little area where I was confining myself to. Where there was no escape from.
More gunshots nearby.
I did the only thing I could.
I ran inside the toilet and slammed the door shut.
I fell back against the toilet. Sat there, gasping, sweating, heart racing. My teeth chattered. All I could see in my mind’s eye were those gunmen firing at people. All I could hear echoing around my skull were those gunshots.
I tried to tell myself it was over. That everything was over. I thought about Cassie and begged her to make everything okay, to watch over me and make everything okay.
I tried.
But then I heard the footsteps strolling slowly into the restroom.
There was silence for a few seconds. A couple of worried gasps from the people in the cubicles beside me.
And then the person spoke.
“Come on, little piggies. The big bad wolf is here.”
A cubicle door smashed open.
Gunfire rattled inside it.
They were coming. They were coming and there was nothing I could do.
9
T ime stood still as I stood in that restroom cubicle and listened to the gunman’s footsteps get closer.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see the cubicle around me. Like by not opening my eyes, there was less of a chance that I was actually here, somehow. That I might just wake up back home and realize this was all just one big messed-up nightmare.
But I heard another cubicle door smash open. I heard more gunshots.
And that sound, which made every inch of my body jump, reminded me that this wasn’t a dream.
This was reality.
Cold, hard reality.
I tasted sick on my tongue. I wanted to throw up, the smell of the gunfire triggering my gag reflex. But through everything, it was that memory of Cassie dying in front of me when I was just eight that came to my mind. That memory of The Great Blast—the moment my life, my family’s life, changed forever.
I felt tears roll down my cheeks, felt my body shake, and I prayed that Cassie could help somehow.
Another door kicked in.
More gunshots.
How wonderfully ironic. Just days ago, I’d been mocked in front of the whole school for running to the restroom to get out of a football game. Now here I was, trapped in a toilet cubicle once again.
Only this time, Ellicia wasn’t the one coming to the door. Mr. Preacher from history wasn’t the one coming to the door.
The person coming to the door was going to kill me.
I thought back to the time of the ULTRAs as the footsteps got nearer. I wondered if anything like this would be allowed to happen when Orion was around. He stopped loads of incidents like this. Terrorism ended the day Orion and the rest of the Heroes—the pre-ULTRA days—soared above the earth.
But since the end of the ULTRAs, since the day of The Great Blast, the world was getting back to how it was again.
This time, nobody was coming to help me.
I felt every muscle in my body tense as the footsteps stopped right outside my door. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to go away and—
A bang.
A bang, to my right.
The cubicle to my right flew open.
They’d walked past me. They’d walked right past my cubicle.
“Wrap it up, Scott,” a voice said. “We’re done here.”
I couldn’t believe it as I listened to the men disappear. They’d walked away from my cubicle. One moment, I’d been sitting there, eyes closed, waiting.
I’d felt a tingling sensation spread up the back of my neck.
And then I’d heard a sound to my right. The sound of a cubicle door being kicked in.
I stayed still. Stayed completely still for a few seconds.
When I opened my eyes, I couldn’t believe what I was looking at.
The cubicle door in front of me was open. Wide open. It made my skin shiver.
I hadn’t heard them kick my cubicle door down. And if they had, why hadn’t they shot me?
Something wasn’t right. Something just didn’t feel right at all.
And then something else weird struck me, as the sound of the footsteps disappeared further from the restroom.
I’d
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