The school was dark, all window blinds were down, and everyone huddled together in each classroom as the lock down continued. All police stations within a 250 mile radius had been destroyed, and cops were being shot down left and right. No help was coming.
It had been the worst terrorist attack since the fall of the World Trade Center.
The school finally made the decision to evacuate, after that, every man for himself. People began moving towards the exits slowly. There was a single police car outside to help with the evacuation.
Cross Bowman was just another student looking for a way out. There were gunshots heard outside. People around him began panicking and started running towards the exits. He was just about to make it outside when an explosion went off in front of him.
Panicked students trampled him as they made their escape. He looked up and saw masked men running towards the school with every type of weapon imaginable. Assault rifles, shotguns, LMGs, SMGs, sniper rifles, even assault shotguns. He picked himself up and ran back deeper into the school.
He found his locker where he kept a 500 magnum revolver hidden away. He checked the cylinder for bullets. 5 rounds. Better make them count. He didn’t bother closing his locker, just more noise. All he needed was for someone to be standing on the floor below him and shoot at the ceiling.
Cross moved slowly, checking every classroom he walked by. It only took one silent sucker to watch him walk past and put a bullet in his back. He heard people talking close by. Cross didn’t shoot the terrorists he saw. He only had 5 rounds after all. And he will draw more unnecessary attention to himself by firing the most powerful handgun on the planet.
The stairs were the worst part of being silent. They were squeakier than a dog’s chew toy. It took Cross about five minutes just to reach the landing, then another five to make it to the bottom. As he walked, he noticed terrorists looking out windows in each room. He moved passed them without alerting them.
Cross made it to the kitchen where a single guard was standing. He moved to a drawer and slowly opened it. Just what he was looking for, steak knives. He plucked one out and examined it. For a school, it was pretty clean. Too bad it was gonna be covered in blood in a few seconds.
Cross silently, moved around the oven and up to the guard. He had killed many animals while hunting before, it was how he ate every night. But he never thought he would have to kill a human in his life. He quickly covered the guard’s mouth and inserted the blade into his chest. The guard grabbed the back of Cross’ head but slowly released as the life drained from his body.
Cross began lowering him to the ground and released him once he was sure he was dead. The beautiful shining blade was now a temporary red pen. He panted looking at the lifeless body before him. He thought about what he had did, and what he would have to do to survive this.
The now nervously shivering man got up and continued his journey. He heard laughter from the girl’s locker room. Oh god he didn’t want to go in there. Cross slowly inched his way in, his gun held down in front of him.
This was not what Cross wanted. Five terrorists surrounding a girl that only had a towel over her. They were laughing and speaking a different language. Luckily, he knew the language.
“Boy, we’re gonna have fun today.” laughed one.
“Once we’re done with her, we should see what the boss thinks, he’s been looking for a nice clean one to take to the bedroom.” shouted another.
“So who’s first?” asked a third. Cross looked down at the girl. He knew her face from math class. Lyra Heartstrings. He couldn’t leave her to be raped. In all he counted five terrorists. One shot for each. Cross pulled the hammer back on his gun and swung around the corner. He was a strong guy, but his gun was stronger. The first shot sent his arms up a little above his head.
One man jumped behind the lockers to avoid his death. The other four pointed their guns up. Cross was a quick shot and had all four down with just a single shot being fired back at him. He moved forward and looked to his right to see a terrorist running at him with a knife.
He quickly let go with his left hand and swung the gun at the attacker. The bullet passed through his head and hit the back wall. But the thing was, it wasn’t the man that had dived out of the way. Cross didn’t have any rounds left. The sixth terrorist moved in front of him with his gun drawn.
Cross hit the gun out of the way, a round being fired in response. He transferred all his strength into his left fist and punched the terrorist in the face shattering his nose and making him fall. He picked a gun up off the ground and pulled the trigger once he was in position.
The radio on the soldier signaled for a radio check. Cross picked up the radio listened to the order of information, then read off the information of the soldier with the other terms that were needed. No suspicion was raised and Cross once again breathed.
Lyra was still on the ground shaking in fear. She look up at Cross, terror filling her eyes. Cross sat her up trying to keep her covered with her towel.
“Jesus, you alright?” he asked, his Russian accent spooking Lyra. It was the same accent used by the anonymous terrorists. Lyra nodded and breathed deeply.
“Get your clothes on, I won’t look.” Cross instructed. He walked away to the door picking up two automatic weapons on his way to watch for anyone. Shuffling and other sounds of clothing moving around could be heard behind him. He felt a tap on his shoulder. Cross turned around to confirm it was Lyra. He nodded and offered her a gun.
“I don’t know how to use that!” she whispered with an urgent tone.
“It’s loaded, the safety is off. We’re in a closed space so bullet drop shouldn’t be a problem, just point and pull the trigger. If it jams, just pull this handle back and continue. It’s semiautomatic so it only fires one bullet per trigger pull. Simple.” Cross explained with a smile. Lyra hesitated for a moment before slowly accepting the weapon. She fumbled around for a second before finding a comfortable position to hold it.
“When we go out, walk backwards with it pointed out to cover behind us.” Cross instructed. Lyra nodded and took a deep breath. Cross checked the hallway before stepping out with his gun pointed out in front of him. Lyra mirrored him walking backwards. Cross peeked around a corner then leaned back.
“Four of them. Don’t close your eye when you look through the scope.” he instructed. Cross moved her against the wall and made her crouch down. He stood behind her standing strait up. He tapped Lyra on the shoulder and leaned out. Lyra did the same and pulled the trigger releasing a round that pushed back on her hard. It was something she could manage and continued firing. Cross held down his trigger unleashing a spray of bullets. He kept his bursts to three or four rounds before stopping to re-aim.
Lyra did remarkably well hitting two of them in their body armor. As they walked by, Cross took his knife and stabbed each one of them to make sure they wouldn’t spring up and shoot them. Beyond the bodies, was a door leading to the basement. From there, they could open the bulkhead and escape to the outside.
Cross picked up a pistol from one of the soldiers and continued. The door wasn’t as squeaky as he thought it would be. It opened up with just a little sound at the end of the swing. They walked down the steps to the dusty underground bunker. Lyra shut the door behind them and continued forward. Cross turned on his flashlight that he had on his key chain and looked around.
The place was well kept aside from the layer of dust. No spider webs, rats, or anything. Just dust. They approached the bulkhead of freedom. Cross pulled out two paper clips and expertly opened the lock. The metal door didn’t move an inch. They were both deeply confused. They had both heard the lock click open so why wasn’t the door opening? Cross ran his flashlight along the edge of the door. There was no light coming in from where a small crack should be. Then he looked at the floor. There was a red powder on the floor.
“They used thermite to weld the door shut,” Cross sighed, “we can’t get out from down here.”
“So what do we do?” Lyra asked. Cross looked at his watch. It was 7:38.
“We’re gonna have to stay here tonight.” he answered. Lyra started to panic.
“We can’t stay here, we’ll be shot almost instantly!” she exclaimed.
“Trust me I have an idea for that,” Cross ensured, “We just need to make a stop at the robotics classroom and head up to the second floor to sleep.”
There wasn’t anything special that happened. Cross grabbed all the parts he needed to keep them safe that night and headed up to the second floor. They found a classroom with only one door and began setting up for the night. Within ten minutes, Cross had silently set up a rig that would keep anyone out. Lyra sat on the ground, her head resting on her hands looking quite miserable. Cross sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“It’ll be over soon,” he assured, then turned to a darker tone, “but there's gonna be a lot of bloodshed tomorrow, too much for one person to handle.”
“How are we gonna get out of here? Pretty much the only place to go is the front door.” Lyra insisted. Cross gave her a look that told her that that’s exactly what they were going to have to do. Lyra looked down, then up at the rig that her life depended on.
“What will that do?” she asked.
“When someone opens that door, it will fire off the pistol and kill whoever is standing there. If it doesn’t kill them, it will definitely wake us up and we can kill them ourselves.” Cross explained. Just then, they heard steps outside the door. They both picked up their weapons and pointed them at the door. The footsteps grew to the point where it was easy to tell that they were right outside the door, then slowly faded as the person walked by. They both lowered their guns and breathed.
“So what gun is this?” Lyra questioned handing it to Cross.
“Well, this is an AR-15, it fires a 5.56 by 45 millimeter NATO round,” he explained unloading the magazine, “Now this red tipped bullet, is a tracer round, it allows you to see where you’re shooting or to alert you that you’re almost out of ammo. In this case it was to show that you’re almost out. You have five rounds left in here.”
“Half of that was gibberish to me but alright.” Lyra claimed with a giggle. Cross smiled, then proceeded to show her how to reload the weapon. It soon became hard for them to stay awake and they lied down for a well deserved sleep. Well, if they could get to sleep, tile isn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep on. Their guns sat next to them in case the rig didn’t work.
It was October and it was only about fifty degrees out. The power had been shut off hours ago so there was no heat. Cross sat up and began to look around. His eyes came across a cabinet labeled: Fire Emergency Kit. He walked over and opened it. It contained a fire extinguisher, a respirator, and a fire blanket. Cross pulled the blanket out and covered Lyra with it. He then lied down and attempted to fall asleep.
Cross felt something cover him and a more narrow object wrap around him. Lyra had covered him over and was clinging to him so they could both fit under the blanket. Cross closed his eyes once more and slowly fell asleep. The sun slowly rose up casting shadows around the room. Both of them ached all over from the hard ground. Cross turned over to look at Lyra.
“That’s a face I would love to wake up to every morning.” he whispered. Lyra blushed then sat up with Cross. They stood up and began getting ready for their escape. Either way, it would end today. Cross walked over to the window and peeked out the blinds. The sight surprised him.
“There’s a bloody tank outside.” he exclaimed. Lyra walked over and looked out as well. An Abrams tank sat in front of the school, its gun aimed at the front door. Cross turned around and noticed the computer and lights were on. An email was opened on the screen that read:
Hello Cross and Lyra,
We have been watching you through the security cameras in the building, amazing job surviving the night. We have sent a tank to assist you in escaping. When you get to the lobby, hide behind something, we will fire a round to open the door (It’s locked shut like every other door leading to the outside). Once you make it outside, just run for the crowd behind us. We will take care of the rest. Good luck.
-Equestrian Army
Why do people gather to watch someone’s inevitable death? A crowd had formed about 50 feet behind the tank and was protected by heavy titanium shields with bulletproof glass to see out of. The crowd all held candles hoping that the two would make it out alive. Inside, Cross and Lyra were fighting their way through dozens of soldiers to the lobby.
When they reached the lobby, they did as they were told and ducked behind a wall. The whole room shook as a HEAT round went through the door and exploded, killing everyone in its path. The door was now a gaping hole in the wall, nothing was left except for body parts and burning wood. Both Cross and Lyra dropped their heavy weapons and ran for the exit. Cross pulled out his pistol and shot a terrorist that was clinging to life to kill them.
Bullets flew all around them as they ran for safety. Grenades were being tossed out of windows and exploding 10 feet away. Cross looked up at the tank and saw an unused browning just sitting there on the back of the turret. He changed his course and climbed on top of the tank. He watched Lyra make her way to the crowd and disappear behind the shields where hundreds of people watched the show.
Cross turned back around and prepared the gun for firing. He pulled the cocking lever back and began spraying into the windows. The massive 120 mm gun fired off into the center of the second floor. Another massive hole formed where the shell had hit. Soldiers began shooting out of the hole as well. A soldier with an RPG leaned out a window and made the perfect shot. The rocket flew down the barrel and hit the shell that was loaded in the breach. The whole inside of the tank went up in an explosion, the crew didn’t even know what hit them.
Cross blanked out as he watched fire pouring out of the hatches on the tank. He was the only one out on the field now. He continued to fire into every window he saw.
“Keep peeking out so I can shoot you down like flies!” he called out in Russian. The gun jammed and he angrily pulled the lever back to fix it. But what he didn’t know was that there was a sniper slowly making his way to the edge of the roof. The sniper placed his gun on the railing and loaded a round in.
Down on the ground, Cross was still firing at the school. A new gun sound was heard and a bullet grazed Cross’ temple. He groaned as he flew back still holding the gun with one hand and fell down behind the turret.
In the crowd, Lyra watched in horror as her new companion sat there in pain. Tears began pouring out of her eyes at the sight. The sniper took off his mask, there was no need for it any more, the fight was over, and it would end with the fall of Cross Bowman.
Bullets flew past Cross as he sat there behind the turret. He looked up and grabbed the 50 cal with one hand. The sniper loaded another round and waited. Cross slowly pulled himself up trying to continue fighting. Another bullet hit him in the right half of his chest. He fell back again.
Lyra was going insane at the sight she was seeing. A lonely kid fighting a terrorist group on his own to save others and he was being tortured for it. Cross once again lifted himself up and again was shot down. This time in his left shoulder, the bullet took a big chunk of flesh with it.
This time Cross just lied there looking up at the sky, he could not fight any more, and he accepted the death that was sure to come. He had saved Lyra, that was good enough for him. He was going to ask her out if they both survived but, oh well. Sometimes things don’t work out. Then everything faded to black.
Light entered Cross’ eyes as he slowly woke up. There were two people hovering over him. He looked at the one on the left. It was his sister shaking her head.
“You’re an idiot, you had a chance to make it out without harm to you and you didn’t take it.” she exclaimed. Cross ignored her and turned to the person on the right. It was Lyra, she still had a few tears moving down her face. There were no words, they just stared at each other. Cross’ sister left the room leaving just them.
“Like I said, I could get used to waking up to your face.” Cross teased. Lyra giggled and leaned down for a quick peck on the lips before she was ordered out by the doctor. Before exiting she looked back and said,
“I could get used to yours too.”
