by Carla Thorne
Diagram says issues.
I just knew.
But Mary and Ivy didn’t.
IT’S THE SCOREBOARD ON MY END! Mary, Ivy, what’s happening?
Nothing, Ivy texted back. Some guy in a navy jumpsuit stopped to ask me about a bathroom.
Me too, Mary wrote.
Jacob? I asked.
All answered no.
It’s too crowded, I texted. He could be anywhere. And who wears jumpsuits?
Electricians, Scout texted back.
Then I spotted the navy jumpsuit come through the door as the coach rambled on and the crowd cheered. He talked of introducing the team, but Jacob’s chair in the front row was noticeably empty. Was anyone going to address that the star of the team wasn’t there to be introduced?
I have eyes on navy jumpsuit. He’s taking a vid w/his phone, I texted and then snapped a photo of him. Something’s not right with this guy. And where is Jacob?
Here! Mary texted. Walking in now.
I glanced at the scoreboard and then at navy jumpsuit.
The rest was a blur of noise and confusion.
Over the next several seconds, four loud pops—like gunshots—rang in the air. It was enough to stun everyone into silence, and then into screeching panic as many clearly thought it was an active shooter.
Drops of white, liquid fire fell from the scoreboard like a fireworks display as it exploded and sent bits of hot debris into the air.
I was stuck in slow motion as my gaze landed on Jacob who paused to look up.
I ran for him—but so had Mary.
She slammed into him as what was left of the swaying board burned and plummeted to the gym floor. Unidentifiable pieces skittered for yards as students dodged, tripped, and wrestled through the mess.
I opened my mouth to scream for Sebastian, but nothing came out.
I heard a voice in my head. I’m here.
I glanced up. The explosion had left everything near the scoreboard on fire.
As alarm bells raged above us, I struggled to get to Mary.
“You guys OK?”
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”
But even though the Warriors had been seconds ahead of everyone on what was going to happen, we were not prepared for what happened next.
Everyone had run away from the falling scoreboard and toward the opposite exits. That would have been great except for one thing.
I met Mary’s gaze with sheer terror. “The doors are closed, Mary. We can’t get out.”
Chapter 22
Mary
I understood what would happen the moment Deacon said scoreboard.
I knew Jacob had been delayed somewhere out of my reach. I knew the navy jumpsuit guy was not a coincidence. I knew we were in for a fight.
When Jacob rounded the corner in a hurry because he knew he was late, I tried to stop him. He slipped in the first door he passed, and right toward the middle of the end wall of the gym to then race to his seat.
And I was on him like stink.
I didn’t look up. I only looked ahead and tackled him in hopes I’d push his massive body far enough away to be safe. We tumbled to the floor amidst blistering drops of melting plastic, hot glass, and clanging metal.
I heard nothing as I pulled my arm from under Jacob’s weight. Pain flooded my elbow with the movement, but I kept using it.
“Keep going!” I pushed him.
He grabbed for me. “Not without you.”
“I’m here. Head for the door.” I slipped on what I hoped was vomit and not blood. In my confusion, I’d blocked out the noise, but I caught sight of students in full panic as they moved like watercolor blurs in various states of shock and zombie-like movement.
That could have been anything on the floor.
Deacon stepped toward us in much the same way. “The doors are closed, Mary. We can’t get out.”
“What?”
“Look. They’re crashing against the doors. They won’t open.”
Mr. Parrington’s voice became a blob of unintelligible thunder over the crowd. I think he was trying to say what they heard were not gunshots and that everyone needed to calm down and exit.
But there was no way to exit and terror grew.
“Deacon! Don’t lose it now!”
“Yes! I’m good. What is this?”
I felt the suffocating hands of Shanar around my neck. I couldn’t think any faster. I tried to close my mind to the outside. I fought in my supernatural realm and tore his hands from my throat. The problem was, I was still very much in the real world in the midst of a disaster.
Focus… Sebastian, we need you.
I’m here.
What’s happening? What do we do?
It is as I explained. The Destroyer would see you dead, but you do not have to die.
And neither does anyone else…
Where does your help come from, Mary?
The Creator. And you on his behalf.
So, what is to be done?
“Mary!” Deacon yelled. “We’re running out of time. Fire is coming down this wall.”
“Think logically, Deac. There’s no reason those doors are locked. Scout showed us last night. There’s no emergency lock-down on them, and even if there were, it wouldn’t stop escape, only entrance. This isn’t a natural force. It’s a supernatural one.”
“Are you saying the Destroyer is holding the doors closed?”
“Why not? This is just all-out war. Use your powers.”
“What powers? My hands heat up and maybe that warmth heals things. The last thing we need in here is more heat.”
“Turn it on the doors.”
“And do what? Melt them closed even tighter?”
“Go!” I pushed him toward the farthest door, a good ways from where the scoreboard used to hang. “Push it open. I’ll help, but so far, you’re the only one with actual visible and physical powers. Together, we are all the force we need to defeat the Destroyer. Sebastian is here to help.”
“I know. I heard him.”
“Then grab the bar and push.”
I pulled Jacob along and noticed blood. It trickled down the side of his face. I had no idea where the wound was, but it was on his head. He slumped against the wall.
I joined Deacon at the door. “Jacob can’t help. He might be hurt, and I think it has to be us.”
“We need to hurry. The smell is getting bad.”
A blast of air passed through the gym. “That’s not good,” I said. “It will only feed the fire.”
“Where is that coming from?” Deacon asked.
I glanced behind us. No doors had been opened to create a path for wind to pass through. “I don’t know.”
My heart dropped as I caught sight of the navy jumpsuit guy. He seemed to be making half-hearted attempts to help at the other end. Then there were others who didn’t seem to be nearly as concerned. Some of Gavin’s football friends, some of the Arrows, a few others who were stone-faced and seemingly unconcerned.
I caught the scent of ugly truth as sure as the burning electrical stench in my nose.
They thought the Destroyer would take care of them.
We were surrounded by enemies. The lines had been drawn in the sand. The war of good and evil was a real one, and we were up to our necks in it.
I turned to Deacon. “We’ve totally got this.”
Footsteps thundered up behind us. Ivy and Scout grabbed the door.
“Go back,” I commanded. “It’s safer down there and they need help.”
“Not on your life,” Scout said. “Sebastian sent us.”
“And there’s no safety for anyone if the doors don’t open,” Ivy added.
“Everyone focus,” I said. “Focus on the Creator. Imagine the Destroyer disintegrating away from the door. He can’t win. He’s not able or allowed to win.”
We closed our eyes.
“Push!”
Chapter 23
Deacon
Everything was black.
I closed my eyes like Mary said. I tried to focus. I imagined crashing through the doors and the Destroyer’s forces to free everyone.
But nothing.
I thought I had died. My body split from itself somehow and I was detached from the action. I couldn’t feel anything, and there was so much…black.
A swirling mass encircled me as my vision came back. “Your talents are wasted here, Deacon. Look at you and your friends pushing on that door. Hopeless. The firefighters are literally minutes away, but you and your friends are still going to die. What’s above you is going to come down in blazes at any time.”
My own common sense rattled me into some form of thought. “I’m still alive. You said going to die. I’m not dead yet. I just need to focus.”
“Ah. Smart boy. I’ll make this quicker. You don’t have to die. All you have to do is swear allegiance to me and become my Agent like so many of your other friends here have done. I’ll get you out of here safely, and tend to all your needs and desires, blah, blah, blah, do we have a deal?”
“No, we do not have a deal. Why would I make any deal with someone I don’t know?”
“Oh, smart boy, I think you know who I am. I know Mary. She told you about me. And I believe I know your mother. Your real mother.”
My body lost its footing on the ground below my detached being. The door wouldn’t budge, and I slipped.
I’d faltered, and the dark force knew it.
Focus…
“Let’s see. I know your real mother from way back. She tried so hard to resist me, but times were rough. Now, let me think. I believe she’s still alive. I could probably arrange a meeting, but that depends on you. And you two can talk and talk, and she can explain to you how much easier things are when you work for me.”
How many times had I wondered about my parents? How badly did I want to know? I considered all I’d learned and seen in the past year, and nothing about my current ominous out-of-body and near-death experience was positive or helpful in any way. There was nothing peaceful about me dangling around my own body while people screamed in fear and my life was threatened. I pictured my great-grandfather’s face. He never would have fallen for that.
“I know who you are,” I said. “You’re Shanar, and I don’t work for you. I work for the Creator.”
“Suit yourself, smart boy. For now.”
A pinprick of light permeated the black. Green and purple hues trickled through the darkness until bright white light chased it completely away.
I was with my body again.
Deacon, listen to me.
Sebastian?
Yes. You did a good thing. Now, remember what Mary said and open the doors.
I don’t know how.
Yes, you do. You are the power.
My eyes flew open wide. “I’ve got it! Don’t push with me. Push on me. Channel all your Warrior energy through me. Help me. I got this.”
I placed my hands on each bar of the double doors. “No way, Shanar. Not today, Destroyer.”
Scout, Mary, and Ivy pushed my body until my face smashed against the heavy steel door. Things cracked in my torso as they pushed again. I placed my palms flat on the surface as hot warmth traveled through every vein, and pure strength burst from my fingertips.
The door flung open.
“Next door!” Mary screamed.
I reached for Jacob and lifted him from the wall and over my shoulder. “This door’s open,” I yelled as loud as I could to the others as I carried him out and propped him in a corner near the front. I held his head in my hands. “You’ll be OK.”
The crowd rushed toward me as I came back in to work on a second door.
“Let’s get to the other end,” I said. “The other exit is too close to the fire in the wall and ceiling. It’s clearing out on that end.”
We shoved our way through the pulsing crowd and hit the first door we found. The swarm noticed and more people ran out.
We fell into a rhythm. I flattened my palms and pushed, and the others backed me up with one quick shove and a burst of powerful energy.
People poured out as we worked. When we got to the fifth door, it flapped open on its own.
The Destroyer had released his grip.
Chapter 24
Mary
The football game was moved to the following Friday.
The school was closed for three more days after the weekend.
The gym was closed indefinitely.
One lady and one student twisted their knees—both left knees—in the crowd, and one dad was taken to the hospital as a precaution because he couldn’t breathe. Someone said it might have been a heart attack, but later decided his long-untreated asthma couldn’t handle the smoke in the room.
Seems Deacon and I had gotten the worst of it, and Jacob’s head injury…
Well…
No one died.
Scout’s grandma arrived at the top of the stairs with a tray that held popcorn, a bowl of chocolate-covered peanuts, a bag of pretzels, and fruit.
Scout knocked pillows off the ottoman and patted it. “Here. Thanks, Grandma.”
“No problem. How you guys holding up?”
I grabbed the cloth on my sling and used it to pull my arm off my lap and change position. All my parents had done for days was field phone calls from those concerned, interested, or snooping around. My dad hadn’t even gone to work Monday or Tuesday, and the whole community was up in arms about the safety of the school and the trauma of those who’d been there trapped in the gym. “I’m fine, thanks, but I’m tired of all the attention.”
Scout’s grandma laughed. “I’m not sure how you’re going to avoid the attention since all the stories are about how you four saved the day. All the news stations have come around.”
Ivy plopped on the couch and pulled a fluffy throw across her lap. “It’s true, Mary. You saved Jacob’s life.”
“Where is Jacob?” Deacon asked.
“He’s at his third different neurologist trying to figure out what happened with his concussion and if he can play ball. He may come by in a bit.”
Scout’s grandma put her hands on her hips. “Well, let me know if you need anything.” She stepped to the mini bar and poured water in the small machine she called a diffuser.
“Whatcha’ puttin’ in there, Grandma?”
“Couple drops of vetiver, cedarwood, lavender… It’ll make it smell great up here and help you guys rest and focus and get ready for tomorrow.” She clicked it on and a scented cloud puffed out the top. “If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.”
Deacon winced and held his side as he bent to wave the fragrant air in his face. “Smells good. Your grandma is cool.”
“She’s a hippie,” Scout said.
“Did everyone’s parents get the text from Mr. Parrington?” Deacon asked.
“Mine did,” I answered. “They said he wanted to see all of us in the morning. What do you think he wants?”
“No tellin’,” Scout said. “Probably the usual why is it always you four routine.”
“Have you been able to get back into the program for the security footage?”
“Nope. Either Mr. Silva’s access has been revoked, or the whole system is fried and there’s nothing to see.”
I laughed. “If you want to see something, just check the hashtag StonehavenGymFire and look at all the cell phone video people managed to capture during the chaos.”
“I don’t want to see it,” Ivy said.
Scout picked up the bag of pretzels and then dropped them again. “I can’t eat. I’d rather get an injury report. Mary?”
“Bruised bone.” My elbow ached with every word. “Maybe a hairline crack. Sling and ice for now. Deac?”
He took a seat. “Two cracked ribs and a bruised stir…strinium…”
“Sternum,” Scout said. He pointed at his own chest. “You mean right here? Your breastbone?”
“Yeah, yeah, that thing. And the worst part is, there’s nothi
ng they can do. It hurts to laugh, cough, and sleep. It’s getting better, but man. I can’t even breathe deep. The doctor says if I’m not movin’ around more tomorrow when he listens to my chest, I might have to blow on a machine several times a day. I don’t know what that’s about.”
“It’s about keeping your lungs clear,” Scout said. “Never mind. You’ll feel better tomorrow. Ivy?”
“Nothing here. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, but no real injuries.”
“Same,” Scout said.
I glanced at my friends. “Where do we start?”
Ivy leaned forward. “I’ll start. I want to talk about the navy jumpsuit guy. Probably not an electrician.”
“Thank you!” Scout smacked his hand on a stack of crinkly pages by the couch. “No, he probably is not. And after running it down with Mr. Silva, he has proof the guy was a new sub-contractor for the company that came out about the problems. It’s a whole thing. A work order was cancelled and re-submitted—school budget crap and all—and that guy showed up, and things got worse. I only hope Mr. Silva doesn’t lose his job over it.” He rustled through blueprints of the gym he’d originally borrowed from the library.
Ivy nudged his shoulder. “Tell them the other thing.”
“Yeah. You know how we couldn’t believe the timing of the whole electrical fire in the scoreboard? And how could anyone possibly arrange it so perfectly as to when Jacob came in the door? I think it was more than that. I think it was a small explosive device designed to go off and trigger the fire. And.” He held up his phone. “I think the navy jumpsuit guy used his cell phone to detonate it.”
I could barely get the word out. “Bomb. You think there was a bomb in the scoreboard.”
“Yes. A device small enough to bring down the scoreboard and start a fire without taking out the whole building. Everything was designed to look like a simple electrical malfunction—like everything else.”
Deacon turned his phone in his hands and then dropped it on the couch. “You mean I can blow up something with my phone?”
“No. But if you wanted to, it’s possible. Terrorists have been using cell phones with explosives for a while now.”
