Blake pulls out a knife. “Cover us.” He tells me.
I realize he doesn’t want to risk shooting at the door and chancing hitting somebody who might be behind it. I keep my eye on the entrances at our backs while Blake signals Richard to follow him. Richard seems a bit more apprehensive, making his way forward, eliciting admiration from me. He is only thirteen. No thirteen-year-old should have to do what he is about to do and what he already did. Nevertheless, he plows on, determined.
The maniacs still have no clue what is about to happen to them. Their fists pound relentlessly against the door, and from inside, frightened voices cry.
“Go away.” A terrified boy whimpers.
“Leave us alone.” A girl, crying hard.
“Shut up.” A hushing voice, angry almost, sounding just as scared.
In perfect unison, Blake and Richard strike. Blake, who is taller, grabs his adversary around the shoulder before using his other arm to slice the maniac’s throat. At the same time, Richard pounds my knife hard into his victim’s back.
Both maniacs turn and grunt, but Blake’s opponent’s knees are already buckling from the blood loss, and he goes down quickly.
The maniac, Richard attacked, has enough time to swing his arm around, wanting to get a hold of the kid. I aim, but I’m afraid to hit Richard or Blake. But Blake is already there, his fist connects with the maniac’s chin, and the man stumbles against the wall. The impact shoves the knife deeper into the maniac’s back, and he goes down with a groan.
I smell it before I hear or see it. I was distracted by the boys’ fight and will now pay the price for my carelessness. The woman hisses as she flies out of the room to the left of me. Probably attracted by all the noise, why she has stayed hidden inside for so long is beyond me.
I wheel around, but before I can shoot, she has plowed into me, smacking me to the ground and against the door behind me. The air is knocked out of my lungs, paralyzing me for a second and delays my reaction time; I still manage to lift my leg and kick her hard in her thigh before she can get on top of me.
She staggers but keeps upright; her long hair is a matted mess and sticks to her head and shoulders. Her clothes are torn and stained, brownish red, blood. It’s still wet; I can tell by the way the clothes cling to her body. I have an idea where the blood came from, and all I need to do is think of the small lifeless bodies below. With a cry of outrage, I jump to my feet and plow into her.
I lift my right arm as I do and smash my elbow into her face with all the anger and hatred inside of me. She doesn’t even try to defend herself; she just keeps attacking me, her fingers claw at my naked arms, but I don’t feel anything. My fist comes down on her again and again until she stops moving. And I don’t stop there.
It takes Blake and Richard to peel me off her. I don’t know if she is dead, and I don’t care. I’m still so enraged; I almost attack the boys.
“Vivian,” Blake screams at me.
It takes me a second to collect myself. “I’m okay.” I pant.
“Are you hurt?” Richard points at the claw marks on my arms. I give it a perfunctory glance before I assure him. “It’s not bad. I’ll have it checked later.”
They are only bleeding a little, and we are far from done here. Blake gives me a doubtful look, so I smile reassuringly. “I’m okay now, don’t worry.”
I ignore my vibrating phone against the pocket by my butt, and we check the other rooms. The room the woman came out of holds two bodies. I don’t know if she killed the kids in there or if the men by the library did. Either way, I don’t feel bad about what I did and wipe her blood off my split knuckles.
“Dickie!” I hear Drew’s voice and turn just in time to watch the two brothers embrace. “Am I glad to see you, bro?”
My eyes rove over my friends; Ace has a nasty cut on his temple, and Jose is holding his bleeding arm, but they all smile and seem fine.
“Let’s check outside for more monsters,” Blake suggests. We are all exhausted, but we follow Blake outside, just as we hear the first sirens.
Chapter 23
“The cavalry has arrived,” Richard states sarcastically, making me smile. He’ll fit in with us just fine.
Drew grins and high fives his brother, “Better late than never.”
We get outside, just as Sheriff Donovan climbs out of his car, followed by a couple of ambulances and two more police cars. We walk towards them, and the other police officers’ eye our guns suspiciously as they come out of their cruisers.
“It’s all clear in there,” Blake says by way of greeting to the sheriff.
“How bad is it?” Donovan wants to know with a frown on his face.
I make eye contact with him and try to convey the horror I just witnessed. “It’s bad, sheriff. Really bad.”
“Where were you?” Richard wants to know, and for the first time, I see the kid in him, tears well up in his eyes.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get here earlier. These things attacked everywhere. First, it was the hospital. Every available unit went there as soon as the call came in. I couldn’t just pull my men out in the middle of a fight. I’m sorry.”
“They coordinated.” I voice my worries.
“I thought I saw more dinosaurs than we killed,” Jose says next to me.
And I remember seeing more than thirty come out of the woods. By my estimation, we killed about eight or nine, so where did the others go?
“You’re kidding, right?” Sheriff Donovan asks, aghast. “Dinosaurs?” He raises an eyebrow, torn between humor and worry.
“You’ll see the dead ones in the playground, next to the dead kids.” I can’t help but spit out.
“Dinosaurs?” The sheriff is still skeptical.
“What were you fighting at the hospital?” Blake asks and crosses his arms in front of him.
“Maniacs. They were everywhere. We had to sweep….”
I make a disgusted sound and turn around. They had to only deal with maniacs? And they couldn’t come and help elementary school kids? I walk back towards the high school before I say something I might regret.
“Vivian,” Blake calls to me, but I don’t stop.
“I’ll go check on the high school.” I manage, not trusting my voice, not trusting to stop at those words.
“Vivian, we’ll need to talk to you.” The sheriff calls after me.
That’s the last straw. I hold up my hand, exposing my middle finger as I keep walking. If he wants to arrest me, he can come and get me.
I leave the voices behind, and they slowly fade away. I’m sure Blake will take care of whatever it is Donovan wants to know. After a few minutes, I jump the fence again, retracing my steps back to our school, stubbornly refusing to even glance at the smaller kids’ playground. My phone vibrates again. With a huff, I pull it out and stare at the number; it starts with 307, a Wyoming area code; I only know this because I called a few people there yesterday.
I really don’t want to answer the phone, but I have a rising suspicion, and after a few minutes of talking to my caller, my hunch is confirmed. We were not the only ones attacked.
The caller is a lady named Lynette Fairchild. I talked to her yesterday, and we promised each other to stay in contact if something came up. She is a schoolteacher and tells me that her school was attacked a few hours ago by maniacs and some kind of dinosaur looking animal.
She sounds very apprehensive using the word dinosaur, probably thinking I will either laugh at her or think she is crazy. But I do neither; instead, I tell her of our own ordeal while keeping the call short. I don’t mention the other phone calls I received because even if my suspicion of what they’re about is correct, I don’t know for sure, and the last thing we need right now are rumors.
I take this opportunity to turn the vibrate off on my phone as well. I should call Martin to tell him I’m okay, but I’m sure Blake has done that by now.
There is no plan as to where I’m headed; I just need some space. My head is spinning with what h
appened. With the things I saw and the things I did. I’m not regretting killing the maniacs; it was self-defense, pure and simple. But I’m a little taken aback by the way I clobbered the woman who attacked me.
I study my knuckles. The skin is broken in some parts, and others are bruising, but I still can’t summon guilt for what I did. I think back on how I felt when I shot the gang banger at the Pharmacy in CaliforniaThere had been remorse. I was wretched about it, even though that too had been in self-defense. But I wonder at what point did I change? When did I stop feeling guilty about killing the maniacs? After all, at one point, they too had been human.
When did I stop being remorseful? And does it really matter? This is our reality right now. I tell myself I’ll talk to Blake about this later and then remember another conversation I need to have with him. The one about him touching me all the time.
I sigh. The school is in sight now, and I can make out the blue and red lights of the cop cars finally arriving over there too. I don’t envy them their job or that of the EMTs. Which makes me think they’ll probably need some help as well. I do have some medical training, even if it is with animals. Hundreds of people, mostly kids, were probably injured; I’m sure the EMTs would appreciate any help they can get.
I start to jog over when I notice Jason come out of the gym building. He sees me and waves me over. I want to tell him no, but he has already turned back around into the gym. With an exasperated huff, I turn and make my way there. I wonder what he wants.
“Jason?” I call as I enter the gym.
I barely clear the doorway when strong arms grab me from behind, pinning my arms against my body.
“Get her gun.” I hear Ryan’s voice.
He is the one holding me. I scream out, “What the hell?”
During my training these past several weeks, I have developed reflexes and instincts I didn’t know I possessed. And they kick in full gear, even though my mind has a hard time processing that it is Ryan and Jason who are attacking me. Automatically I move my head forward to gain more momentum before sending it back full force. Ryan is taller than me, but he has me lifted off the ground, and I manage to head butt his nose. A satisfying crunching noise and a muffled curse let me know that I hit pay dirt; his arms let go of me.
The second my feet hit the ground, I twist around and kick him in the stomach with all the strength I’ve got. But he doesn’t go down. He lets go of his nose, from which blood spurts like a fountain, and tackles me. I guess him being a football player taught him how to take a hit and keep coming.
The force of his attack knocks the wind out of me, and I stumble backward into another person, whose arms clamp-like vises around mine. Ryan stumbles but regains his balance. His hand shoots forward, and he slugs me so hard in the face, my head spins to the left, and I hear bells ring.
“Bitch.” Ryan curses loudly.
He raises his hand again, but I also regained some of my composure. I use my abdominal muscles and borrow Jason’s strength, who is still holding me before pulling both of my legs up to kick at Ryan again. Hit by the full force of both of my legs this time, he stumbles back and falls over something on the floor.
I hook my right foot behind Jason’s leg while simultaneously twisting my arms up, out of his grip, and my hands find purchase on the collar of his shirt while his hands try to regain their hold on me. During our struggle, I managed to turn sideways. I pull him forward, using his stumbling momentum to throw him over my outstretched right hip. While he falls, I give him another hard shove for good measure.
My fingers barely grab my gun -stuck behind my pants, when hands take hold of my ankles, and I lose my balance. Ryan has crawled up to me and is literally pulling my feet out from under me. The gun falls from my hand and clatters to the floor as I tumble to the ground.
My arms pinwheel but are helpless to prevent the fall. All they can do is cushion it somewhat using my elbows. Hot white pain shoots up both of my arms, into my shoulders, blinding me for a second. Jason is on top of me at the same time.
His fist swings out, barely giving me time to lift my arm to block the blow, just as his other hand shoots forward, and his fist connects with my temple, stunning me. Before I know what is happening, the boys twist my body around. Ryan holds my legs, while Jason is straddling me, catching my flailing hands and tying them behind my back. I buck, unable to throw him off, I try to kick, but Ryan still has my legs in a death grip.
“Told you, we’ll get her.” Ryan brags loudly.
“After all this, I want a go too.” Jason grunts.
They turn me around. My arms and shoulders hurt from being tied back and my body weight pushing on them. Both boys’ faces are distorted in rage and triumph. I have known them all my life, and I have never seen these expressions on them before.
“Ryan, what the hell?” I try.
He laughs. “Don’t even start. We’ll have some fun with you and then make it appear like the maniacs got you.” He high fives Jason, who suddenly looks a little apprehensive, despite his words of bravado earlier.
“You are going to rape me?” I ask incredulously.
“You bet your ass we are.” Ryan laughs again. His voice is hard and mean. I have never heard him like this before.
“There are cops all over the place. Kids were killed, and all you can think of is….”
Suddenly he is on top of me; he scrunches my t-shirt underneath my chin, choking me while sitting on my stomach. His saliva sprays my face.
“Listen, you stupid bitch. I just had about enough of you. I tried to be nice, but apparently, you like it rough.”
Blake’s words come back to me. He warned me that he had overheard Ryan brag to his friends, he would ‘have me, one way or another.’ Bile rises as I remember how I hadn’t believed Ryan could have meant those words. But looking into his eyes now, I know he does. His pupils dilate in anticipation, and there is a mean curve to his mouth.
This is the face of a stranger. A face that does not belong to my lifelong friend, a boy I had a crush on for so long. I swallow while fear stirs inside of me, reaching for me with long tendrils that entwine with my intestines. In response, they tense and release, turning my insides queasy. With my arms bound behind me and pinned against two teenage boys, who are both taller than me, and who each outweigh me by at least double, there is not much I can do to protect myself.
“Yeah, that’s better. Fear me bitch.” Ryan lifts his hand and slaps me hard in the face. “That’s for the nose.”
He finally let’s go of my shirt, and I can breathe again. He is still pretty close to me, though. A plan forms in mind. I may not be able to stop them from what they will do to me, but I sure as hell can make it hard on them. With a mighty grunt, I sit up, throwing my head forward. My forehead connects with his nose again. He holds it with both hands as blood sprays out like a geyser.
“Bitch.” He hops around like Rumpelstiltskin while cursing at me wildly.
His voice sounds nasal, and I hope to God I broke his nose. Ryan turns and kicks me in the ribs. Pain explodes all over my body. My ears ring, and I literally see stars. Jason stands off to the side, looking somewhat apprehensive but with no indication that he is going to interfere on my behalf. Ryan lifts his leg off the ground to kick again. I close my eyes in anticipation of the pain to come when suddenly a shot rings out.
Bang.
Chapter 24
“Stop!”
My eyes fly open at the familiar voice. Colin! He stands by the door, his hands hold a Glock, aimed alternatingly between Jason and Ryan, who finally stopped moving.
“I won’t waste any more ammo on a warning shot, is that clear?” His voice is cold and calculated.
His face reveals nothing; he looks almost calm. But I notice the vein on his neck pulse, betraying his outward attempt at calmness, not that I think either Ryan or Jason would realize that though.
“Move over there.” He points at the other side of the room, far away from me.
The boys obey. R
yan tries: “Hey Thornton, we were just fooling around, we….”
“Shut up. Not. Another. Word.” Colin’s voice is deathly calm.
He sidesteps until he reaches my side. His free hand moves forward to help me up while he keeps his gun trained on Ryan and Jason. “Can you get up?”
I grunt in agony as his free hand, holding my elbow, lifts me effortlessly off the ground. My legs are barely any help; they are still wobbly from the pain. Colin waves his gun towards the exit while I lean heavily against him.
“After you, gentlemen.”
Ryan and Jason don’t have a choice but to walk through the door. I limp-walk assisted by Colin, who has put his free arm around my waist to keep me upright. Every breath I take is painful. I suspect that when Ryan kicked me, he broke at least one of my ribs.
“Hang in there, Tinker Bell,” Colin whispers in my ear, rising my ire and making me want to hit him. The usual sarcasm accompanying his stupid nicknames for me is missing, though. I wonder if he is purposefully trying to rile my wrath but can’t figure out why he would want to do that now. All I can do is grind my teeth and put one foot in front of the other, sustained by my irritation at being called Tinker Bell.
When we make it outside, cops and kids are everywhere. I almost recoil when I see Colin’s face out in the daylight. I’ve seen him angry before, but never like this. His face is still stony and unreadable, but his blue eyes are cold as ice. Death is written all over them. The ticking of his vein seems to get worse, and his body is coiled tight, like a cobra ready to strike.
My eyes follow his and find them trained on Ryan and Jason. His finger, on the Glock’s trigger, vibrates. And it’s then that I realize he is trying his hardest not to pull that trigger. I want to put a reassuring hand on him, but my hands are still tied behind my back.
The Rain | Part 1 | The Beginning Page 21