Chapter Three
Hour 1, 26 Students Remaining
"Can you believe this? Why didn't anyone ask him WHY? Why didn't anyone stop him?" Wendy asked as she, Jarrell, and Edward huddled together in the second floor room 235, the Chemistry lab. "I don't understand – why didn't I?"
"I guess we were just all in a state of shock," Edward replied, "This doesn't really seem REAL, you know?" He looked down at his bag and slowly opened it, as if it were a bomb ready to explode. "I've got a blowtorch," he said in a soft voice as he figured it carefully. "I can't deal with this shit, man. I never even wanted to be in this class. My mom said she'd stop helping me out with rent if I didn't take it."
"It must be nice to live on your own," Wendy said dreamily, trying to distract herself from the craziness at hand. "My mom's such a BITCH, she never gives me any space at all."
"You guys, really," Jarrell cut in, "Why doesn't anyone rush our little bitch of a principal? Then we're not doing this stupid, crazy shit."
"Uh, Jarrell," Edward said, pointing to a note taped to his flamethrower. He slowly read aloud, "And if you get any ideas about rushing me, I have the remote control to bombs that can blow up the entire school – so I go, you all go."
"How much you think he's totally full of shit?" Jarrell replied, "I mean, come on, what is this, Saw IV or some shit? He's our principal, he went a little crazy, we all band together and rush him."
"All band together?" Wendy asked sarcastically. "Do you realize that, at this very moment, Cort Kensington and his friends have GUNS? The same kids that kept getting sent to the counselor's office cause EVERYONE thought they'd shoot up the school? I don't think they'll be interested in banding together – I think they'll be interested in shooting everyone they hate."
"I don't know," Jarrell said measuredly, "I don't think even Cort and Pacey can get caught up in this shit. Who's gonna play this stupid game? We wait it out 'til the cops figure out what's going on and then we're safe, man. We cool."
"Yeah man," Edward replied, "We real cool… Just as long as none of our classmates is fucking psycho."
"They're NOT," Jarrell said. "We've been in classes with these guys FOREVER. None of them are psycho."
"I wish I had your outlook," Wendy cut in, "But I'd rather head out and find a way out."
"I want to stay here… I'm not going out to get myself killed," Edward replied. "If you guys are insisting on heading out… well just make sure you come back if you find anything?" His voice showed a bit of pleading. "Please?"
"We will, Edward… We're going to find a way out, come back for you, and escape. Then the cops can come back and get the rest of the kids out. We're in. You coming, Jarrell?" Wendy asked.
"Yeah, I guess I'll come with you. Be careful, Ed…" Jarrell cautioned.
"I will be. It's cool," Edward replied.
Wendy and Jarrell reluctantly slipped out the door, turning one more time to take a glimpse at their friend. Wendy waved to him, and then the two continued to tread carefully along the hallway.
Edward crouched down under the lab table, curling his knees to his chest but feeling extremely girly for doing so. Who was right? Would people actually play this game out of fear or out of… wanting to anyway? He couldn't understand why anyone would want to shoot their classmate… It was a foreign concept. He'd never been particularly close to his classmates, with the exception of Wendy and Jarrell, but he didn't really dislike the others.
They would come back for him, and everything would be okay.
He felt like he had been there for hours when he heard the door open. He jumped up.
"Wendy! Jarrell!" He was cut off by a shotgun blast. Falling to the ground in shock, at first, he clutched his chest. What? No. Someone was… playing?
He looked up into the face of Brandon Briggs, who smiled.
"Burnouts don't belong," Brandon sniped at him and laughed. "Sorry. When I play, I play to win." He fired the shotgun again, and Edward Ross was no more.
The game was on.
