Those animals. He despised every one of them. They turned on each other like Sam knew they would. The gangs fell apart, and now they all lay out in the quad, starving and helpless.
Like babies. Disgusting, pink little babies, crying and waiting for someone to feed them.
He’d show them. There was a gas line to the boiler in the basement. He’d break it loose. He’d let it leak for a day, maybe two. Then he’d drop a torch from the third floor down the center shaft of the stairwell.
The babies would burn. He’d hear their wailing screams as the fire boiled the flesh off their bones. He’d probably burn too, but he’d be dead soon anyway.
Sam saw a pumpkin-colored glow coming from around the corner ahead. It was the fluttering light of a torch. He crept forward, careful to not make a noise, and peeked around the corner.
There in the front foyer, standing by the graduation booth, with their backs to Sam, were Will Thorpe and his skank friend, Lucy. Will held the torch while the skank tried her thumb on the booth’s dormant scanner.
Sam slipped his kitchen knife out of his belt. The fire’s light glinted off the blade’s serrated edge. He snuck toward them.
Revenge was only fifteen feet away.
The back of Will’s neck was exposed. Sam could see the bumps of his vertebrae nudging out from Will’s neck just slightly. He’d push the blade in between them and twist.
Ten feet. They still hadn’t heard him. He slunk forward.
This was too perfect. He had to suppress an urge to laugh.
Four feet. He tightened his fingers around the knife’s handle.
Two feet.
Sam heard the smooth SHIIICK of metal sliding against metal. The steel doors to the outside opened. Brilliant daylight gushed in through the doorway, brightening the entire
room. He winced and shielded his eyes.
Sam darted behind a nearby column and hid. He braced himself for men in gas masks and haz-mat suits. The soldiers were probably coming to slaughter them once and for all. He peeked around the edge of the pillar just far enough to see Will and the skank. They hadn’t moved. They stood there, like idiots about to be shot. Sam poked his head out farther. He could see the open door to the outside now.
A teen boy with white hair walked in. Sam couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The kid wore dark blue jeans and a ski jacket, and he carried a hunting rifle. He was followed by more white-haired teens, all wearing casual clothes and tot-ing guns. There must have been forty of them.
Sam glanced back to Will and the skank. They were just as dumbfounded as he was.
The kid in the ski jacket homed in on the two of them. His face brightened. He lowered his gun and walked toward them with a big smile.
“You got no idea how long it took us to get that door open,” he said. “You okay? You hungry?”
Will and the skank stared back.
“Don’t worry,” the kid said. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
“Where are the soldiers?” Will asked.
“Oh, they’re gone,” the kid said. “We came to get you out.” Sam felt small fingers touch his wrist. He jumped and spun around. A girl stared up at him. She had a round, wholesome
face and long white hair that draped over the shoulders of her down vest. She couldn’t have been older than thirteen.
“Hi,” she said sweetly.
Sam slowly snuck the knife down the back of his pants.
“Hi,” Sam said.
“You want some food?” the girl asked. She pulled a granola bar out of her pocket.
His pulse quickened at the sight of the small pistol clutched in her other hand. He smiled.
“Actually, uh… you got any more of those guns?”
