This Is Where It Ends Page 10

  Rescued from death by a slipper, the Nutcracker fought, Autumn smiled, and my heart soared. I didn’t know if she felt the same way, but after intermission, when the lights dimmed, my hand crept toward hers. She looked at me, then squeezed my fingers. In the near darkness, we held hands for the rest of the performance.

  I was so happy.

  That was the first and last day we were careless with our feelings.

  Six weeks later, Mrs. Browne lost control of the car on her way to pick Autumn up from ballet class. Cause of death: exhaustion. Even at home, she worked long hours, and she barely slept. That night, frost had turned the roads slick, and the police said she must’ve dozed off before a patch of ice sent the car into a tailspin. She never woke up.

  At least I could be who I wanted to be at home. When Mamá started to lose everything that made her who she was, she told us she wanted to remember us happy.

  She wouldn’t want us to give up without a fight.

  I hope she’ll remember us as being loved.

  I slowly rise to my feet. I can accept what Tyler did to me, but I won’t stand by while he hurts Autumn. She’s been hurt too often. She needs to know she is loved.

  • • •

  TOMÁS

  The chain doesn’t snap into two. The bolt cutter barely moves under my grip. I should have gone to all my PE classes. The little strength I have is from a summer job placing fence poles. I always thought adrenaline would allow me to move cars and break wood planks with my bare hands. Maybe I’m not stressed enough. Maybe I’m stressed out of my mind.

  The handles of the bolt cutters slowly pull closer together. Gradually, gradually.

  Snap.

  I wince.

  Half a link done.

  Fareed smiles his encouragement. He turns the chain, and I place the bolt cutter. This time it’s easier. I know what to expect and give myself a better grip.

  Snap.

  With the chain cut, I place the bolt cutter on the ground and take one end of the chain from Fareed. We don’t need words for what we’re doing. As quietly but as quickly as we dare, we remove the chain from around the door handles—it loops through once, twice. The metal rings against the door, and every time it does, we hold our breaths. As long as we keep the chain steady, the sound shouldn’t carry.

  I hope.

  When we remove the last loop, Fareed steps over to the other side of the hall, where he curls the chain on the floor.

  I stare at the door. It’d be so easy to throw it open, but one set of doors isn’t enough. I pick up the bolt cutter and wait for Fareed to take his place at the next door. Lather, rinse, repeat. Opening two sets of doors will be better. More students will be able to get out. Besides, the police will be here soon. We only have to hold out for a little longer.

  I’m breathing heavily when the blades snap through the next link. No wonder Fareed looked so flustered before. My hands are shaking under the pressure.

  “C’mon,” Fareed says softly. “Only one more cut.”

  I nod.

  “If you want me to take over…” He gestures at the cutter, but I place the blades around the chain. He’s right—only one more. Besides, these doors are mine. If I do anything right today, it must be this. To give Sylv and everyone else that one chance in hell.

  Snap.

  • • •

  AUTUMN

  “I love you,” I say, louder this time. “You’re my brother. You’re my best friend.”

  My words push against the wall Ty has erected around himself. His gun is still pointed at my leg, and he might as well threaten my life. “You’re everything to me.”

  His eyes flick toward my face. As long as he’s focused on me, the auditorium is safe. As long as he’s focused on me, I might be able to get through to him. If I have to lie to him to reach him, I will.

  “I swear I never wanted us to change. What happened to us, Ty?”

  His eyes darken. “I lost everything.”

  “You never lost me,” I whisper. I need a hint, a glimpse to prove that despite his actions, he is still my brother. “You were the only family I had when everything changed. I knew it was hard on both of us, but you made me believe fulfilling Mom’s dream—my dream—was still possible.”

  If I’d known he felt as lost as I did, would I have done anything differently? It was Sylv who gave me strength, dancing that gave me purpose. But, “God, Ty, I missed you so much.”

  If only he’d have let me in. If only he’d confided in me.

  Ty blinks. “Believe in your dream?”

  “To get out of here.” A split second after the words leave my mouth, I realize my mistake. Ty begins to laugh, louder and louder.

  “I wanted to be your excuse to stay home. I never wanted to hurt you.” He shakes his head. “But you really don’t care, do you? After Mom died, I had no one anymore. Do you know what it feels like to be all alone?”

  I move out of the line of the gun, but I don’t break eye contact. “Of course I care. Of course I know. I lost as much as you did. But it didn’t have to be like that. You had Dad and me. You had Claire. You had friends.”

  “Lies! They all left me. I wanted to be part of your life, and you pushed me away too. It’s too late for regret now.”

  I clench my fists and swallow, anger and fear rushing over me. “How could I possibly push you away when you were nowhere to be found? You told me you’d protect me.”

  “You told me there was nothing keeping you here. Not even me.”

  Get lost, Ty.

  “So you decided Dad needed to teach me a lesson?” I mimic his voice, as I remember his grin and his careful calculation.

  “It was a mistake. I told you I was sorry. Why don’t you ever listen?” He squeezes the trigger. A bullet drills itself into the stage next to me, and I swallow a scream. The spell between us is broken.

  “It was your fault,” he says. “All of this, it’s your fault.”

  The Adventures of Mei

  Current location: On my way back

  >> Opportunity is a good school. I liked it there. I was happy. Whatever you might hear today, the school, our town isn’t the problem. Don’t you dare put the blame on us. You have no right to judge us.

  Comments: <37>

  Mei, how do you feel about the accusations that the school could’ve done something to prevent this? Did you ever feel unsafe there?

  OMG CAN’T YOU READ?!

  I always loved your dad’s classes. I hope all is well with him—and with you.

  Can you call our hotline to leave your name and phone number? It’d help us to know who is and who isn’t inside right now. You can also report yourself to one of our officers at the scene. They will be able to help you.

  Chapter Thirteen

  10:27–10:28 A.M.

  TOMÁS

  Timing is everything. If we open the doors too wide, it’ll be conspicuous. If we’re too slow, everyone won’t get out.

  Fareed takes up position at the second set of doors, and I crouch where Sylvia and I tapped out our code. I inch open the door. Sounds of whispers, sobbing, muffled cursing filter out.

  On the other side of the door, I see her. Her long black hair obscures her face, and she trembles as she moves slowly along the wall, her arms wrapped to her chest. But she’s alive. Relief stumbles through me. It’s all that counts.

  Her eyes are fixed on whatever’s happening onstage, and as I crawl through the doorway, I follow her gaze.

  The first thing I see are the bodies. Principal Trenton. Mr. Herrera, our Spanish teacher. Other teachers. Other students. After finding Neil, after hearing all those shots, all this death shouldn’t have surprised me. But it does.

  And at the heart of it, Tyler. Tyler, who I thought was harmless. He clutches his gun, with a grin that chills me to the bone. He’s dan
gerous, Sylv told me. What she didn’t say was clear too—she was terrified of him. Was this why? Did she guess what he was capable of?

  My fingers curl into fists, and everything inside me screams to attack him.

  But his eyes are trained on his sister. As long as Autumn distracts him, she’s keeping the rest of the auditorium safe. And with the doors open, we have more important concerns. We can get people out.

  I place my hand on my sister’s shoulder. Sylv turns. Her startled recognition and look of relief are the most beautiful things in the world. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. She returns the hug, which makes me feel as if maybe I’m not such a screwup after all.

  I point toward the door. She nods and taps the shoulder of the guy next to her.

  One door down, Fareed alerts the girl closest to him. We crawl into the auditorium as shoulder taps ripple through the room. To the credit of shock or fear or common sense, no one stands up and rushes the doors. Instead, students back away with care. Those who are sitting as if they are still at an assembly make sure their seats don’t creak when they fold up. They inch toward the aisles and the doors, poised for flight.

  Sylv works her way toward the next block of seats, spreading the word one quiet sign at a time. And although I wish she’d run, to get out of here and be safe, I’m glad to know she’s with me as we face what comes next.

  • • •

  AUTUMN

  “Oh, Ty…” My brother—the lost boy.

  In the auditorium, people are moving from their seats and toward the doors. I don’t dare look too closely for fear of alerting Ty. But as long as he’s staring at me, as long as he’s ranting at me, the people behind him have a chance to escape. And as long as I’m staring at him, I can pretend the rest of the auditorium isn’t here. I can open up.

  The night of Mom’s death flashes before my eyes. She was home between trips to Europe, and she was staying away longer every time. She was so tired. I didn’t want her to drive me—I told her I could skip my lesson, but she insisted. I had to practice. She did not believe in wasting time. Perhaps that was why she was always traveling.

  Perhaps she was only escaping too.

  After class, I waited for her. The other parents came and picked up their kids. I called home, and Ty told me Mom was on her way. But no one showed up. Not until the police found me dozing in the locker room.

  By then, Mom was already gone.

  And I was the only one left to blame.

  “I know it’s my fault,” I whisper. “Not a day goes by when I don’t miss Mom. I wish I could go back and redo that day. But I can’t. I can’t. I can only keep doing what she wanted me to do, and she wanted me to dance, Ty. You know how much she cared about that.”

  “And so you kept on dancing.”

  “It’s the way I remember her. It makes me feel close to her.” I grasp at the first memory that comes to mind. “Remember we went to see Othello last year? Remember how you drove us to the river after the show, and we sat there watching the sun set? The sky was perfectly clear, and everything was peaceful. It was the first time in a year I didn’t have to worry about Dad. It was the first time in a year I felt safe.

  “You gave me that. You saved me.” Let me save you.

  The hand with the gun trembles. He lowers it ever so slowly.

  For a moment, I break eye contact to glance at his gun. I can’t help but wonder if I could lunge and take it from him, if that’s the way to stop him.

  Ty tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and shakes his head. “No, Autumn.”

  He starts to turn, and time slams to a stop. In the aisles, students are crawling toward the doors, away from the cover of the seats. They’re targets.

  Before common sense—or survival instinct—kicks in, I reach out to grasp Tyler by the shoulders before he can see what’s happening.

  “Tyler, look at me. Listen to me.”

  The hand with the gun jerks. His finger squeezes around the trigger. The sound bounces off the walls, and I recoil. Ty’s face hardens.

  His arm snaps back, and the barrel of the gun bashes my cheek.

  Spots of light burst in my vision. Pain blossoms over my face. Blood pools in my mouth.

  I hold my hands to my cheek and whimper. The metal taste makes me gag. I spit.

  Ty bends over me so our faces are inches apart, and I can’t stop myself from shaking. Ty’s breath warms my face and chills my bones. “You’re too late to save me now.”

  • • •

  SYLV

  A gash opens across Autumn’s cheek, and blood trickles out. Tyler raises his hand and strikes her a second time. She squares her shoulders and looks up at him defiantly. Don’t fight it. Don’t fight him.

  We’ll fight him instead. Tomás, Far, and me. We’ll stop him. We’ll save everyone.

  We’ll create our own happily ever after.

  I reach out for Tomás’s hand—but he’s three rows down already. Around me, students are moving. I crawl toward a group of freshmen huddling together. I tap their shoulders, place my finger to my lips, and point at the doors.

  We’re not out of the school yet—not by a long shot. But when we are out of the auditorium, we’ll be closer. There’ll be exits everywhere around us.

  Across the room, Fareed catches my eye. Of course he’s here with Tomás. He nods in quiet support, and for a moment, I dare to believe everything might be—not okay. It’ll never be okay again—but possible.

  We’re escaping.

  Adrenaline rushes through me.

  The girl next to me looks to be the youngest of the group. Her eyes well up, but her face splits into a grin so wide it makes my heart ache. She leaves her bag and follows her friends between the seats. They slide past me toward the door.

  Holding hands, they slip out into the hall. They got out. Madre de Dios, it’s real.

  • • •

  CLAIRE

  From the outside, Opportunity High looks like an old-fashioned building, with its redbrick walls and large windows. Most of the classrooms are on the sprawling ground floor, with the library, science rooms, and study halls up on a smaller second floor. The gym and sports grounds are visible from this side of the parking lot. The auditorium is on the other side of the building, by the faculty parking lot.

  We pass Jonah’s car and Tyler’s, and grief stabs me.

  Matt’s figurine still stands proudly on Jonah’s dashboard.

  An officer stands, coordinating the emergency vehicles just beyond the cars. All around us, people are working quickly. The police have taken charge. Officers are setting up a roadblock. A SWAT team is circling the school. A large tent is being erected in front of the school, with vans and cars parked all over the grass.

  This looks more like a military operation than any drill JROTC has ever run. It’s overwhelming. It’s a siege.

  Our police car is ushered toward an area cordoned off by cones and caution tape. We park near one of the vans, and an older guy with a deputy’s badge waves us over.

  Our officer—I still don’t know her name—gives us a literal push in the right direction and mutters something under her breath, though I can’t make out what. Good luck maybe. Or I’m sorry. Either seems appropriate.

  I’m not sure I want to know what’s waiting for us here.

  “C’mon,” Chris says softly. “We can do this. Look there.”

  I push my head up. Behind the deputy are three familiar faces.

  At least Coach and the others are still safe.

  Jay Eyck

  @JEyck32

  I skipped school today. I’m not at #OHS. Pls stop asking me questions. I don’t know what’s going on.

  10:19 AM

  Jay Eyck

  @JEyck32

  I can’t believe it. Never thought this would happen at our school.


  10:19 AM

  Anonymous

  @BoredOpportunist

  @JEyck32 You’re so naive. Don’t believe everything people tell you. There’s always more to the story.

  10:19 AM

  Jay (@JEyck32) → Kevin (@KeviiinDR)

  Dammit, Kev. Tell me ur okay.

  10:20 AM

  Chapter Fourteen

  10:28–10:30 A.M.

  TOMÁS

  I crawl low, staying close to the ground, whispering so as not to attract attention from the stage. “The doors are open. Keep quiet. Alert others. Get out.”

  Other times, I simply tap and point. The auditorium is so large and there are so many students, I doubt we’ll reach everyone. But every life we save counts.

  Teachers who had sat with their classes signal students to get out as well, and for once I’m glad they’re here.

  The floor is hard beneath my knees as I creep forward, and the rough fabric scratches at my hands. Fareed has moved much farther down already.

  On the stage, Tyler leans over Autumn. It’s not just the gun that makes him imposing. He’s dressed as if he is going to a formal event. Even from the back, I can tell that his dress shirt is nicer than anything he could have bought in Opportunity. His pants are pressed. A cartridge with bullets is tucked into his waistband. He always dressed with care, but today he’s particularly polished. Did he drive to Tuscaloosa to pick out this outfit? Is it easier to kill people when you look good? I eye my torn jeans and T-shirt.

  I can’t wrap my mind around Tyler. I don’t want to. But I wish I’d done more than ram his head into a locker after last year’s junior prom. I’d do anything to end this.

  He was never one of us.

  In front of Tyler, Autumn pushes herself into his face. She doesn’t give any indication she saw me or the open doors, but I think she has. I hope she has.

  Autumn’s so quiet and so measured, I don’t always understand what my sister sees in her. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling protective of her. She makes Sylvia happy, and that’s all that matters.