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.
When the sheriff stuffed me into his cruiser, I pushed his hands away. In one movement, he twisted my thumb back and had my face against the dashboard before I knew what was happening.
“ I will cuff you,” he said, the warning edge in his tone unmistakable. He let go, but he’d gotten his point across. I was not going anywhere except with him.
Glitch pushed me over and sat next to the door as the sheriff went around. Only then did I see the blood smears on his neck and shirt where Cameron had grabbed him.
We flew out of the parking lot, and somewhere in the back of my mind I realized I’d lost track of
Tabitha. She was so going to need therapy.
My vision blurred as hot tears pooled between my lashes. I gazed straight ahead. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” I whispered to myself.
MAC WITHOUT THE CHEESE
Sheriff Villanueva drove straight to the Sanctuary like everything behind us was on fire. By the time we got there, I was little more than a basket case.
Granddad ran out the side door of the church to intercept us.
The sheriff helped me out his side. “They’ve taken both Jared and Cameron out.” He looked down at me, his eyes soft with concern. “They’ll be coming after her next.”
Granddad rushed me into the church and down the steps to the headquarters. The archive room was on the other end, and I sat staring at it as members of the Order filed in. Some hugged me in assurance. But they were worried. I could see it in their eyes. We’d failed. That stupid war was going to happen, and we didn’t have Jared or Cameron to fight. We had me.
We were all dead.
I listened to the members of the Order for two hours. Well, kind of. My mind wandered to Jared. To
Cameron. To Brooke and Glitch.
Glitch was with me. He watched as Grandma cleaned the blood off my hands and went for a change of clothing. Even though his clothes were just as bloody, he stayed. And sat. We both stared at the archive room, our backs to the proceedings.
I just wanted answers.
“We’re just sitting here,” I said to no one in particular, but the entire council quieted. “We’re just sitting here waiting for something to happen. For someone else to get hurt.” I offered my grandparents a thoughtful look. I wondered if they were going to ship me off now. They’d stood by me, by the teachings of my father, through thick and thin and everything in between, and I could never repay them. Not in a thousand years. But they’d kept so much from me, and I wanted answers. For that, I needed an expert.
Someone who grew up with the knowledge of the Order. With its teachings.
I bowed my head, almost ashamed of what I was about to say. “I want to see my paternal grandfather.”
Because we had lost our supernatural advantage, I was ordered to sleep in the vault in case of an attack. It was huge and had plenty of air through a venting system. They could watch from the monitor, make sure I was okay. If I needed out for the bathroom, I could call out to whoever was monitoring me. This was getting ridiculous.