Her whole face lights up. Then she starts sobbing. I pull her close, smoothing her hair and holding her while her shoulders shake.
“It’ll be all right,” I say softly. “You’re both safe now. You’re both alive and you’re both safe.”
She looks up at me, her face tearstained. “I—I watched his friends die.”
• • •
AUTUMN
“I love you, you know. I only wanted us to be a family. That’s all I ever asked of you,” I say.
Ty uses the gun to push a wayward strand of hair out of his face. He’s sweating so hard, the gel won’t hold. With his free hand, he polishes the blood off the bracelet.
“It’s all I ever asked of you too,” he says. His voice is calm, and the madness fades in his eyes. “We should have been there for each other.”
He releases my wrist, and my knees give way. I slide down the wall to sit next to Tomás’s body.
Ty sticks the gun into his waistband and takes off his blazer. He jerks his head in Tomás’s direction before he pins me with a stare. “The world is against us. You need to understand that before it kills you.”
It’s rich, coming from the kid with the gun. But his monotone leaves me far more afraid than his raging ever did.
“Give in, Ty,” I try. “There is nothing left to gain from shooting anyone.”
“No, there isn’t,” he says. He neatly folds the jacket and places it on the floor. He retrieves his gun and sits down in front of me.
The footsteps and voices have reached our floor. The officers are still too distant to hear what’s being said, but they’re moving with more confidence now.
“You won’t kill me.” A hint of panic creeps into my voice. “We’re family. That must count for something.”
“It does.” He takes off his watch and stares at it. I wonder how much time has passed. Minutes. An hour maybe. It feels like days, an eternity. It’s impossible to imagine the world around us has continued its normal rhythm. Ty folds the watch and puts it into his pocket. “Our family was everything to me once.”
“It’s everything to me too.” There are so many things I would have done differently if I had the chance.
Ty stares at me. I want to scramble to my feet, get away while I still can, but the barrel of his gun tells me to stay. “Who will mourn you, Autumn?”
His question and my answer leave me numb. Apart from Sylv, no one will mourn me.
I stand. “The police will be here at any moment. This’ll be the end of it, and you will have accomplished nothing.”
He stares at me over the barrel, and the corner of his mouth twitches. A smirk. Then a smile—a smile full of delight and mischief.
When he pulls the trigger, I feel the shot rather than hear it. Pain overwhelms me. The floor opens up around me. The last thing I see before I fade is Ty turning the gun on himself. The last thing I hear is Ty saying, “I just don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Then he blows his brains out.
CJ Johnson
@CadetCJJ
The daylight is too bright here at #OHS
10:49 AM
CJ Johnson
@CadetCJJ
I hate this world sometimes.
10:49 AM
CJ Johnson
@CadetCJJ
But my brother is alive. We’re lucky.
10:50 AM
Chapter Twenty-Five
10:50–10:53 A.M.
SYLV
At the sound of the shots, I shiver and curl up. The door slams open against the wall, and I scream. I scream, but Fareed pulls me in and smothers the sound. The smell of blood and smoke is overwhelming.
Three police officers barge in, weapons at the ready, shouting for us to raise our hands.
Fareed slowly releases me and follows instructions. One of the officers raises the visor of his helmet, but he doesn’t put down the gun.
“Are you armed?”
“No, sir,” Fareed says.
I merely shake my head.
“How did you get here?”
“We opened the door of the auditorium,” Fareed says. “My friend and I. I was the one who called 911 from the principal’s office.” He continues, but the words sweep past me. I was there—I don’t need to relive it.
I glance at the doorway. The other two officers have completed their sweep of the room and seem satisfied. Sounds filter in from the hallway. And with every set of footsteps, my heart soars and drops. Maybe Fareed was right—maybe Tomás did know what he was doing. Maybe I imagined the gunfire. It won’t be the first time I underestimated my brother; he’s always had a knack for getting away with anything.
Someone knocks on the door.
I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Miss.” One of the officers kneels down in front of me and places what is surely meant to be a comforting hand on my shoulder. My skin crawls and I shudder, shaking him off.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me.”
Fareed quickly says, “Sylv, it’s the police. It’s okay.”
The officers talk with each other before one turns and disappears again.
“We’ll get you out of here.” The officer rocks to his feet, and Fareed scrambles to help me stand.
With two officers flanking us, we head toward the hallway. My heart trips when we cross the threshold.
Fareed’s hand squeezes mine.
Away from the windows, the light is dimmer. And perhaps it would be better not to see at all. Perhaps it would be easier not to see what we’ve lost.
I blink.
Tomás is slumped against the wall. My knees weaken, and my stomach revolts.
Tomás.
Brother.
Tyler is sprawled opposite him. His face is destroyed. And if I expected to feel victorious, I am mistaken. Here, at the broken places, all I feel is emptiness.
A few steps away, Autumn lies curled and shaking. I break out in sobs. Officers surround her, and one of them kneels beside her, trying to draw her attention. She doesn’t respond. She twists and turns and pushes them away from her. Her fingers are curled around Tyler’s hand. Her face is white. The linoleum around her is stained red.
She came for us. For her brother. For me.
She came for us after all.
• • •
CLAIRE
One of the officers guides CJ toward the vans that will take her to Opportunity, to Steve. Chris steers me to a black girl standing to the side of the tent. Her lips are set in an angry line, and she keeps clasping and unclasping her hands in front of her. I only know she’s a fellow senior because we had English together sophomore year, but other than that, we’ve managed to pass each other for four years.
“My sister was in your brother’s class. They got along well.” She spits out the words. “Your boyfriend killed her. He shot your brother too.”
Suspecting it, knowing it, is still not the same as having it confirmed. There’s no pretending now. I waver. The only thing that keeps me standing is Chris’s hand supporting my elbow.
“I think he got shot accidentally. He couldn’t walk. When we were rushed out, they left him behind.” She stares at me, her eyes as fierce as the colors in her hair, but her voice dips. “I think they were too late.”
“I’m sorry for your loss” is all I can manage.
She takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for yours.”
The words don’t make sense, but I nod. She disappears into the blur of faces. Chris is the only one whose presence registers, and I collapse.
“Let me know as soon as you hear anything about the scholarships. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. I’m so proud of you.” Tracy stood outside the base, one hand on my shoulder.
She looked untouchable in her immaculate uniform, her lieutenant’s b
ars polished to a shine. Her eyes sparkled, and even her hair looked perfect. I wanted to be her. We hugged, and I whispered, “Are you scared?”
She laughed. “I’m terrified.”
“Oh good, me too.”
“You’ll be just fine. Take care of Matt, okay? You’re the eldest now. Opportunity High will be rough for him, at least the first couple of months. But tell him it’s okay to be scared. We all are. It’s part of growing up.”
Chris reaches for my hand, and all I want to do is wrap my arms around him and cling to him, to know that at least there is one part of my life that is strong and safe.
I hate myself for wanting to be happy.
“Are you—” Chris swallows the question. “Stupid question. I’m sorry.”
I weave my fingers around his. “Are you—?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”
“Me neither.” I pause. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Chris braves a wan smile. “I will always be here.”
“I know,” I say, and to my surprise, I do. Today leaves us with so many questions. Of all the people who died here today, did anyone really know anyone else? What they feared? What they wished for? Who they wanted to be?
But this I do know: Chris will always be there when I need him.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Things changed between us. We need to figure out who we want to be, who we can be, who we are. “I want to teach,” I blurt out.
Chris shakes his head and starts to laugh. The sound is strange amid all the grief, but it is also beautiful and healing.
A girl runs in. I’ve seen her around the hallways, though I don’t know her name. She is crying just like all of us, but when she stands in the middle of our tent, everyone stops what they’re doing to listen.
“He’s dead. He shot himself. I overheard it on the radio.” She turns to the officer near the tent opening. He shakes his head apologetically. He can’t say anything. But she can. And she does.
“It’s over.”
• • •
AUTUMN
There is nothing left but pain. Flashes of life and flashes of intense darkness. Noise. Everything hurts.
When I close my eyes, Ty’s half smile taunts me. When Ty pointed the gun at me, he smiled like he did when Mom brought home chocolate oranges from the UK. I wanted to see him happy for so long. But then he pulled the trigger.
When I open my eyes, I’m trapped in an endless pirouette, as if someone gave me a spin and I can’t stop. The linoleum feels cool under my cheek. All I want to do is let go.
“Miss.”
A face hovers over me.
“Miss, can you hear me?”
A thousand knives stab my leg. All the screaming makes me feel sick.
“We need a paramedic, stat.”
They won’t come, I think, because I can still see Matt lying in the auditorium. They won’t come. They will never come. Save those who will survive the rescue. Start there.
But the danger has passed. We are safe.
If that’s true, why don’t I feel safe? Why can’t I move? Why is someone screaming until my throat’s sore? Am I screaming?
Someone tries to move me, but I jerk back.
“What’s her name?” someone asks.
“Autumn,” a familiar voice answers. “Autumn Browne.”
Sylv.
“Autumn?” It’s the first voice again, soothing and reassuring. “We’ll try to make you more comfortable, but we need to move you. We’re going to stabilize your leg first.”
My leg? I nod, but when I try to raise my hands to meet Sylv’s, they don’t move. I’m not sure they ever did.
“Golondrina.”
Hot tears fall on my face while cool hands fold against my forehead. They draw me out of my nightmares. I open my eyes, and the colors swim. “Sylv…” I say it again to make sure my mouth forms her name right, but she doesn’t respond. She caresses my cheek.
She takes my hand in hers because I still do not remember how to move. She presses her lips to my fingers, and I want to hold her—no matter who might see.
She glances down at my legs. Her pity and helplessness are so clear.
I wanted to dance so much, it tore me up inside. I was willing to sacrifice everything to dance. But when Ty pointed the gun at me, he broke me. I’ll never mend again.
Ty made good on his promise. I didn’t need to die for him to kill me. He simply lowered his gun and pulled the trigger. And his bullet tore my knee to shreds.
Jay (@JEyck32) → Kevin (@KeviiinDR)
Ill be waiting. Ill be waiting until Im able to say goodbye to you. Or maybe, maybe, maybe hello.
10:53 AM
Jay (@JEyck32) → Kevin (@KeviiinDR)
I wish I knew how little time we had.
10:53 AM
Chapter Twenty-Six
10:53–10:55 A.M.
SYLV
I hold Autumn’s hand as the paramedics get her onto a stretcher, as they carry her toward the stairs. The SWAT teams lead us out, but they leave Tyler and Tomás behind. It’s so wrong, seeing them there together—together and yet so, so far apart.
A smile plays around Tomás’s lips.
Something inside me waits for him to stand up and follow us out.
But he doesn’t.
Autumn moans. She’s clear some moments, only to fade away the next. Her leg is a bloody mess, and I don’t know how they’ll be able to fix it. I don’t know how she’ll ever dance—how she’ll ever soar through the air again.
I wanted to keep her. I wanted to be her home. I wanted her to fly, but I always hoped she would come back to me.
Not like this though. Never like this.
When we reach the first floor, the hallways are empty. There are only the bodies and the bloodstains and the screams that haunt the school. On our way to the main entrance, we pass the doors to the auditorium, which are wide open now. The seats are empty. Paramedics care for the wounded, and policemen and detectives scour the area for evidence.
From this perspective, with the locks cut and all the doors open, the auditorium looks smaller. On any other day, the doors would open to laughter and discussions about our break. The doors would open, and we would head to our lockers, to Spanish, to my APUSH midterm. The doors would open to life.
The bell rings, signaling the end of third period.
Autumn groans on the stretcher. Her eyes flicker open. “Are we leaving? Are we free?”
I squeeze her hand. I want to kiss her, tell her I’m so sorry, that this is not how I meant to keep her.
Instead, I nod and blink against the sunlight as we emerge outdoors.
This is where we leave Opportunity behind.
• • •
CLAIRE
The voices of families and news crews, the sirens driving on and off the campus—it all fades to the background. When the first ambulances carry the wounded away from the school, the crowds step aside to let them pass. The students on the field watch the school’s main entrance in silence, motionless. Word has spread, even if it’s not official yet. Relief overtakes the grief.
It is over.
I zigzag around the tents and the police units, staying to the side of the parking lot. Once I’ve passed the south side of the school, the police presence diminishes.
The farther I am from the command center, the fewer police cars there are. I duck under the plastic tape. On this side of the parking lot, it’s all student cars. I remember all those times Tracy drove here to watch me run track. I remember all the times we would drive around, the top down on her old convertible, me in the front and Matt in the back, the wind playing with our hair so it felt like we were flying.
I head toward the woods behind the school. There is the constant flas
hing of the emergency lights, but only the birds give their occasional commentary here. No one stops me. The barren trees are dark. Matt always told me the woods here are haunted. He plans—he planned to take us on a ghost hunt someday. All of us.
God, I should call my sister. I should tell her.
I should go home.
In the distance, someone calls my name, and sirens tear through the silence again.
I rest my head in my hands and I cry.
• • •
AUTUMN
It’s cold outside. The paramedics on either side of my stretcher carry me out with brusque efficiency while Sylv keeps hold of my hand. I drift in and out of consciousness. It’s merciful, because in those instants, I do not have to wonder who I am, who I am supposed to be.
I do not want to see this world yet—this world Ty created and then left. This morning, I wished I could escape to anywhere, be anything. Now all my dreams are out of reach, and I wonder if I’ll ever make it home again.
But Sylv is still beside me. I don’t want to ever let her go. For all that we lost, we have gained each other. Maybe that’s all we need for now.
This is our moment.
Sylv is with me as we pass the crowd of parents and police officers and news crews and survivors. She is with me as the paramedics carry me to an ambulance. She is with me.
Ty will still win if we give up now. If we live in fear. If we let go of ourselves and each other. So I will hold on to Sylv’s hand for as long as I can. Together, we can rebuild our dreams.
Sylv bends forward to kiss my hair. I reach for her, and my lips meet hers. In one kiss, I try to tell her everything I can’t say yet. That I’m sorry, so sorry. That there are so many things I have to figure out. Who I was or who I can be. But that my heart is hers. And if she’ll accept me, it’s the best I can give us. We may not have forever.
But we still have tomorrow.
When she breaks away, big, fluffy snowflakes begin to drift down. And we are in orbit around each other.
This Is Where It Ends Page 17
