When my parents got back from Australia, I had to tell them the truth. That I needed some form of therapy…
Maybe I need more than therapy. Maybe I need to be checked in somewhere.
I shuddered at the thought of leaving my friends, my school…for any amount of time.
I sat down on the stone steps and stared at the bright white sun until my vision filled with spots and my temples ached painfully. I need to get back inside, tell them I’m sorry…
But as I stood up, I spotted a figure moving toward me. Whoever it was, they were running. My chest tightened. Please don’t let me see another vision of Mariella!
Using my hands to shield my eyes from the sun’s glare, I recognized the boy coming closer.
Andy was running, and he was moving seriously fast.
Worried he’ll miss his darling Dakota’s routine, I thought, smiling for the first time since I’d gotten up this morning. Well, besides my fake cheer smile on the mat…
As Andy got closer, I stood up and started walking toward him, smiling. “Couldn’t stay away, could ya?” I laughed.
But then my smile faded as I instantly sensed something was wrong. He stopped in front of me, bending at the waist, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.
“Get…everybody…out…there,” he said, gasping for air between each labored breath.
That was all I needed to hear. My body kicked into adrenaline mode. I spun around and raced back inside the center. “Clear out!” I shouted at the workers in the hallway as I buzzed straight past them.
In the center of the floor, a lady with poufy dark hair was talking into a microphone. “Fourth place goes to…the Harrow Dragons!”
“Stop! Everyone needs to leave the building! I don’t know why, but—” Thunderous applause and some booing masked out the sounds of my garbled attempts at warning them.
The room was spinning, and I watched as Dakota and Amanda and the other girls raced across the floor to happily accept their trophy…how was I going to stop them? Andy said everyone needed to get out…but why?
I watched Dakota take the shiny plastic trophy from the woman’s hands. I cupped my hands around my mouth, shouting her name. She turned around to face the crowd…and then the whole room exploded.
Chapter Fifteen
The floor shook and I felt my body floating in midair. It crashed against something sharp and hard. “Uh,” I moaned, looking up from where I’d landed on the floor. All I could see was dust and debris. People were shouting and crying, wriggling around on the floor. My ears rang, time slowing down…
What the hell happened?
I looked around the room, my mind trying to form a clear thought…and only one single thought came to mind—bomb. A bomb went off somewhere…
I coughed and sputtered, using my elbows to lift the front of my body off of the ground.
Blood dripped from my face, pooling on the carpeted floor in front of me.
The whole room spinning, I struggled to pull myself up. I had to make sure my friends were okay…
But try as I might, I couldn’t budge, besides lifting my chest up off the floor.
I couldn’t feel my legs at all.
Chapter Sixteen
Winter
My shoulders trembled as I sat in the hospital lobby. It’d been nearly three hours now, and still nothing. No news on my friends, or the other people from the event.
Chattanooga Medical Center was chaos. Nurses and orderlies raced up and down the hallways, gathering supplies and pushing the bombing victims on gurneys.
Despite the loud commotion around us, everyone in the waiting area was silent. I was sitting in a chair, but lots of people were standing or kneeling. Every few minutes, someone else would arrive, rushing to the central desk to get info about their loved ones.
Then they would join us in the waiting room—for nothing. No news.
Helicopter sounds from overhead—more people being transported away from Chattanooga Medical Center.
The hospital didn’t have the capacity to treat them all, and some of the victims had such severe burns, they needed to go to the University Hospital in Knoxville.
“How will we know?” I choked the words out, barely recognizing the sound of my own small voice.
Coach Davis sat in her wheelchair, hands resting in her lap. Unmoving. She’d been that way for hours…
She didn’t look at me when I asked the question. She hadn’t looked at me once since I’d shown up at the hotel…
“Someone will tell us if they need to be transported,” she said, her words slow. I’m pretty sure she was clenching her teeth.
She hates me. She actually hates me…
I couldn’t say I blamed her, honestly.
Jordan sat to my left, his face resting in his hands. Hearing me speak, he reached over to take my hand. “Let’s take a break. Get some air outside,” he whispered.
I nodded, glancing over again at Coach Davis. I considered leaning in to tell her I’d be back, but was worried she might backhand me.
I stood up, nodding toward the exit doors. Jordan followed me, and Andy followed behind him.
Unlike Coach Davis, Andy didn’t seem mad. He was too shocked and worried about Dakota’s safety.
“Her mom and dad are on their way,” Andy said when we stepped outside, more to himself than us.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “Dakota is tough as nails. She’s going to be okay.” My words seemed so cookie cutter and childish; but I wasn’t sure what else to say.
Was there a right way to respond to this tragedy?
Jordan paced around the small, padded smoking area next to the hospital entrance. There were a couple of elderly women smoking, one with an oxygen tank.
“How long till we know more?” Andy asked, again directing his question to no one.
I shook my head, chewing on my lip as I thought about my friends.
They’re alive. It could have been much worse.
Only half of the convention center had been affected by the bomb. The people in the crowd closest to it were the ones affected the most. Lucky for the Harrow Dragon cheerleaders, they’d been in the middle of the floor, accepting their trophy when the bomb went off.
They’d been hit by debris and suffered burns, but to what extent? That’s what we were waiting to hear…
Had they lost any fingers or toes? Was the burn damage permanent?
I hoped and prayed we’d get some answers from the doctors soon. The wait was torturous.
“Police say it was the work of an amateur. That someone planted a small container, probably someone who didn’t know what they were doing.” Jordan was staring at his iPhone as he said it.
“Let me see that! They’re already releasing info to the public?” I asked, shocked.
Andy moved in close too, trying to read what the news was saying on Jordan’s tiny phone screen.
Andy looked like shit, his eyes and cheeks swollen, his hair sticking out all over. I could smell his sweat.
“Police found traces of potassium nitrate and black powder. The quantities were low. This usually signifies the incendiary device was homemade, most likely by an amateur,” Jordan said, reading directly from the news report.
“I don’t think I’d call hurting three dozen people amateurish. That amateur almost killed our friends!” I said, getting defensive.
“This is really scary.” I walked away from the boys, pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to the emergency room.
“And I should have been there. I can’t help feeling responsible.”
“Oh, Winter. That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said,” Andy said, coming over to comfort me. “You made a mistake. But I’m glad you weren’t inside, or else you would probably be injured too. And you couldn’t have stopped it. No one could have. I tried to make it there in time. I tried to warn them…”
“Wait. What?” I stared at him, my eyes wide. “You knew a bomb was getting ready to go off?”
“I found a note in the hotel room…while I was looking for you. I don’t know why, but I knew it was something to take seriously. Especially after what happened last year…”
“Where’s the note?” I demanded, flabbergasted.
Slowly, Andy pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. He thrust it out to me, rubbing his face nervously.
Unfolding the letter, I took a deep breath before reading the words aloud:
“Dragon pride! Dragon pride!
“We’re the best, so step aside!
“You’re the best
“You’re here to win
“But if you do, I’ll kill again.”
Written below in the same sloppy cursive was another chant. I kept reading:
“Come on Dragons!
“It’s time to go!
“And when you get there,
“The place will blow.”
“You figured out there was a bomb in the convention center from this?” I asked, shocked.
Andy shook his head, staring off in the distance. “Call it instinct. Call it whatever you want. I found the letter and I thought about last year and the crazy sociopath’s letters…I knew I had to get there and get Dakota—all of the girls—out of there in case something happened. By “blow,” I was actually thinking there might be another shooting. But this was just as bad.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police, dude?” Jordan took the letter from my hands, reading it over again.
“I-I don’t know,” Andy stammered, still looking shocked and shaken. “It all happened so fast. It was only a couple blocks away, so I ran. Sydney was outside, so I tried to warn her. She ran in there, but it was too late. The bomb went off right after…”
“Wait. Why the hell was Sydney outside the building?” I asked, a weird feeling coming over me.
Andy shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. Everything happened so fast. I need to talk to the police, show them this letter.”
“Where did you say you found it again?” Jordan asked.
Andy’s face reddened. “In the hotel room. In one of the bags. I was snooping, looking for a cell phone or something to help me find Winter. I thought maybe if her stuff was all there, then maybe she really was in trouble. I couldn’t reach you by phone. And where the hell were you, Winter?” he demanded, suddenly looking angry for the first time.
I felt my own cheeks light up. “Hold on. Are you saying you found this in my bag?” I pointed at the note in Jordan’s hand.
“I don’t know. It was in somebody’s bag…”
“In which room? The one closest to you, or Coach Davis?”
Andy looked around, suddenly irritated. “I don’t know. Wait, I do. The one closest to Coach,” he said finally.
“Andy, I didn’t stay in that hotel room. I got upset at the Rainbow Lounge and decided to come back, but then I ran into some more girls from Crimson in the lobby. Some girls I actually like. So, I stayed up late in their room, hanging out with them. I completely overslept. That’s what happened. Coach Davis found me and ripped my ass for what I did.”
Andy was pacing, nervous.
“Andy,” I said, taking him by the shoulders. “If the note was in Dakota’s hotel room, then it had to belong to either her, Gabi, Lauren, or Sydney. Don’t you all find it a little suspicious that one of the girls was conveniently outside during the time of the bombing? Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you?”
It sure as hell seems strange to me, I thought.
“Sydney? You think Sydney would do that? But she ran inside, right toward the bomb to help them!”
“I can’t believe that Sydney, or anyone would do something like this, but I think we need to go to the police. Now.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sydney
“Have you gotten through to my parents yet?” I took a sip of water from the nurse named Susan, who was holding up a cup to my face. “How are Dakota and Amanda? How are all of my teammates? Are they okay?” I asked, between swallows.
I’d asked these questions over and over, but she still couldn’t answer any of them. “We’re still working to reach your family. I don’t know the status on your friends yet, but as soon as I do, I promise I will let you know.” That’s exactly what she said forty minutes ago.
I tried to sit up, but she stopped me. “The doctor thinks you may have a concussion. You need to stay still and no walking around.”
I rolled my eyes. I needed to check on my friends. I needed to know if they were okay. And who set off that bomb…
The nurse checked out the stitches on my left cheek. “Stitches look fine.” She reviewed something on the machines my IV was attached to. “Your legs feel okay?”
I nodded. They still felt like Jell-O, but they seemed be working just fine now.
“You were awfully lucky, Sydney. Much luckier than the others.”
“Does that mean my friends are much worse than me?” I tried to sit up again, horrified. I’d suffered minor cuts on my arms and legs, one severe cut on my cheek. No burns, no broken bones, no serious damage.
But I’d been on the outer edge of the event space. It was the people in the crowd, people near the mat, who’d seemed to suffer the brunt of the bomb. My friends…
“Seriously. I’m fine. Can I please be released so I can check on my friends?”
“As soon as your parents get here, and the doctor approves, we’ll release you.”
“Ummm…they’re not coming. My parents are in Sydney, Australia. You can reach them by phone, but they won’t be coming to get me.”
The nurse stopped looking at her clipboard, surprised. “Oh. Who should we call, then? A grandmother or an aunt? Maybe an older sibling?”
I shook my head. The tears were coming; I could feel it. “My grandma passed away two months ago. My mom and dad were only children. And I don’t have any siblings.” My words came out harsh and angry, but the anger wasn’t directed at Nurse Susan.
My parents should be here. They shouldn’t leave me all alone, to my own devices.
“I came to Tennessee with Coach Davis. So, she should be able to sign off on my papers. My parents will give permission for that. If we ever get a hold of them.”
My head was suddenly throbbing, pulsating in painful rhythmic thrusts. I thought about the blast…me soaring through the air as I watched people being thrown across the room. Faces burning…did I see any of my friends? Cheerleaders wriggling on the floor, scattered sets of pompoms…but no Dakota or Amanda. I didn’t see Ashleigh, Lauren, or Gabi either. Was that good or bad? What if they were blown to pieces?
“Oh God, I can’t breathe.” I jerked up, struggling to pull the nose piece that was attached to the oxygen off my face. “I have to know. I have to know if they’re okay. Please,” I whined.
I looked around for Nurse Susan. She was no longer standing by the machines. Instead she was standing in the doorway, talking to a tall man in a yellow t-shirt. He looked over the nurse’s shoulder, mouth moving slowly as he said something I couldn’t hear.
“Please, please help me. The room is spinning,” I squeaked. And that’s when the room stopped spinning. It got smaller and smaller, a tiny pinprick on the wall was all that was visible…until everything faded to black and I passed out.
Chapter Eighteen
When I woke up, it took me a minute to remember…but when I did, the events at the cheerleading competition replayed before my eyes once again. People screaming, injured. A bomb injured me and my friends. Maybe it killed my friends…
I looked around for Nurse Susan again. But it was the man in yellow. Sitting by the foot of my hospital bed.
“You’re awake,” he said, a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Feel better?”
I shook my head, swallowing. My mouth was filled with tiny needles.
“Need some water?” the man asked, leaning forward in his plastic chair.
I shook my head again. I
did need some water but for some strange reason, I didn’t trust this man yet.
“Dakota suffered wounds to her face and legs, but she’s going to be okay.”
I pressed the button on the side of the bed, trying to get it to raise me up, so I could look him in the face. Thank God she’s okay!
“And the other girls? Are they okay too?” I asked, still struggling to get the bed in a sitting position.
“Amanda suffered some burns to her lower trunk area and a couple broken bones in her foot. Ashleigh and Lauren suffered minor lacerations. Gabi is the only one in serious condition.”
My throat tightened. “How serious?”
“We don’t know at this time. She’s unconscious and doctors don’t know if she’ll ever wake up again.”
I gasped, covering my face with my hands. Fingers brushed against my stitches and I winced.
“No one died, luckily. But there are quite a few other injuries, some as bad as Gabi’s. There were a lot of people on and around that mat. Whoever did this, they must have had something against cheerleaders…”
“Who are you?” I asked, sitting up straighter. It seemed like a question I should have asked first, but all I’d cared about was my friends’ wellbeing.
The man reached into his pocket, taking out a badge of some sort. He flipped it open, revealing three letters that surprised me: FBI.
“The FBI is involved? Have they caught the person who did this?”
The man didn’t answer; he just put his badge away and stared at me, as though he hadn’t heard my question.
“You guys have specialists for this kind of thing, right? People who know something about bombs? They can gather trace evidence, link it to the store they bought the materials from…”
“This isn’t an episode of Forensic Files,” the detective said flatly.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I said, “I’m not stupid. I don’t believe everything I see on TV. But I know there has to be a way to figure out who did this. Do you know about what happened at my school last year? This isn’t the first time someone has gone after us…”
Killer Moves (Horror High Series Book 3) Page 5