For several days after the awful event, Dorm society was in complete upheaval. Besides tightened security, another shakedown, and the natural trauma, everyone faced the awful business of finding out who had escaped the massacre and who had not. As he had hoped, his roommates were unharmed, but Reed knew nearly all the victims from his extensive circle of acquaintances. Will was his only close friend to be fatally injured.
As the dust began to settle, bits of the story behind the shooting came to light and were carefully pieced together. The gunner, a resident of the notorious Dorm Eleven, had been armed with two handguns and nearly a dozen magazines of extra bullets. He’d targeted the street fair since the crowd would be one of the largest the Hill had ever seen. The rest was not hard to follow. He had maneuvered to the center of the carnival and opened fire, changing clips as he emptied them. How he came by the firearms or the ammunition was a complete mystery. He was interrogated but refused to reveal anything. Word spread not long afterward that he committed suicide in prison.
The count of his victims came up in reports from the city: sixty-seven dead and more than ninety wounded. The staggering number was attributed mainly to the density of the crowd. With the odds stacked so high in the murderer’s favor, it was indefinite at first what had ended his killing spree. The police had found him unconscious on the scene, his guns lying nearby. The puzzled authorities could make nothing of it. An explanation was finally offered when a handful of witnesses reported the murderer had been attacked and overcome by three unarmed young men. No one could identify them. An announcement was issued, publicly praising the unknown heroes and asking that they come forward to be recognized. They did not, however, and their identities remained a mystery—to most.
Reed was one of the few enlightened. He was more than a little proud to know the three boys the whole country was asking about, but he kept his secret at their request. He sat silently through wild speculations at the Mushroom and the factory, trying not to laugh at the fantastic powers attributed to his friends.
But things could not stay on such a high forever. A form of normalcy returned as the turmoil faded back into everyday life on the Hill. Reed, strolling between the Dorms a week or two later, marveled at how quickly the terror seemed to have been forgotten. The parties had already resumed as if nothing had happened, and expectations were on the rise as the delayed opening of the rec center drew nearer.
But he couldn’t forget. No matter how hard he tried, he could not erase the image of Will lying in his own blood or the sound of the ripping bullets. They haunted the edges of his memory day and night, slinking in the shadows of every ordinary thought like sleepless specters. The closest he could get to relief was distraction.
Going back to what he had learned during his early days on the Hill, he immersed himself in the rush and swirl of everything the Dorms offered. The bubble was unbroken, but Reed was more shaken than he wanted to admit. Moments like these, walking alone under the trees, were the only times he let himself reflect on the dark horrors of the past.
“Well, it’s nice to see you alive, too. Thanks for noticing.”
Reed’s thoughts scattered. He hadn’t realized someone had come up beside him.
“Oh, hi, Sam.” Reed made an effort to sound less grudging than he felt. “I was just thinking. I see you made it through all right.”
“Yep,” Sam responded, swinging his lanyard around one finger. “Never even saw the guy. I suppose you heard about Will?”
“I found him.”
“Oh.” Sam was obviously not expecting that. After a moment of rare silence, he added, “Yeah, pretty sad. But the worst part is that we missed the concert that night. I mean, that is literally the worst! The Horde packed up and left so quick, I never even got to meet ’em!”
Sam talked on and on. It was all old, pointless gossip, and Reed couldn’t care less. Finally, when Sam paused for a breath, he took the chance to get in a sentence.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard from your friend Dylan, have you?”
“Dylan, from our hall?” Sam crinkled his forehead. “No, I guess I haven’t. I should drop into his room and check on him. He might be wondering about me, too.”
Personally, Reed found that doubtful, but he granted that it was a possibility and urged Sam to find out. Sam agreed without much persuasion. He had even started to leave before he paused and turned back. “Hey, are you going anywhere tonight?”
Reed nodded quickly. “Yes. I mean, most likely.”
“Oh. Then I guess I won’t see you later?”
“Probably not.”
Looking disappointed, Sam turned and trotted off. Once he was out of earshot, Reed blew out his breath. He’d done his best to cut back on the jabs and criticisms after his conversation with Elijah, but he still found the other boy trying at times.
“What was all that for?” Reed muttered, resuming his walk. “The way he talked, you’d think nothing happened.”
Then it struck him. Sam was talking as if everything were normal because he wanted it to be that way. The Hill was Sam’s life supply, and any blow to it struck at him deeply, like an ax on a tree trunk. No, Sam had not forgotten. Maybe he wasn’t so different from Reed after all—seeking distraction from his pain, burying himself in the system.
Reed picked up a stick from the sidewalk and began to break it into tiny pieces. Maybe it wasn’t just Sam. Perhaps the whole Hill still remembered all too well. What if this flippancy, which Reed thought was forgetfulness, was only a cover? Could it be that they were all only pretending to go on? Reed felt something close to sympathy for Sam. Still, the kid could be annoying.
“Goin’ somewhere?”
Reed jumped. Again, someone had joined him while he was deep in thought. He needed to start paying more attention.
“Oh, Hunter! I didn’t see you.” He tossed away the stick.
“Obviously.” Hunter’s dry manner hadn’t changed. “I’ve hardly seen you in over a week. At least you’re still alive.”
“Everybody keeps saying that like it’s weird. Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
“Maybe,” Hunter shrugged. “I wasn’t actually there, but maniacs like that usually go for the high-profile targets first. You’re lucky he didn’t hunt you down.”
Reed swallowed and glanced at him. “You weren’t there? Why not?”
“I just didn’t feel like it. I had other things to do.”
Reed could hardly imagine what might keep someone away from a free carnival, but Hunter went on without explanation. “So I just heard you tell Sambo you might be going out tonight. Got anything in mind?”
Reed did, actually. There was going to be another meeting with the group in the apartments. Reed hadn’t been to one in several weeks, and he felt it was time to make another visit. But he couldn’t tell Hunter that; he had to think up some kind of answer. “Oh, yeah, kinda sorta, I guess.” He kicked a fir cone off the sidewalk. “Reagan wants the room tonight, so I’m gonna meet a friend and we’re going into town.” True, he was supposed to meet Nathan after supper before going to the apartments.
Hunter nodded. “That’s got potential. Any idea what you’ll be doing?”
“Nah,” Reed shrugged, “I’m just winging it.” Also true. He really didn’t know where he was going or what the others had in mind for tonight. Reed congratulated himself on his clever answers but took the opportunity to change the subject. “I haven’t seen you on the hall all week. Where’ve you been keeping yourself?”
It was Hunter’s turn to shrug. “I’ve been really busy. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to come up to the hall anymore with all the stupid new security junk. They might think I was spying.” He spat in disgust.
Reed grimaced. “Surely it won’t be that bad. They just put the card swipes on the doors like they’d always threatened… and a few other things.”
Hunter snorted. “You’d be surprised. Have you ever thought about what card swipes have to do with gun control? I’ll tell you: nothing. They’re just trying to squeeze more of our freedom out of us. They’re always looking for ways to take a little. Anyway, I’ve gotta go get some things done. I’ll see ya ’round, maybe later tonight.”
“Sure, if we’re not all under lock and key by then.”
Hunter smirked as they parted.