We heard the strange clicking sounds from before, then silence.
I held up the inhaler, breathing so hard I thoughtImight need it. “I got it.”
Ethan grabbed it and gave it to Grace, who didn’t waste any time raising it to her mouth and taking a puff.
Then another.
Her shoulders dropped a fraction as the medicine hit, her breathing stretching back toward something close to normal.
Ethan stared at the door. “I really want to get out of here.”
“We all do.” I took a deep breath, not saying anything else.
I didn’t have the heart to point out to him that outside the school was likely to be just as bad. We might be safer in here than out there.
CHAPTER TWENTY
ADRIAN
The plan came together simply, but I knew implementing it wouldn’t be.
We parked our dirt bikes when we found an abandoned van on the side of the road. The extra space would be needed when we got Lucas and his students out.
“I was hoping we’d have to hotwire it so I could see if you remembered what I taught you,” Ben grumbled as he got in the passenger seat.
“I remember.” I put the van into gear and slowly pulled out onto the road.
Ben had shown Taryn and me how to hotwire a car, droning on about how it would be crucial if things fell apart. It was a useful skill, and I hoped Taryn still remembered it.
The school looked normal from a distance.
Up close, it was anything but.
Two sheriff’s cruisers blocked the main drive at angles that weren’t accidental. The door hung open, and yellow tape snapped in the wind.
QUARANTINE-NO ENTRY.
The trip here had been eerie. No parents screaming in the parking lot, no police to be found. Everyone seemed to be holed up, trying to treat the sick. Giving up entirely on whoever remained in the school.
“That’s a half-assed job at containment,” Ben muttered.
"An early response," I corrected, "and they were completely ignorant of the situation."
We didn’t use the front.
I’d already mapped the perimeter twice on the way in—considering a line of sight, choke points, and probable interior flow based on the building’s structure and noise levels. The service corridor on the east side seemed to be our best option: it had fewer windows and was closer to the teacher’s lounge.
Ben had agreed, so that made it easier. And it was a good thing because I’d have done it my way regardless.
The door was bent at the latch, the metal warped as if it had been forced once and then abandoned when they didn’t get the desired result.
“Someone tried to get out,” Ben murmured.
“Or some-thing,” I answered.
“Noise discipline?” he asked, reverting to his military training.
“For the first thirty seconds,” I tilted my head. “After that, we create a diversion.”
