms tender; he was missing a piece below his left elbow. He could taste dust in his dry mouth and feel grit in his eyes. The stretch of concrete was eternal. There’s no way you can make it in time.
He wasn’t sure how far he had crawled before it happened. The firing cut off. He stopped moving and dug his cheek into the rough surface, cringing. It did not start again. He lay for another moment, waiting. Nothing happened. Cautiously, he raised his head. Still, the shots did not resume. Taking a deep breath, he struggled to his feet, rubbing his arms, and looked about him dumbly.
It was horribly still. A handful of other teens remained standing on the road. The collapsed ride lay not far away in a heap of twisted yellow metal like a mutilated Titan. Shredded canvas hung limply from booth frames and overturned counters.
It was over.
But the ones standing were not the only ones left on the street—not nearly. Reed passed his hand over his eyes to clear his mind from the nightmare, but the ghastly vision did not depart. Most of the crowd had vanished, and left where it had once been were bodies, scattered on the ground. They had been kids not half an hour ago, living and laughing; but now they were groaning, bleeding, dying. Bodies—kids—just like him.
Like a curtain, his previous blind terror fell from Reed’s mind. A new sensation rushed through him, pushing back everything else. Just like him. It was strange, foreign, but suddenly he wanted nothing more than to help them, to do something.
Apparently, he was not the only one who had the sudden awakening. The others who were left broke from their trances and fell to work immediately, going from victim to victim, looking for signs of life.
Reed dropped down next to the nearest boy and rolled him over. He started when he saw the face. It was Will, who had first brought the news of the carnival to Reed and Reagan. He was not breathing. Reed sat back, staring. So this was death. It seemed different now with the horror of its reality lying in his lap. This was what he’d escaped only minutes before. One shot was all it took, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He dropped his eyes from the still face and saw that Will’s hand still clutched a CD of the Hordes of Hell. It was shattered by the bullet that had taken his life and dyed a deep scarlet.
Reed stood up slowly. There would be time for sadness. Now, others needed help. Sirens began to wail in the city below. Ambulances were on the way, but they would be too late for some. Reed hurried on to the next form.
Some of those who had fled to the Dorms began to trickle back. Some of them, after staring at the scene for a moment, also set about helping the fallen. But not all. The shock was too much for many; they collapsed against trees or fell to their knees wailing, rocking back and forth. The rest worked on.
The returning trickle turned to a rush. More teens appeared on the road and began helping feverishly. Shirt sleeves, whole shirts, bottoms of jeans and skirts, scarves, and fair prizes became bandages. Belts turned into tourniquets and makeshift stretchers. There was a strange sense of urgency and kinship like nothing the Hill had ever experienced. It was a single heart, a single drive, a single truth in three simple words: just like me. Friends or strangers, it didn’t make a difference. They were fellow humans, and that was all that mattered.
For the next two hours, they did what they could to clear the roadway for the emergency vehicles, comfort the wounded, and help load them into ambulances. Some of the victims could walk on their own or with help from other teens. Others could only be moved by the medical staff and had to wait for assistance. These were the worst, often crying hysterically and begging someone to stay with them. Several had to be extracted from the wreckage of the fallen ride.
By the end of it all, Reed was exhausted. He paused to survey the scene as the last ambulance roared down the road into the city. Dozens of other Dorm residents, looking just as tired as he felt, remained and watched the sun set red in the west.
They had done it, Reed realized. Catastrophe had struck, but they had rallied together. They may have run at first, but they had all done their part in the aftermath. Reed felt proud to be one of them.
As he turned back up the hill, he caught sight of a familiar group half-way up the slope. Lucy, Katy, Kara, and Sarah were gathered in a little knot near the Dorms. He hurried to catch them. As he neared, he realized they were not alone. Alec, Elijah, and Gabe, looking no better than anyone else, were with them. Reed hadn’t thought about the three after they had vanished into the crowd but, seeing them now, he was relieved of a subconscious worry. They were still alive and walking.
“Well,” Alec greeted him as he joined them, “you’re a sight for sore eyes. You’re not hurt, are you?”
“Me?” Reed glanced down at the remnants of his shirt and realized for the first time it was covered in blood. “No, just tired. That’s somebody else’s.”
“Same here,” observed Elijah, eyeing his stained arms. “We probably need to wash this off outside. It’s really not safe.”
They found a faucet on a wall of one of the dorms and took turns rinsing their hands and faces. As Reed leaned against the wall, waiting for his turn at the water, the adrenaline that had carried him through the long, traumatic ordeal gave out. All the emotions he’d forced back rushed over him, not to be stopped, and he was suddenly tired, heartbroken, and sick. The full horror of what had happened and what he had seen struck him in a crushing reality. His former pride faded and, instead, he felt cold and shaken to his very core. All it had taken was one man, one gun…
Reed had a sudden thought. “Hey, what happened to the shooter? He just stopped all of a sudden, and I never heard anything about him.”
“Somebody took him out,” replied Gabe, drying his hands on his thighs.
“Somebody?” exclaimed Lucy. “You mean you did.”
“I did not,” countered Gabe. “Alec and ’Lijah did most of it.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Wait,” Reed interrupted, “you guys did it? H
ow? He had a gun!”
“Well, we tried to talk him down first,” said Alec, shaking the water from his arms, “but that didn’t go over very well. In the end, it took three of us, but we got him.” He paused and rubbed his jaw. “It wasn’t quite as easy as I wish it had been, but we had a few things in our favor. Never mess with ’Lijah in a fight.”
Elijah had his face in the stream of water and couldn’t reply.
“What happened to him?” Katy asked timidly. “Did you… did you… kill him?”
“Oh, no,” Gabe assured her, “Just incapacitated him. The police took him after they got there. Maybe he won’t have too many internal injuries or concussions.” He paused. “Okay, so maybe it’s wrong, but I really don’t care if he does.”
The momentary distraction passed. Reed leaned his tired back against the wall, absorbing the warmth that radiated from the bricks, and tried to right his shaken psyche. There was so much horror, so much pain. The others must not see him like this. He had to pull himself together.
Elijah, drying his face and arms, looked up and met Reed’s eyes. “How are you holding up?”
Reed only shrugged. Elijah straightened and joined him by the wall. “It’s okay to not be okay, dude,” he said, leaning against the warm bricks. “We’re all shaken up. Somebody tried to crack the fishbowl, and we can’t just walk that off.”
Reed rallied his failing spirits. “He tried,” he answered, “but he didn’t, did he? Maybe the Hill’s tougher than you think.”
Elijah cocked his head and searched Reed’s face. “Do you really believe that?”
“Of course! Didn’t you see the way everybody pulled together? I love this place.”
Elijah stared into the distance but said nothing. Sarah approached before Reed could say anything else. “’Lijah, I hate to bother you, but would you mind walking us home? It’s not that far, but I don’t want to take any chances tonight.”
“My pleasure,” Elijah replied, awakening from his distant mood. “Cody might be wondering why I’m not back by now. I should get going.”
After they had all finished washing, he and the two girls started down the sidewalk toward the apartments. As the others turned toward the Dorms, Reed, on a sudden urge, turned back and called after the figures disappearing into the dusk, “Hey, ’Lijah! Thanks for earlier. I’ll keep working on that knot.”
Elijah waved. Gabe gave Reed an odd look. “What was that about?”
“Oh, nothing.” Reed forced a half-smile and a shrug. “Anyway, I’m tired, and I need to go make sure my roommates are okay.”
Lucy looked concerned. “Do you think they might’ve gotten hurt?”
“No, but it’s a good excuse to go up and get into bed.”
Chapter 25
For several days after the awful event, Dorm society was in complete upheaval. Besides tightened security, another shakedown, and the natural trauma, everyone faced the awful business of finding out who had escaped the massacre and who had not. As he had hoped, his roommates were unharmed, but Reed knew nearly all the victims from his extensive circle of acquaintances. Will was his only close friend to be fatally injured.
As the dust began to settle, bits of the story behind the shooting came to light and were carefully pieced together. The gunner, a resident of the notorious Dorm Eleven, had been armed with two handguns and nearly a dozen magazines of extra bullets. He’d targeted the street fair since the crowd would be one of the largest the Hill had ever seen. The rest was not hard to follow. He had maneuvered to the center of the carnival and opened fire, changing clips as he emptied them. How he came by the firearms or the ammunition was a complete mystery. He was interrogated but refused to reveal anything. Word spread not long afterward that he committed suicide in prison.
The count of his victims came up in reports from the city: sixty-seven dead and more than ninety wounded. The staggering number was attributed mainly to the density of the crowd. With the odds stacked so high in the murderer’s favor, it was indefinite at first what had ended his killing spree. The police had found him unconscious on the scene, his guns lying nearby. The puzzled authorities could make nothing of it. An explanation was finally offered when a handful of witnesses reported the murderer had been attacked and overcome by three unarmed young men. No one could identify them. An announcement was issued, publicly praising the unknown heroes and asking that they come forward to be recognized. They did not, however, and their identities remained a mystery—to most.
Reed was one of the few enlightened. He was more than a little proud to know the three boys the whole country was asking about, but he kept his secret at their request. He sat silently through wild speculations at the Mushroom and the factory, trying not to laugh at the fantastic powers attributed to his friends.
But things could not stay on such a high forever. A form of normalcy returned as the turmoil faded back into everyday life on the Hill. Reed, strolling between the Dorms a week or two later, marveled at how quickly the terror seemed to have been forgotten. The parties had already resumed as if nothing had happened, and expectations were on the rise as the delayed opening of the rec center drew nearer.
But he couldn’t forget. No matter how hard he tried, he could not erase the image of Will lying in his own blood or the sound of the ripping bullets. They haunted the edges of his memory day and night, slinking in the shadows of every ordinary thought like sleepless specters. The closest he could get to relief was distraction.
Going back to what he had learned during his early days on the Hill, he immersed himself in the rush and swirl of everything the Dorms offered. The bubble was unbroken, but Reed was more shaken than he wanted to admit. Moments like these, walking alone under the trees, were the only times he let himself reflect on the dark horrors of the past.
“Well, it’s nice to see you alive, too. Thanks for noticing.”
Reed’s thoughts scattered. He hadn’t realized someone had come up beside him.
“Oh, hi, Sam.” Reed made an effort to sound less grudging than he felt. “I was just thinking. I see you made it through all right.”
“Yep,” Sam responded, swinging his lanyard around one finger. “Never even saw the guy. I suppose you heard about Will?”
“I found him.”
“Oh.” Sam was obviously not expecting that. After a moment of rare silence, he added, “Yeah, pretty sad. But the worst part is that we missed the concert that night. I mean, that is literally the worst! The Horde packed up and left so quick, I never even got to meet ’em!”
Sam talked on and on. It was all old, pointless gossip, and Reed couldn’t care less. Finally, when Sam paused for a breath, he took the chance to get in a sentence.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard from your friend Dylan, have you?”
“Dylan, from our hall?” Sam crinkled his forehead. “No, I guess I haven’t. I should drop into his room and check on him. He might be wondering about me, too.”
Personally, Reed found that doubtful, but he granted that it was a possibility and urged Sam to find out. Sam agreed without much persuasion. He had even started to leave before he paused and turned back. “Hey, are you going anywhere tonight?”
Reed nodded quickly. “Yes. I mean, most likely.”
“Oh. Then I guess I won’t see you later?”
“Probably not.”
Looking disappointed, Sam turned and trotted off. Once he was out of earshot, Reed blew out his breath. He’d done his best to cut back on the jabs and criticisms after his conversation with Elijah, but he still found the other boy trying at times.
“What was all that for?” Reed muttered, resuming his walk. “The way he talked, you’d think nothing happened.”
Then it struck him. Sam was talking as if everything were normal because he wanted it to be that way. The Hill was Sam’s life supply, and any blow to it struck at him deeply, like an ax on a tree trunk. No, Sam had not forgotten. Maybe he wasn’t so different from Reed after all—seeking distraction from his
pain, burying himself in the system.
Reed picked up a stick from the sidewalk and began to break it into tiny pieces. Maybe it wasn’t just Sam. Perhaps the whole Hill still remembered all too well. What if this flippancy, which Reed thought was forgetfulness, was only a cover? Could it be that they were all only pretending to go on? Reed felt something close to sympathy for Sam. Still, the kid could be annoying.
“Goin’ somewhere?”
Reed jumped. Again, someone had joined him while he was deep in thought. He needed to start paying more attention.
“Oh, Hunter! I didn’t see you.” He tossed away the stick.
“Obviously.” Hunter’s dry manner hadn’t changed. “I’ve hardly seen you in over a week. At least you’re still alive.”
“Everybody keeps saying that like it’s weird. Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
“Maybe,” Hunter shrugged. “I wasn’t actually there, but maniacs like that usually go for the high-profile targets first. You’re lucky he didn’t hunt you down.”
Reed swallowed and glanced at him. “You weren’t there? Why not?”
“I just didn’t feel like it. I had other things to do.”
Reed could hardly imagine what might keep someone away from a free carnival, but Hunter went on without explanation. “So I just heard you tell Sambo you might be going out tonight. Got anything in mind?”
Reed did, actually. There was going to be another meeting with the group in the apartments. Reed hadn’t been to one in several weeks, and he felt it was time to make another visit. But he couldn’t tell Hunter that; he had to think up some kind of answer. “Oh, yeah, kinda sorta, I guess.” He kicked a fir cone off the sidewalk. “Reagan wants the room tonight, so I’m gonna meet a friend and we’re going into town.” True, he was supposed to meet Nathan after supper before going to the apartments.
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