Death, Doom and Detention

Time slowed. I tried to say something, to warn her, but it all happened so fast, I froze, my mind not quite able to absorb the truth of what was happening. My vision was coming true right before my eyes. And I was back in the dream. Shocked and catatonic like a deer in headlights.

But something had changed. Cameron was there, and he hadn’t been in my vision. And unlike me, he did not freeze. He reacted with the decisive speed of a cobra. Before Hector could pull the trigger, Cameron had shoved Ms. Mullins out of the way, but that’s as far as he got before the gun went off.

The sonic boom of gunfire ripped through me, startling me into action. It did the same for Glitch. We both tackled poor Ms. Mullins to the ground as another round was fired. We tumbled to the floor, the eerie sound causing bile to surge hotly into my throat.

While screams of terror filled the room, Brooke rushed toward Cameron. Glitch reached out to grab her but missed. With a curse, he covered Ms. Mullins protectively. I turned to help Cameron as well, and my heart sank when I realized where the bullets were landing. Into Cameron’s chest. Point-blank. One shot after another. Before I could get to my feet, a third shot hit its mark. The blast echoed against the walls as Cameron finally stumbled back, grabbing his chest in pain.

Hector walked forward, each step full of purpose, full of malicious intent, the gun held steady, a smirk in place. He clearly thought he had Cameron beat. He clearly didn’t know Cameron.

Another shot. This time, Cameron didn’t stumble. With a speed too quick for my eyes to register, in a single movement too smooth for my mind to comprehend, Cameron lunged forward, knocked the gun aside, and twisted the boy’s head around. The next sound to meet my ears was the sharp crack of a neck being broken, and Hector slumped to the ground in a heap of torso and limbs.

In the next instant, Brooke was on Cameron. He caught her to him, used her for support as he fell to his knees first. But she was little use when he collapsed all the way to the floor. I got to them as quickly as I could. He groaned with the pain that etched his face, that welded his teeth shut.

Mr. Davis ran into the room, weaving his way around terrified students scrambling to safety.

It happened so fast. So impossibly, impossibly fast.

Had I just traded Cameron’s life for mine? For Ms. Mullins’s or Mr. Davis’s? He wasn’t even in my original vision. What had happened to change the events?

I blinked and Glitch was there, kneeling, putting pressure where Mr. Davis instructed. His hands were covered in blood faster than I thought possible. I heard Ms. Mullins as though from a distance calling for an ambulance. I heard Brooklyn screaming Cameron’s name, tears running in thick rivulets down her dark cheeks. I couldn’t focus on any one thing. It all hit me like a hurricane, strong and fast and overwhelming.

Cameron grabbed Glitch’s collar and jerked him forward. “This is what they want,” he said, his voice hoarse as he spoke through clenched teeth. “They got us out of the way. She’s vulnerable now. Get her to the Sanctuary.” Then he pushed. Hard.

Glitch pitched back and looked at me, his gaze frozen behind a shocked expression. I took over for him. I put pressure on one of the bullet wounds. The thick, warm blood seeped through my fingers.

“Glitch, damn it!” Cameron ground out between labored breaths. Now that he’d put Glitch in charge of my well-being, Cameron’s expression was murderous.

Glitch started forward slowly. He didn’t seem to want the job, and I could hardly blame him—but no way was I leaving Cameron like that. When Glitch took my arm to pull me away, I shook him off.

“We have to stop the bleeding,” I said to Cameron. Then, despite the fact that Mr. Davis was right there, I added, “You have to stop the bleeding. You’re different, Cameron. You heal really fast. Can’t you do something?”

He raised a bloodied hand from around Brooklyn and placed it on my cheek. “Not that fast, shortstop. And if I have to say it one more time, Blue-Spider, the last thing you will ever see will be the satisfied smile on my face as I snap your neck.”

Glitch took my arm again just as Sheriff Villanueva ran into the room. I looked up, relief flooding every cell in my body. Surely he would know what to do, how to help Cameron. But he barely spared Cameron a glance. He took my other arm as Mr. Davis gaped in confusion. When I fought to stay by Cameron’s side, the sheriff wrapped an arm around my waist and hoisted me off my feet.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Davis asked, appalled.

But the sheriff ignored him. He pulled his gun, handed it grip-first to Glitch, and said, “Shoot anything that gets close to us.”

Glitch nodded; then the sheriff whisked me out the door with him right behind us.

Before I could even protest, we were out the side doors.

Thank goodness the final bell rang twenty minutes earlier. The last of the kids to be bused were on the other side, and there were only a couple of stragglers leaning against the building on this side. They straightened when we passed them, startled.

This being dragged away from school was becoming a habit. I just wanted to get back to Cameron, to Brooklyn and Ms. Mullins.

“Stop!” I yelled, but the sheriff thrust me onto my feet, then dragged me to his car.

An ambulance pulled into the parking lot, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Right behind it was another patrol car, then another, all with lights flashing and sirens blaring.

“Glitch, we have to go back,” I said, pleading with him. He was scared. I could tell. He kept the gun pointed down and close to his body like a real professional.