Time Bomb(50)

“That might work,” Tad said, walking over to examine the table with Z. The chemistry desks had withstood a bunch of explosions, and they were still standing. As far as Tad was concerned, they couldn’t get much sturdier than that.

“Help me flip this over,” Z said, scrambling to his feet. “If we can break off the legs, we can use the top as a stretcher.”

Tad grabbed one end as Z grabbed the other and grunted as they tipped the thing over.

“The table won’t work,” Rashid said.

“Why the hell not?” Z glared at him. “A stretcher has to be sturdy, and this is as sturdy as it comes.”

“It’ll never get through the window.” Rashid didn’t raise his voice in response to Z’s anger as he explained, “And even if it could get through with Kaitlin on it, we don’t have ropes strong enough to lower it to the ground.”

“He’s right,” Frankie said. He was standing next to Cas with his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll just have to come up with another plan.”

“. . . looks like the blaze to the south of the building is coming under control . . .”

“We’ll figure something out,” Rashid told Z. “I promise.”

Z went back to the center of the room to rummage through the stuff with Tad. Frankie and Cas joined them as Rashid hurried back toward Kaitlin. Sympathy stormed in his eyes as he felt for a pulse and tried to get her to drink.

They also needed rope, but at this point Tad didn’t see how anything they’d found could be used to make a stretcher. The PVC pipes were obviously the strongest material they had, but as Cas and Frankie tried to come up with a way to use them with other things like the wire or balsa wood, Z was quick to point out the flaws. There was no way to attach them that would hold Kaitlin’s weight.

Frustrated, Tad walked over to stand next to Rashid. “There’s not enough here we can use.”

Rashid nodded. “If we think it’s safe, we could try Mr. Lott’s room. The Robotics Club stores all sorts of things in there.”

“That might be a good idea.” It was. Once again, Rashid was smart and helpful. It made Tad feel worse about everything that had happened earlier. “I’m really sorry about before.” Tad shoved his hands in his pockets and looked over at Rashid. “I mean it,” Tad continued. “I know I was off, and I should have asked you about the phone call instead of just making assumptions. I was scared and I was stupid, and I would totally understand if you don’t forgive me. Hell, I don’t know if I’d forgive me.”

“I called my sister,” Rashid said quietly.

“Huh?”

“The call I made.” Rashid sighed. “I thought I was going to die, and I wanted to talk to my sister so she wouldn’t make the same mistakes I have.”

And Tad thought he couldn’t have felt any worse about how he’d behaved.

Rashid frowned. “Is Diana right?” he asked softly. “Will they really show our pictures on television?”

Tad let out the breath he had been holding in. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a start.

“Yeah.” He wiped his forehead on his shoulder. “We’re probably all over the Internet. When we get out of here, we’ll be famous. They’ll want to interview Diana because of her father, but everyone is going to want to talk to us, too.” And they’d want to know why he was in the school in the first place instead of partying with the football team.

He looked over at Frankie. Tad wasn’t sure what he would say if he was asked. It would serve Frankie right if he told the truth. Maybe—

“That means everyone will see my face,” Rashid said, pulling Tad’s attention back to him. “First they’ll see all of the pictures, and then they’ll see only me.”

Wait. What? No. “They’re going to show all of our pictures. They’ll see all of us.”

“No,” Rashid snapped. “They won’t.” His eyes were hollow. Fear colored every word as he pointed toward the window. “You know they won’t. You just said it yourself. You know what it feels like to be judged by what you look like and instead of who you are, and you still did it. Everyone out there will do it too.”

Tad wanted to tell Rashid that it wouldn’t go that way. That Tad had been stupid, and no one else would be. But there was no point in lying.

Bombs. Terrorism. Muslim. Three things that always seemed to go together.

“The entire world is going to see my picture, and they’ll judge me just like you did. They’ll judge my family.”

Frankie pushed himself up off the floor. “But you’re not the one who bombed this place.”

“No. I’m not,” Rashid said, looking out the window.

Tad searched for something to say . . . anything. But he had nothing. Just a dull ache.

“The governor has put out a statement asking everyone to pray for the safety of those inside the building as well as the first responders who are fighting the blaze, along with the three who were . . .”

Rashid looked back at them all and let out a bitter laugh.

“What?”

“Do you think the governor or anyone outside will pray for me to get out safely?” He lowered his gaze to meet Tad’s eyes. “Not that it matters. This is my punishment for thinking that being like all of you was the answer.”