Brittany and Santana desperately ran trying to find freedom. They had just passed a geometry classroom when Brittany screamed and let go of Santana. Frightened Santana saw that she had slipped in a pool of blood and was now covered in it. Hastily she helped her up and continued to run.

"Come on Britt, we have to get out of here." Santana urged her as they ran. "Think of Artie."

The blonde thought of her loving boyfriend; all their happy times together, all the happy times they had yet to have. She pushed herself to keep running. Suddenly the Latina grabbed her friend and slammed her into a small alcove in the wall where the water fountains were and held a hand over her mouth to silence her. They watched with wide, scared eyes as Ken strolled past waving his gun and whistling merrily as if this were some happy go lucky thing. They watched him pause and listen to something before starting his walk again. Once he was around the corner they jumped out of the alcove and ran towards an open classroom. They closed and barricaded the door and fought to open the window.

"Come on, use your muscles!" Santana urged as they struggled.

"I am, it's just so stubborn." Brittany argued.

Finally the window opened. Santana let Brittany go first before climbing down herself. When they were safely on the ground they hugged each other tightly in happiness which was short lived when they remembered that their friends were still inside.

"I don't want to leave." Brittany said sadly.

"I know Britt I don't either but we have to. Everyone will be fine. We have to go though." Santana said pulling her arm. "We'll see Artie."

This perked the blonde. She nodded with a happy smile and allowed Santana to pull her away from the building.

David guarded Kurt and Blaine from behind as they ran while Sam guarded from the front. They had all heard the shot that rang out and hoped and prayed that Puck was okay. Sam spotted a set of stairs and told them all to stay while he checked to make sure it was safe. David opted to go with him to give him some back up. Blaine and Kurt watched nervously as their boyfriends disappeared down the staircase.

Looking around the two jock saw no one around and called softly for the two to come down. Slowly Blaine walked down the stairs completely pale with wide, frightened eyes.

"Blaine, where's Kurt?" Sam asked.

Blaine just shook his head. Sam rushed back up the stairs and met a sight that he never wanted to see. Dale was holding Kurt by his hair and pointing his gun at his head.

"Hi Evans," he greeted cheerily.

"Let him go." Sam ordered softly.

"You're not in a place to make orders Evans," Dale stated pressing the gun harder against Kurt's temple. "I am."

"I was never mean to you man, I was nice." Sam tried to reason, his eyes never leaving Kurt.

"I know, you were much better than those other douchebags. But you're still a jock." Dale said simply.

"Please," Sam begged. "Let him go and take me."

Dale looked like he was considering this. He took his hand from Kurt's hair to grip his hi arm and walked him towards Sam only to toss him down the stairs. Kurt screamed and before Sam could rush to catch him dale grabbed Sam's arm and yanked him back. Instead of Kurt crumbling at the bottom of the stairs he heard a soft grunt and sighed thankfully, David caught Kurt. Dale stepped back with Sam and moved to lead him down the hall he'd just come down.

"Why are you guys doing this dale?" Sam asked.

"Because we've had enough of being bullied by douche jocks for no reason!" Dale growled.

"But this isn't the answer." The blond argued.

"Yes it is, it teaches them that we are stronger." The shorter male stated. Sam noticed his grip loosen slightly and the gun that pressed against his side seemed to not be so firmly pressed.

"Fighting with guns against slushies isn't a fair match." Sam said distracting him as they walked.

"I don't care, it teaches them not to mess with us." Dale spat.

"You've killed innocent people though. Even people who didn't know you. All the people you've kill have parents just like you." Sam bit his lip. He needed to take this chance while he had it.

"None them matter, they're just numbers on our score board." Dale's words made Sam sick. But he was distracted enough for Sam to take his chance.

He twisted out of Dale's grip and quickly ripped the gun from his hands. Dale stared at him in shock as Sam pointed the gun at him.

"Those people are not numbers!" Sam told him. "This isn't a game! Those are real people with families that are dead!"

Sam grabbed Dale's shirt collar and yanked him closer, he took the string out of the hoodie he wore under his lettermen's jacket and tied it around Dale's hands all the while thanking his parents for forcing him into boy scouts. He then started to drag Dale back towards the stairs. As they descended the stairs Sam cautiously watched out for sign of the other two. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he saw that Kurt, Dave and Blaine were gone. Dave likely forced the two to leave rather than have them wait around like sitting ducks. Keeping a firm grip on Dale and the gun Sam headed down the hall.