Time Bomb Page 6

  He could just turn his back on all of this and go back to pretending that everything was fine.

  No change. No worries.

  He could go home and wait until Frankie was ready to talk. Jasmine and all his mother’s friends would be gone. His brother would be done playing his music, and everything could just be normal.

  Only normal sucked, and he didn’t think he could live like this—not anymore.

  He was tired of who he was and what he wanted being pushed aside because it was too much trouble for other people to think about.

  Tad swallowed hard and walked to the hallway. Frankie had blown him off again and expected him to take it and be grateful.

  Put up or shut up. That’s what Coach always said. Put up or shut up.

  Screw that.

  It was time to blow up the status quo, and to hell with what happened next. People were going to start realizing that he could no longer be ignored, and Frankie was going to get a front-row seat for the show. Whether he wanted to or not.

  Tad looked back down at his phone and hit SEND.

  11:47 a.m.

  Z

  — Chapter 11 —

  Z STOPPED PACING and walked back to the window to look down at the ground three stories below.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  He’d come in through the field-house entrance. No teachers were around. He’d passed only a couple of freshman football players who acted like they were too cool to notice him stroll by.

  God, he hated this building. He hated the way it smelled of fresh paint and Lysol. Like it was new.

  Only nothing about this place was new. They could paint and clean all they wanted, but as long as it was standing, the same old crap would be underneath it all.

  Maybe he was playing with fire, being here now—watching the kids who walked through the front door thinking that everything would be okay if they just tried their hardest. He shouldn’t blame them for buying the idea that everyone would get a fair shake. But all they had to do was look around and they’d see what was really what. They’d get that there were no fair shakes. No second chances. You were judged as having potential or being worthless before you ever came through the front doors.

  Blond Homecoming Queen who had come up the steps earlier with her pink shirt and her perfectly brushed hair didn’t want to think about that. Because life was working just fine for her.

  Z spotted Mr. Casey walking from the faculty parking lot toward the school, and he gripped the edge of the window frame. How many times had he replayed Mr. Casey’s words in his head? Hundreds.

  Lazy.

  Disrespectful.

  Worthless punk.

  Had he cut classes?

  Yes.

  Had he blown off homework?

  Who gave a damn about anything some guy wrote two hundred years ago? Why the hell did that matter?

  Mr. Casey knew he didn’t give a crap. But he called on him for every single question. What character did what? What place did they go to for something? What did some colored light symbolize?

  Finally, “Think you’re too good to do the assigned reading, Mr. Vega? Did you have something better to do?”

  “Yeah,” Z had said, clenching his fists under his desk as everyone in the room had looked at their hands or out the window—anywhere but at him. He’d looked right at Mr. Casey. He wasn’t going to let Mr. Casey get to him. “Something like that.”

  “Well, you can stay after the bell so you can explain why you’re above doing the work that everyone else seems to find the time to do.”

  He hated everyone for jumping up and clearing out as fast as they could the minute the bell rang, and he hated Mr. Casey more for the way he’d looked at him—as if he was worthless—and for what he’d said and for the fact that he could say it and think he would never have to pay a price.

  “I told you not to do this.”

  Z spun toward the door. Kaitlin stood in the entryway. Her straight brown hair framed the frown on her face. “What are you doing here?” he said.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and stepped into the room. “I’m trying to keep you from doing anything stupid.”

  “You have to go home.” He hurried across the room toward her. “Get out of here, Kaitlin.”

  “Not until you tell me what you’re doing in Mr. Casey’s room.” She lifted her chin. The look she gave him was a lot like one that his mother used to give. “You didn’t return my messages.”

  “Maybe because I wasn’t interested in talking to you.”

  Hurt swam in Kaitlin’s blue eyes. He hated it, but he wasn’t going to back down. He couldn’t.

  Kaitlin bit her lip and straightened her shoulders. “Look. I know how hurt you are and how angry you felt when you got that letter—”

  “Stop!” he yelled. “I just want you to stop. I didn’t answer your message because I didn’t want you telling me what to do and what not to do like I’m some kind of charity case not able to take care of my own life.”

  Her eyes swam with tears. “That’s not what I was doing.”

  No. It wasn’t. But that wasn’t the point. “Then prove it.” He reached out and dug his fingers into her arm, and he saw her fear. He hated it. He hated himself. But he had no choice if he wanted to keep Kaitlin clear of what was about to happen. “Get out of here, Kaitlin. Now.”

  He pulled her toward the door, but Kaitlin yanked her arm away and stumbled back.

  “Are you deaf?” he yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  She rubbed at her arm and lifted her chin to look him dead in the eyes with the stubbornness that she’d shown that first day he’d driven her home. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  11:51 a.m.

  Diana

  — Chapter 12 —

  “I SEE EVERYONE ELSE has already left.” Mrs. Kennedy walked into the yearbook room and looked around. “I’m glad you moved the meeting up and that everyone got here on time. I have some gardening I want to get done.”

  Diana smiled at Mrs. Kennedy, pretending not to hear the impatience in her voice or notice the way she tapped her gold-sandaled foot. Mrs. Kennedy had been working in her classroom down the hall. Now that the yearbook committee heads were gone, it was clear Mrs. Kennedy wanted to leave.

  Diana did too. She glanced at her watch. Time had gotten away from her, but she was still ahead of her schedule for the day. “I can finish the rest on Tuesday if you want.” Diana started to rise, but Mrs. Kennedy waved her back into her seat with a laugh and a shake of her head.

  “It’s okay, Diana. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Finish whatever you need to. I love that you take your responsibilities so seriously. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, considering who your father is.”

  Trapped by the compliment, Diana settled back into her seat. “It’ll only take me five minutes. I promise,” Diana said. “And I’ll make sure to let my father know that you’re a fan.”

  Mrs. Kennedy tilted her head. “I’m a fan of hard work in all forms,” she said. “But I have to admit that the senator’s new education safety plan isn’t something I’m all that fond of. It’s McCarthyism all over again. I still can’t believe these are the kinds of laws we’re seeing proposed these days.”

  Diana forced a smile. “My father knows the bill isn’t perfect, and I’m sure he’d love to hear your ideas. With so much going on in the world, he thinks something has to be done to stop the growth of violence.”

  “I’m all for the law and order he and the president talk about.” Mrs. Kennedy sighed. “I just don’t think authorizing schools to violate students’ privacy is the way to do it. And when you ask students to police other students, you give them license to use learned biases against one another.” She pursed her lips and shivered. Then she shook her head. “Let’s just say I hope the bill gets voted down and leave it at that.”

  Diana nodded, even though she knew her father’s career hung on getting the bill passed. He needed a win, as did
the country.

  Mrs. Kennedy cleared her throat to break the silence. “Since we both want to get out of here, how about I make the copies while you get the sign-up sheet ready? Divide and conquer.”

  “Sure thing.” Diana handed Mrs. Kennedy the schedule with a practiced smile, then looked back at the computer screen as Mrs. Kennedy left for the copier. Thank goodness. Now Diana could finish in peace and quiet. She glanced at her watch again. Yes, it was way past time for her to leave.

  She printed the sign-up sheet and picked up the backpack resting near her feet. She then turned off the computer and headed out in search of Mrs. Kennedy to tell her she was finished. Only Mrs. Kennedy was nowhere to be found.

  This was just perfect. Diana should have insisted on printing the agendas. Then they would be done by now, and Diana would be on her way down to the media center. Once she made that stop, she’d be able to get out of this place.

  She looked at the clock on her phone as she went back to the yearbook room, trying to decide what to do. She had to get going. Maybe she could leave a note . . .

  “Here you go,” Mrs. Kennedy said as she strode into the room with her purse slung over her arm. At last.

  “Thanks.” Diana took the copies and placed them on the back table in a neat stack under the sign that said TAKE ONE. “And with that, I’m done,” she announced. “Sorry I kept you here so long.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Kennedy said with a smile. “Now we can both get on with our day. I don’t know about you, but—”

  The desks throughout the room suddenly rattled, and there was a deep rumbling somewhere. Mrs. Kennedy’s eyes narrowed, then widened, and she bolted toward the door.

  Diana’s panic spiked as something, somewhere, exploded.

  What was—? Diana grabbed the closest desk as everything in the room started to shake.

  Fire alarms shrieked.

  A ceiling tile crashed next to her as she rushed past the desks with her backpack clutched against her chest.

  That’s when everything came apart.

  The door frame cracked.

  Dust swirled.

  The floor shuddered again.

  Wood splinters and tiles rained down.

  Diana coughed and put her hands over her head as she raced toward the door.

  Books fell off shelves.

  The computer she’d been working on crashed to the ground.

  Metal and brick smashed together in one deafening roar. Something slammed against the back of her head, and Diana dropped to her knees. Desks slid toward her. She screamed for help as the floor shuddered yet again and tilted.

  Everything creaked and groaned. Terror clawed at her throat, even as she fought for calm and crawled toward the exit. No one would be able to hear her screams; still she yelled as she fumbled to find the pocket where she’d put her phone. She had to have her phone.

  A file cabinet crashed into the desks, sending them flying toward her. She pulled the bag close and screamed one more time. The floor tilted and every—

  We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.

  —Tennessee Williams

  12:03 p.m.

  Diana

  — Chapter 13 —

  WHY DID EVERYTHING HURT?

  Smoke. She smelled smoke.

  Diana struggled to lift her head and open her eyes. Small bursts of light danced in front of her. The lights faded, and all she could see were dark and hazy shadows.

  Where was she?

  Then she remembered the scraping of metal and falling bricks, and her heart slammed hard in her chest.

  The explosion. She’d been in the yearbook office on the third floor. And then there was an explosion, and she was still in the school. No. This wasn’t happening. She had to get out of here. She had to find her bag and get out of here now.

  Diana pushed herself up, got a foot off the floor, and smacked into something hard and cold above her. Oh, God.

  She raised herself up again and used her back to lift whatever it was with as much force as she could. Move. Please, God. Whatever it was above her had to move. Her heart pounded harder as she pushed against it over and over again. Only it wasn’t budging. Why couldn’t she push it out of the way?

  Move! She shoved one more time, but it didn’t give. Not at all. Not even an inch. She was trapped.

  Tad

  — Chapter 14 —

  TAD DUCKED HIS HEAD back under the table that he’d dived under the minute the building had begun to shake and the sprinklers had started pouring water. The table had shuddered as pieces of ceiling crashed on top of it, but it was still standing. He was intact. Unlike parts of the room he could see that had been wrecked by the explosion.

  An explosion. Something that should exist only in movies and on the news. And here he was in the middle of it. Frankie was probably in the building somewhere trying to get out, if he hadn’t done so already. Or maybe he wasn’t as lucky as Tad had been, and the ceiling or something else had fallen on top of him.

  Tad closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his heart pounded hard and fast and loud and . . . No panicking. Panicking was how the people in the movies ended up getting themselves killed. He wasn’t going to go down in this building while cowering under a science table. No way, no how. He just had to stop freaking out and figure out what to do next.

  Cas

  — Chapter 15 —

  FIRE ALARM.

  The sound pounded in her temples. Bwoop. Bwoop. Everything was ringing.

  That was wrong.

  Cas shouldn’t be hearing anything anymore. This was all supposed to be over. But her shoulder and cheek hurt. Something hard was digging into her side. Something heavy was pushing down onto her back, and the fire alarm was screaming.

  And she smelled smoke.

  Cas opened her eyes and closed them again as she coughed.

  Dust. There was lots of dust in her eyes and burning her throat. Fear punched through the confusion, making it harder to think. She couldn’t think, because nothing made sense. Everything was wrong.

  She closed her eyes, then snapped them open again.

  The gun. Where was the gun?

  12:06 p.m.

  Diana

  — Chapter 16 —

  DIANA LOWERED HERSELF back to the ground and took a deep breath to calm herself but coughed instead. Dust and smoke filled her mouth. She coughed harder as she rolled onto her right side so she could see if there was a way out in that direction.

  Nothing. She was blocked by twisted metal. The left was almost as bad. Light shone through some of the debris, but none of the openings was big enough for her to shove herself through. If she tried moving anything, it would probably shift other wreckage. The metal thing wedged above her could come crashing down and . . .

  No. She wasn’t going to think about that. Thinking about that wasn’t going to help her out of this. She felt around for the backpack she’d had with her. Nothing. It was gone.

  She couldn’t do anything about the bag. She had to focus and try to find a way out of here.

  She couldn’t go up. She couldn’t roll to either side. That meant she had to move forward or back.

  Coughing, she squinted into the dimness in front of her, then looked behind. It was brighter that way. Light was good, right? Light meant a way out.

  Z

  — Chapter 17 —

  THE SOUND HIT HIM FIRST. The wailing, high-pitched beeping.

  Z’s heart raced.

  His mouth went dry.

  A denial sprang to his lips as he jerked his head up and opened his eyes.

  Where was he?

  He’d expected to see nurses rushing in to answer the alarm. But he wasn’t in the hospital. His mother was gone. The siren wasn’t for her.

  Desks.

  Dust.

  He squinted and pushed himself up to his knees. A chunk of
something fell off his back as he looked up into the bright blue sky. He was at the school, and he shouldn’t be able to see the sky.

  That’s when he remembered.

  “Kaitlin!” He scrambled to his feet and shoved aside a desk. Where was she? “Kaitlin?”

  Maybe she ran out. Maybe . . .

  He saw Kaitlin’s hair first. Then he saw the massive gray-and-black steel air conditioner that had crashed through the roof and onto her.

  12:08 p.m.

  Diana

  — Chapter 18 —

  THE SPACE WAS too tight for Diana to get on her hands and knees. The best she could do was raise herself up onto her elbows and wiggle backwards inch by annoyingly and terrifyingly small inch.

  Something hard jabbed into her elbow. She yelped and forced herself to keep going, because staying here wasn’t an option. Not unless she wanted to die.

  “I’m not going to die,” she said, coughing as she scooted backwards again. She bit back a whimper as something tore through her jeans and into her flesh. Don’t think about it. Just keep going and get out of this.

  Her head spun as she tried to decide how far she’d come. A foot. Maybe a bit more, and that had taken forever. Or maybe it just felt that way. Her heart raced as she gulped in air and coughed from the dust and smoke. She shouldn’t have been here. She should have said Screw it when Mrs. Kennedy told her to finish up what she was doing.

  Diana looked over her shoulder. The light was brighter. She was going to get out of here.

  She moved faster, pushing with her arms and wiggling back with her hips. The ground beneath her slanted a bit. That made it easier. Come on. A little farther. The light was closer. Just a few more shifts, and she’d be free.