School Shootout
Chapter Seven: The End (Part One of Two)
**Okay, I'm so sorry it's taken this long for me to update I just got so busy with schools and finals that I couldn't find the time. I want to thank SkyHighFan for their continued faith and enthusiasm about the story as well as everyone that is still reviewing. Have a Happy Holiday season.**
"With all due respect, Major, you're out of your jurisdiction."
It took every ounce of control Lennox had not to punch out the worthless SWAT commander. If it wasn't one thing it was another. It felt as if time had stopped and nobody was going anything-–except talk.
Truthfully, Lennox knew the SWAT commander was probably quite good at his job but when it came to one of his 'men' being in danger he wasn't always rational. Even so, he knew SWAT should have gone in by now and freed the student hostages. But he also knew that a hundred television cameras and millions of viewers tended to make a man more cautious. But damn it, if the commander didn't go in soon and stop this. He was going to do something himself. Maybe call in a favor to the Secretary of Defense—would that work?
He felt the urge to pound his head against his truck. Only stopping himself a moment before when he realized Ironhide probably wouldn't like it.
"Well, 'Hide I guess we're going to be waiting a little bit longer."
There was a long pause before Ironhide answered through his radio speakers.
"Sam, is resilent and has lived through more then I would have thought possible for a human. His actions today were as Mikaela stated earlier very heroic…even if he doesn't make it out he managed to save the lives of his classmates and that is what he will be remembered for."
Lennox stood staring at Ironhide; that was most he'd heard him say at one time. It occurred to Lennox that Ironhide was trying to comfort him. It did in a strange way but it also upset him for some reason.
The low grumble of the engine displayed Ironhide's feelings quite clearly. The bots were getting restless; they wanted to do something helpful. They had probably stood around waiting for news of friends and comrades more times then Lennox could ever count. Now they had to do it one more time…only this time they got to watch the ineptitude of humans and the absolute worse side of humanity—children killing children. That's what was really upsetting him.
"I'm going to go check on Bee and Mikaela…"
As I walked the short distance over to the yellow camaro my feelings of frustration and disappointment in humans only grew. I found I couldn't and didn't want to think about what was happening inside or the stories of how some of the kids and teachers had been brutally killed inside the school walls.
I heard a low soft melody coming from Bee's interior as I approached. It was strangely familiar but I thought I detected Cybertronian parts to it. Mikaela was it the passenger seat as usual but she was now clinging on to it and crying so softly I couldn't even hear her from right next to the car. Only the soft jerking motions of her shoulders and ragged breathing gave her away. I felt like I was intruding.
I placed a hand on Bee's hood.
"It won't be long now, these guys are pretty good—everything should turn out alright."
Even as I said the words I knew they sounded hollow. But I knew I had to say something, give some kind of reassurance. I started walking away slowly without glancing back but Mikaela crying haunted me anyway. I decided then that I was going to start calling people higher up on the command chain and see what I could do. Deep down I know it would be hopeless, nobody would be willing to break procedure with so many people watching, but I just needed to.
[meanwhile, back in the closet…]
I flipped on the lights and immediately shielded my eyes against the sudden brightness. I blinked furiously and from the sound of a low hiss from Trent he probably was too. Thankfully, it wasn't long before I could see again….I flinched when I first saw Trent. He had a massive black eye and his arms and hands were covered in blood. With a start I realized his blood was all over my hands as well. I stared at them in shock before practically throwing the knife onto the shelves and the wiping my hands off on my jeans as fast as I could. Ewww, ewww, eewww—gross.
I watched Trent carefully out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be looking for something. It final clicked when he nudged over a pile of cleaning rags---He was looking for something clean to bandage his hand with. I started looking around me and noticed the box that held the cutting knife had gym uniforms scrawled up in the corner of it. I went and cautiously opened it---I nearly sighed with a bit of relief when I saw those ugly gray shirts. I grabbed one off the top of the pile.
"Here," I held the shirt out to Trent.
"…Thanks…"
He carefully wrapped it around, grimacing as he tightened it.
"Looks like the bleeding might be slowing down…" I ventured trying to break the awkward silence that was starting to engulf us.
"Yeah, maybe."
I fidgeted. It was easier to dragged words out of Decepticons then it was Trent. I looked around the closet at nothing in particular.
"…So…Um…We should probably, you know—start planning a way out of here."
"Oh God, is that all you ever do---plan, plan, plan?"
"Hey, it's the best way to get out of a war-like situation is to have a well thought-out plan and to stick to it." I retorted as I recalled my very short and memorable lesson with Ironhide on warfare.
"Well thought out plan? I guess that rules out your plans."
I would have shot him a look of hate and anger but after everything I had gone through today I just couldn't bring myself to get angry at his childness and petty nature. Not to mention he didn't look very jockish and intimidating with a black eye and injured hand.
"If you have a plan feel free to voice it." I said as I went towards the door, checking it to make sure it was locked, before I started looking at the shelves again. I saw the knife where I had thrown it and starting wiping off the blood on it with another gym shirt from the box before retracting the blade and putting it in my pocket. Trent was almost finished bandaging his hand and for a minute I thought he wasn't going to answer me.
"We wait until they come back and then we jump them and get the hell out of here—sound like a good enough plan for you?"
"Yeah, there's only one problem how do you know they'll come back?"
"Cause they always come back."
Trent's words made me pause and glanced back towards him and I saw the way he was holding his ribs and suddenly his black eye made a lot more sense. I understood now why the closet was Riley's special place for troublemakers. I said a quick grateful prayer that I hadn't had to endure anything like that in the darkness.
I stopped my fruitless search of the closet.
"Okay…then….that sounds like a good plan…so we wait…"
…
…
….
…..
Waiting proved to be as stressful as being tied up had been. Neither of us spoke. It was like some unwritten rule we had agreed upon.
I wished I had worn a watch today. It seemed like we had been waiting for hours but I knew it was really only a fraction of the time. I found myself thinking back to all the things I wanted to say to Bee and Mikaela and my parents and even Miles—I had been so distant to him since Mission City. I spotted a schedule log and clipboard hanging from one of the shelves. I reached up and grabbed it a small pencil slipped out of the clip. I bent down and picked it up then found a blank sheet and started writing.
When I finished the letters were full of writing and though they were a little smudged in places and a some areas showed a great deal of erasure marks I knew they would appreciate them and just having writing the letters made me breathe a little easier. It was amazing how much I never gotten the chance to say to them.
"Hey, Sam, you done with that?"
Trent's voice startled me for a moment; I had forgotten he was there. I looked where he was pointing and was even more startled to see he was pointing to the clipboard and log sheets.
"Um…Yeah…"
I picked it up and brought it over to him. Trent stared at it for a long time before he began writing. I tried not to stare. I folded my papers up and placed them deep into my back pocket. I listened to the scratching of the pencil as I waited. It was little odd to think of Trent writing his heart out on a piece of paper. But he had parents too, maybe not the best of papers judging by his behavior but I hoped that if anything happened they would get his letter. No parent should have to wonder.
When he finished we went back to our silent vigil. It wasn't long before we heard the doorknob rattle and the sharp click of it unlocking.
Trent motioned me out of the way as he silently slid over beside the door. I let out a slow breath as I felt my muscles tightening. I moved closer to the door as well. I knew Trent could normally take anyone in the school but he wasn't in prime fighting shape. The moment the person stepped in Trent good hand came up into a fist and punched him in the face. He staggered back, away from Trent, and towards me. I grabbed onto his shirt and threw him into the wall and let loose a punch of my own. I distantly realized it was Steve before I felt pain explode in my knuckles as I made contact.
"Awww, God, awww…."
Trent was beside me in the next instant, giving Steve another punch, and another, and another…
"Enough, enough, TRENT, he's out cold…Stop."
Trent finally stopped and I could see Steve lying on the floor not moving. For a moment I thought he was dead before I realized he was still breathing. I belatedly thought of the small knife in my pocket. I was glad I had the knife. Lord only knows what might have happened if Trent had hat it.
"Alright let's lock him in here and get moving before Rilson notices he's missing."