There’s a saying about rocks and hard places. Let me tell you, I would happily take two hard surfaces any day over being trapped between my bully and gun fire.

  Angela glares at me through the glass, but as another round of gunfire opens down the hall, she reaches up and opens the door in invitation. I scramble through on my hands and knees, slamming the door shut while leaning against it.

  “Jesus, Griffin!” Angela hisses. “Could you be louder?”

  Even if I have a response in mind, I’m too busy panting to reply. The quick pattern of my breath intensifies as the gunfire grows nearer, now accompanied by heavy thumps and whimpering.

  Angela’s eyes widen, her lip trembles, and she crawls backwards. The little beam of light touches the trembling tips of her shoe through the window.

  Behind the door, there’s solid thump on the ground accompanied by a cry of pain and fear. I close my eyes and clench my teeth. I’d know that voice anywhere. Mr. Stevens.

  Not a second later the gunfire snaps and the whimper stops. Angela slaps a hand over her mouth as I shudder, my whole body rattling against the door. There’s no way the shooters will miss it.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Dude, good shot!”

  “Head shot. Fifty points.” The second voice sneers right before a soft thump. “Bet you wish you’d let it go last week.”

  My mind reels with the little details, trying to find the logic. Mr. Stevens caught a group of kids texting each other during last week’s test. But… there’s no way that is worth a death sentence.

  Footsteps thump into tiny little thuds in the distance and Angela lets out a noise, half squeak and half sigh. Her body sags into a puddle as a single tear reflects the yellow light of the hall. “What the hell is going on?”

  I stick my head between my knees and grumble. “Kind of obvious.”

  “Don’t you start.”

  “You asked.” I sit up and push my glasses into place

  “Yeah well…” She sticks out her lower lip only to bite it. “What do we do?”

  “We?” I loll my head on my shoulder to glare at Angela. I am too tired to argue with her. “There is no we. I am going to check something in Lucy’s locker and then I’m hiding until the police get here.”

  “It’s been an hour.” The single tear turns to ice under her tone.

  “So?”

  “Don’t you think they’d have been here by now?”