"Aiden!"
Ashley could barely hear the tinny sound of her own voice as Aiden's body crumpled, collapsing onto her. She felt her ankle twist inward as she failed to keep him upright. Wincing, she peered over his shoulder and watched, dry-mouthed, as the other students began fleeing in every direction, some too frightened to realise that they were heading right into the line of fire.
For the first time in ten years, Ashley began to pray.
But before she could think of her last words, the sound of the gunfire had ceased and the smell of burning rubber hung in the air like a noxious fume.
"Thank you," she muttered, unsure of which deity she had actually prayed to.
"Aiden, they're gone. Are you okay?"
With a grunt, she managed to push Aiden's heavy form off herself. He rolled onto the concrete, nary a word escaping his lips. Before she could see the growing pool of blood on the ground, Ashley knew. She felt her heart drop as she watched his eyes roll back into his skull.
The gunfire was the loudest thing Spencer had ever heard. Instinct was all that kept her from gaping at the car and the shooters; it drove her to her knees, closer to the ground, and she began crawling toward a large, fuzzy shape several feet away. She knew people were screaming, but the unrelenting staccato of the gunfire was all that ricocheted through her head. Strangely enough, the gunfire was the thing that was keeping her focused. A few more steps and she would be safe behind the block.
Her knees burned as she hurried toward the block. As soon as she pulled herself around the corner, she reached into her purse and fumbled for her cell phone.
She pressed two buttons quickly and dropped the phone into her purse. Tentatively, she stuck her head around the corner, fear surging in her chest as she realised that there was too much commotion for her to recognise anyone. But she had to know if they were okay, so she kept her head low and hoped that someone would hear her voice.
"Ashley! Glen! Cl—"
Her words were lost as a hulking figure came barrelling toward her. In his desperation, the figure had barely noticed when his leg smashed into Spencer's cheekbone, sending her reeling backward with a snap.
Spencer barely had time to brace herself before she heard the thud and her vision blurred.
He's going to be fine, Ashley coached herself, repeating it over and over again and allowing no other thought to enter her mind. He's going to be fine.
Pacing the dull hospital corridor, she forced herself to keep moving. The moment she stopped, she knew she would break down. And what Aiden needed right now was for her to be his rock.
Reaching the end of the corridor, she was so consumed with worry that she almost fell backward when a woman rounded the corner. Glancing up, she opened her mouth to apologise, but stopped short when she found herself looking into a pair of seething blue eyes.
"You," Paula said, her voice laced with unmistakable disdain. "Where is Spencer?"
"Spencer?" Ashley blurted out. Her stomach lurched. Up until this moment, she hadn't thought of Spencer for even a second. Not when the bullets were filling the air with blood, not when she was in the speeding ambulance, not when she'd watched the students of King High being wheeled into the hospital on stretchers.
Feeling her head spin, she stumbled backward and sank into a chair, ignoring Paula's hysterical demands.
Spencer's in the hospital. In this hospital. How could I not know? How could I have forgotten about her?
Ashley felt like she was going to throw up.
"Mum!" Glen's voice rang out from the other end of the corridor.
"Oh my god, Glen, are you okay? Where's Spencer? And Clay?"
Through a fog, Ashley watched as Glen ran a hand over his face, his features unnaturally taut.
"They're, um … I think you should go see them."
As Paula, Arthur and Glen disappeared, Ashley heaved herself out of the chair and started forward on shaky legs. She made her way to the nurses' station and asked for Spencer's room number. Forgetting to thank the nurse, she drifted over to the elevator, keeping one hand against the wall and not trusting herself not to fall. Stepping into the empty metal cell, Ashley feared the worst.
The cheerful ping! of the elevator announced her arrival on the third floor. Room 250 was just several metres away. With her heart in her throat and her legs wobbling on the unreliable heels of her shoes, she reached Spencer's room in all too short a time.
Just as her clammy hand gripped the doorknob, Ashley felt the tears burning her eyes. What if Spencer wasn't conscious? What if she was paralysed? What if she'd lost too much blood and the hospital couldn't find her type—
"Stop it," she hissed at herself.
Inhaling a lungful of air—and hoping that the oxygen would come with a bonus dose of courage—she opened the door. Crowded around the bed were Spencer's family, and lying propped up on pillows was Spencer herself.
The entire room seemed to expand. The walls were tearing apart and the furniture was flying, taking the rest of Spencer's family with them. All Ashley could see was Spencer, with a bandage around her head and a growing bruise on her right cheek. Her gorgeous dress was now replaced with a hideous hospital gown. The air rushed out of Ashley's lungs.
"Thank god you're okay!" she exclaimed, stumbling into the room, wanting more than anything else to put her arms around Spencer and make sure that she was actually all right.
But Spencer remained unmoving. Those eyes that used to be filled with warmth were now darkened with contempt. In a tone as flat as her gaze, Spencer said, "Go away."