I am making this up as I go along, so it's probably not going to be the
best chapter. Also: I'm not sure exactly whether Lizzie would actually be
included in the curse for stealing the stolen medallion from Bill in her
past life, but it's just a guess.
CHAPTER FIVE: Bloody Brilliant
It took a second for Lizzie to react. Then she was out of her seat and out the door, Bill, Mack, Doorington, Barbierossa and the majority of the smarter student body following. (The stupider ones hadn't realized what was going on yet and were still lolling in their seats discussing cafeteria food.)
Skidding outside, Lizzie ran on to the field and scrambled up the bleachers, disturbing the couples beneath with her stomping. Mack was too drunk to gain a foothold and thusly slipped and fell, but Doorington and Bill rushed up to help her and Barbierossa followed. The Lunch Councils were not as lucky. Since they were such a big group, they were pushing this way and that and only the president managed to alight onto the bleachers.
All too soon, Lizzie was at the top. There was no place to go, no place to hide. Barbierossa and the president were closing in. She turned to Doorington and Bill, then looked up at the tall commentator's stand used for football games towering above her. She gulped.
Bill seemed to follow her train of thought. "Do you-are you . . ."
"Yes," she stuttered. "It's our only hope. Come on, fellows. Give me a boost."
With seconds to spare before the two villains below reached them, Bill and Doorington each seized a foot and lifted her up. Lizzie felt herself swaying precariously in the wind, but she held on to the railing on the bleachers with all of her might. Once she was high enough up, she grabbed onto the side of the stand and hosted herself up higher until she dropped into the box and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Then, realizing that there were still allies to save, she swung up to grab Bill's hands and tried to lift him up.
But she couldn't. And not just because he was a lot heavier than her. Barbierossa was pulling on his legs from below, taking care not to drop the Bill's medallion. Suddenly, Bill fell, bringing Lizzie with him. The two landed on Barbierossa, who grabbed Doorington and the president as they all tumbled down to the unforgiving earth below. Lizzie heard a crack as she felt a wrenching pain in her leg. It was broken.
There was still a battle to fight. Fists raised, she glared menacingly at Barbierossa and the president, but the former simply pulled out a knife and sliced her hand, spilling blood onto the medallion. Then he turned to the injured Bill and did the same, crying "Blood by blood undone!"
As Bill had explained to her, she had stolen the medallion from him, so she was cursed as well. Lizzie would had pondered this had she not been facing the president now as Barbierossa basked in the warm glow of winning a centuries-old campaign.
"Please-" she begged him. "You don't understand. Bill and I . . . let's just say we go back a long way. Please don't take him away from me. Please."
But the president did not relent. Lizzie had never realized how cruel and hardcore the Lunch Councils could be until he drew a gun. Lizzie was ready to die for Bill, but the student turned on the teacher and shot him. Poor Bill didn't have a chance.
He was dead. Dead. Everything was lost. And it was all Lizzie's fault.
She draped herself over his body and cried.
CHAPTER FIVE: Bloody Brilliant
It took a second for Lizzie to react. Then she was out of her seat and out the door, Bill, Mack, Doorington, Barbierossa and the majority of the smarter student body following. (The stupider ones hadn't realized what was going on yet and were still lolling in their seats discussing cafeteria food.)
Skidding outside, Lizzie ran on to the field and scrambled up the bleachers, disturbing the couples beneath with her stomping. Mack was too drunk to gain a foothold and thusly slipped and fell, but Doorington and Bill rushed up to help her and Barbierossa followed. The Lunch Councils were not as lucky. Since they were such a big group, they were pushing this way and that and only the president managed to alight onto the bleachers.
All too soon, Lizzie was at the top. There was no place to go, no place to hide. Barbierossa and the president were closing in. She turned to Doorington and Bill, then looked up at the tall commentator's stand used for football games towering above her. She gulped.
Bill seemed to follow her train of thought. "Do you-are you . . ."
"Yes," she stuttered. "It's our only hope. Come on, fellows. Give me a boost."
With seconds to spare before the two villains below reached them, Bill and Doorington each seized a foot and lifted her up. Lizzie felt herself swaying precariously in the wind, but she held on to the railing on the bleachers with all of her might. Once she was high enough up, she grabbed onto the side of the stand and hosted herself up higher until she dropped into the box and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Then, realizing that there were still allies to save, she swung up to grab Bill's hands and tried to lift him up.
But she couldn't. And not just because he was a lot heavier than her. Barbierossa was pulling on his legs from below, taking care not to drop the Bill's medallion. Suddenly, Bill fell, bringing Lizzie with him. The two landed on Barbierossa, who grabbed Doorington and the president as they all tumbled down to the unforgiving earth below. Lizzie heard a crack as she felt a wrenching pain in her leg. It was broken.
There was still a battle to fight. Fists raised, she glared menacingly at Barbierossa and the president, but the former simply pulled out a knife and sliced her hand, spilling blood onto the medallion. Then he turned to the injured Bill and did the same, crying "Blood by blood undone!"
As Bill had explained to her, she had stolen the medallion from him, so she was cursed as well. Lizzie would had pondered this had she not been facing the president now as Barbierossa basked in the warm glow of winning a centuries-old campaign.
"Please-" she begged him. "You don't understand. Bill and I . . . let's just say we go back a long way. Please don't take him away from me. Please."
But the president did not relent. Lizzie had never realized how cruel and hardcore the Lunch Councils could be until he drew a gun. Lizzie was ready to die for Bill, but the student turned on the teacher and shot him. Poor Bill didn't have a chance.
He was dead. Dead. Everything was lost. And it was all Lizzie's fault.
She draped herself over his body and cried.