To Claire, the shot was inevitable, like the end of a cheesy movie..
To Courtney, it was a shock, something that did not happen to good children like her who did as they were told.
To Duncan, it was something that happened to him many times before, something he wanted to never have happen again.
To Noah, it was merely very painful.
Chef smiled his yellowed grin and slid into the shadows, his gun aimed toward another victim.
Courtney screamed, Duncan crouched to Noah's aid, and Claire stood there with her eyes widened from fear.
"He shot Noah," She said thinly.
"Come on, Claire, we've got to help him. He might be dying."
"He might be dying.." Then the terrible meaning of the words struck her, as if the bullet had pierced her own skin rather than Noah's. "He may be dyeing!"
She knelt to Noah's side and looked at the blood seeping rapidly from a hole in his jacket.
Duncan picked up the smaller teen and Courtney opened the door to the cabin.
They carried Noah into the bunk room and laid him down on one of the bunks.
Courtney looked pale, but she stayed with Duncan and the others.
There was another gunshot.
Courtney raced toward the sound, outside toward the car.
The wheels had been shot.
She ran back inside and sat on the couch, focusing on the fire. This usually calmed her, focusing on something. This time, however, it did not.
Duncan came out to sit near her.
He was surprised when she leaned into him and cried on his chest.
Claire looked at Noah. He was groaning with pain and clutching his arm. "Noah, can you take your shirt off?"
"What, why?" He looked at her suspiciously.
"Because I need to bandage your arm!" Shock at his reply stood out on her face.
"It doesn't need to be bandaged.
"But it does!"
"I'll do it myself! Just leave me alone." Real fear outlined his face now.
"Noah, just let me, please. I won't hurt you."
"That's not what I'm worried about. " As he said this, he began to remove his jacket, and the long-sleeved shirt beneath that.
Then, when she stared at his wound, realization struck her.
She looked at the bloodied mess, at the sturdy man's body with the wasted, underdeveloped arm..
"Okay, you can stop looking now." He said, irritation clawing at his voice.
Claire did not even blink. She simply stayed frozen, looking at his arm.
"Seriously, the show ends at 11 o' clock, next freak showing is at 12."
She didn't move.
"Say something!"
"There's nothing to say."
Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
There was another shot. This time, it penetrated glass.
Courtney immediately stood as soon as the shot was fired. she knew where the bullet was, and she knew where to go.
Duncan followed Courtney into Bette and Buck's room.
There lay Buck, and Bette was standing over him. "Bruce?" She had her hands covering her face. Bette knelt down to her husband's side, gingerly removing her hands from her face. "Bruce, are you okay?" She stroked his hair and held his hand.
But Bruce's black eyes would never again see her.
"Bette, is that you?" He groaned, the blood pouring from his head filling his eyes and blinding him.
"Bette, are you okay?"
She smiled and hugged her husband close. "Oh, Bruce! You're okay!"
Bruce slowly moved his hand to her shoulder, then to her back. "Bette,"
"Yea?"
"I love you."
At that time, Courtney and Duncan felt that they should leave the two to be alone, so they walked back out to the main room. "Duncan, what are we going to do?" Courtney asked, sitting down on the couch once more. "I'm scared."
"Babe," he answered. "I don't' have any clue what we're going to do, but I really don't' want to die here." He grasped her around her middle and sat her on his lap. "If I do die here, I'm going to die a happy man."
"Why?"
"Because I'm with you." He grinned as he said this, making it less dramatic, but every bit as sweet.
"Duncan, do you really mean that?"
"Well, duh!"
She wrapped her arms around him and nuzzle her nose into his neck. "That's so sweet, " She leaned back and looked him straight in the eyes. "For an ogre."
