Page 88 of Atticus
The mayor is apologetic. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t really work that way. Not in this case.”
“Jack,” I say, letting go of Lucy to approach him, but he turns away from me and runs out of the room.
I pursue him out into the hallway. “Jack!” I call, but he turns a corner and keeps running.
A sudden, high-pitched ringing brings everything to an abrupt halt, so deafening it’s difficult for my audio sensors to pick up anything else. I recognize it as the fire alarm, echoing throughout the entire school. Teachers rush to take command of the situation, leading apprehensive students out of Vautrin in single file.
“A fire drill?” Lucy comes to stand next to me, equally concerned for Jack. “Now?”
“No,” I reply with a deepening frown. “Not a drill. I smell smoke.” And only moments later, it’s billowing through the air.
Lucy begins instructing the families in her classroom. “Okay, everyone, please don’t panic. We’re going to make our way calmly to the nearest exit. Please follow me.”
Outside, we can hear the urgent sirens of the approaching fire department in the distance, black smoke billowing out of a singular window.
Lucy’s classroom, the room closest to the power box closet on the other side.
“I can’t believe this,” Lucy says. “Tonight was supposed to go so well, then the photos and now this. Is this really happening right now?”
“It’s an electrical fire,” I say quietly.
Everyone’s gathered around the school as the fire department places barriers to keep people from getting too close. All eyes are on the growing plume of smoke and the flickering flames as the fire spreads, taking over more classrooms. I calculate the odds of the school becoming quickly engulfed. The firefighters don’t need those numbers. With how they’re scrambling to control it, hoses out, sending water raining into shattered windows, they know it already.
“Right next to your room,” Trey says darkly. “This is too much of a coincidence. Somebody wanted to hurt you tonight. And they didn’t care if they hurt everyone else in the process.” He backs away from our group with his phone in his hand, about to make a call.
Lucy leans back into me as I hold her, standing among stunned students, families, and faculty as we stare at the ashen plumes rising to the sky. The fire spreads so fast, it’s like Vautrin was built with kindling. Journalists, previously so intent upon Lucy, are too distracted by the larger story at hand, their photographers snapping pictures as a local reporter speaks in front of a camera.
“We’re here live in St. Morgan at Vautrin Upper Middle School, where a fire has broken out in a first-floor classroom...”
* * *
Lucy
I never thought I’d be targeted like this. Watching the fire grow in strength and intensity, the entire school ablaze, I realize nothing about this could be accidental. Today has been one of the hardest days of my life by far. I’m surprised I didn’t buckle beneath the pressure of it all. I’m facing public humiliation, from which there is no return, not just here in St. Morgan but everywhere because the internet is still definitely forever. I’ve lost my job, and I was nearly robbed of the man I love. That should be enough hardship for one day. But this is personal, like some last ditch effort to ensure Atticus and I can’t be together. That I don’t walk away from this unscathed.
It can’t be coincidence. And that means, someone would’ve rather seen us die here than win. Is there anyone at this school who could possibly hate me that much?
“Lucy!”
I turn, snapping out of my thoughts.
Denise jogs toward me. “We can’t find Jack Gunther. We’ve searched everywhere, checked with all the student groups. No sign.”
I look at Atticus in fright.
“He was upset and ran off,” Atticus says urgently, eyes on the blaze that illuminates the neighborhood and cars around us, flames reflected on the windows. “He may be trapped somewhere inside.”
His arms loosen around me. He launches forward before I can stop him.
“Atticus!” I shout in dismay, rushing after him, but Denise and Trey grab me, holding me back as he catapults at full speed toward the school, past firefighters before they can stop him. My heart pounds. “Wait!”
“Lucy, stop!” Trey barks as I fight against his grip, trying to break free and go after him. “You can’t go!”
Atticus yanks the door of the side entrance open so hard that it comes partially off its hinges. The firemen see him. They shout at him, but I can’t hear what they’re saying, and he doesn’t listen. Smoke blasts out to engulf him. He disappears in clouds of black and gray.
Time around us seems to slow; the firefighters shout as they man their hoses, sending geysers of high-powered water crashing into the building as teachers work together to maintain calm.
Minutes feel like eternity as I wait helplessly with everyone else, holding my breath. Even from this distance, I’m warm from the heat of the fire. With each passing second, my dread grows heavier, and the desire to truly panic becomes stronger.
