Filed to story: Brace Face Betty Drama Story
Gingerly, I step over him, crouching down, hurrying toward the librarian’s desk, taking cover behind it. Blood, so dark it’s almost black, pools on the floor there. I risk a quick glance around the side of the desk and find Mrs. Peters lying on her stomach, arm stretched out in front of her, a frightening amount of blood oozing out from her chest. The left lens of her glasses is shattered, her dark eyes staring off into spa-
She blinks, and I fall back on my ass, nearly colliding with an overstocked book cart. “Fuck!”
Her hand opens and closes, reaching for me, and I hold my index finger to my mouth, miming for her to stay silent. Her eyes close anyway, a wet rattle coming out of her mouth, and she falls still.
“You don’t have to do this,” a female voice whispers, close, maybe only two or three stacks away. “I’m sorry! I really am. I didn’t…I didn’t even think you cared.”
A male voice responds, hard and cold. “Didn’t think I cared? That’s the problem with you, isn’t it? You never fucking think. You just do whatever the hell you like, and fuck how your actions might affect anyone else. You’re so fucking self-centered.”
“Come on. Just listen, okay. Okay. Yeah. We can go back to how things were. Nothing has to change. It’ll be the same as last year. We’ll go on that trip-“
“SHUT UP! Just shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch! You think I’d take you back after what you did?”
I can barely differentiate between heartbeats as I hurry out from behind the desk, skirting around Mrs. Peters, in the direction of the voices. It takes everything in me not to charge around the stack and launch myself, fists flying, but I need to see. To assess the situation. I could end up ruining my only chance at surprise if I fuck this up. I straighten, holding the empty gun in my hand, and I peer around the tall stack, holding my breath.
Kacey Winters is in a heap on the floor, her back pressed up against the wall, her face red, trembling so hard her shoulders are visibly shaking. Around her, a puddle of yellow liquid is spreading, soaking through her cheerleading skirt. She sees me, her eyes going wide…
…and then the guy with the semi-automatic hunting rifle pointed at her head curses, spinning around to face me.
I react, throwing up the gun
I’m holding, even though it’s empty. “Steady. Steady, Leon. Just take a breath, man. We do not have to fucking do this.”
BETTY POV
“He’s not coming back. He’s the only one who knows we’re in here, and he’s not coming back. We’re all going to fucking die.”
Sophia hasn’t stopped freaking out. Neither have I, but she’s too loud in her panic, and she won’t shut the hell up. The sound booth is small-nothing more than a cubicle, really. The three of us are all trying to pace at once, frantically trying to get our cell phones to work, but none of our devices can get a signal. The entire network seems to be down.
“He will come back,” I say tightly. “Marcus won’t just leave us here. He’ll come back for us when it’s safe.”
“He’s probably already dead. You heard all those shots just now.”
“Sophia, I swear to god, if you say one more thing about anyone dying, I’m going to kill you myself,” I snap.
Alicia gasps, hugging Sophia into her side, giving me a baleful look. “Threats aren’t constructive here. Neither is talking about Betty’s psycho boyfriend dying. We all just need to stay quiet. We need to stay calm.”
“I know. I’ve been saying that for the last ten minutes. Can you…fuck, both of you. Can you please just sit down? The three of us bouncing around in here is making me crazy.”
“You’re moving about just as much as us,” Sophia moans around her tears. “it’s not like-“
DUM DUM DUM!
The loud thuds fill the sound booth, and all three of us shriek, grabbing each other’s hands. From outside comes a demand that sends panic skating up my spine: “Let me in!”
“Are you the police?” Alicia yells.
“No, I’m not the fucking police! I’m standing out here in the wide open. Let me in, for fuck’s sake!”
I recognize the voice. It’s been haunting me for the past nine months, forcing me to relive the most traumatic thing that’s ever happened to me every time I’ve heard it in the hallways of Ravenshire.
“That’s
Jacob,” Sophia says, sniffling. “Jake, is that you?”
“Yes!”
“Prove it,” Alicia demands.