Getting Home

Part 17

The glass suddenly exploded.

I screamed, instantly putting my hands over my ears and dropping down into a crouch. The glass blew furiously inwards, a nail-bomb of sharp crystal glass projectiles that made loud, rapid-fire THUNKS! as they embedded themselves in the walls and floor. Just as quickly as the thunks started, they stopped.

The remaining glass twinkled as it rained down.

Then complete silence.

I remained frozen, crouched, strands of my hair dangling in my face. I was surrounded on all sides like a moat by giant shards of razor-sharp glass pieces, giant swords that stabbed upwards from the floor like glittering crystal spikes.

A mist of dust hung in the air—it smelled like the school woodshop.

Holy shit. Oh my God.

Somehow, every single piece of glass missed me.

Except one.

A small sliver had somehow grazed my lips, whizzing by like a bullet—it took a few seconds before it began to sting. I touched my lips, blood coming off onto my fingertips.

There was a groan nearby.

Oh no.

Sean.

Sean lay in the middle of the floor, surrounded by even more giant glass shards that jutted up from the floor like crater rocks. I started to make my way over to him, delicately stepping through the minefield of sharp razor-spikes.

Gunfire erupted from somewhere in the building. A lot of gunfire. It was beyond loud, each POP piercing my ears.

Ignore it. Make sure it stays far away from you.

The fire alarm began to blare. The sound was horrible; a piercing, mechanical tone that beeped shrilly at a rhythmic pace... but at a weird and altered pace.

Like... slowed down.

Sean suddenly sat straight up in one violent jerk, puffs of wood dust poofing off him, startling me so much I gasped and clasped my hands over my mouth.

Then I got a look at him.

"Oh my God, Sean..." I trailed off.

Small pieces of glass dangled and stuck out from his hair, shining in the light. But that wasn't the shocking part...

Large shards of glass protruded out from his back and torso, sticking straight out from all sides of his core.

A nightmare version of a human porcupine.

Oh my god, he's dead. There's no way. No way to survive that.

I went right to him, slipping once and almost slicing myself on a giant, waist-high shard of glass sticking up from the pocked floor. The cacophony of gunfire from downstairs roared on—the popping had been joined by loud booms and more rapid-fire popping.

What do I do? Pull the pieces of glass out of him? Just leave them!?

There was no blood yet—I peered closer, so scared, so lost and having no idea what to do.

Then I saw...

All the glass was embedded in his tactical vest.

"Holy shit, Ava," Sean gasped, gulping. "Holy shit. I... I can't believe it. I—I think I'm okay."

Oh thank god. I sagged with relief. "Jesus, Sean. I'd give you a hug, but... you know. Spiky hug of death vest, and all."

Then I noticed his face.