Cutting Up The Competition (Horror High #2) (14 page)

Chapter

Forty-Nine

I tossed and turned all night, getting up out of bed to reread Sydney’s letter nearly a dozen times.
Could it really be true? Her grandma had that disease that impacts your memory?

If what she said was true, the police would figure it out and release her any day now. And that was a good thing…

But the bad thing—if Sydney wasn’t the killer, then that meant the real killer was still out there, lying low and waiting to strike again.

Chapter Fifty

I was up before six in the morning, leaving one message after another for Detective Simms. “Please call me. It’s an emergency. You guys have the wrong girl…” I said to his voicemail box for the fifth time before getting dressed for school.

I rode the bus in silence, staring out at the streets of Harrow Hill, wondering how I could have been so stupid to assume my best friend could do such horrible things…

By the time I got to first period, I was so deep in thought that when Principal Barlow came on over the intercom, I had no clue she was about to announce the results of cheerleading tryouts.

I’d forgotten all about cheerleading announcements…

I sat up straight in my seat, trying to force myself to get excited, or in the very least
nervous
.

But I was just too worried about my friend to focus on something as frivolous as cheerleading.

“Attention, students. I would like to announce the following six girls who have made the team, as well as the two alternates I’ve chosen,” Coach Davis said, taking over the mic from Principal Barlow.

“Congratulations to…Winter Addams, Brittani Barlow, Blakely Clovers, Lauren Delancey, Dakota Densford, and finally…”

Finally, I was listening.
I braced my hands on the sides of my desk.

“Amanda Loxx,” Coach finished. I let out a sigh of relief, realizing making the team meant more to me than I thought.

The intercom crackled and Coach Davis continued with her announcement:

“The following two girls have been chosen as alternates. Congratulations to Ashleigh Westerfield and Gabriella Michaels. The six girls I’ve chosen should stay after school tomorrow to get fitted for your uniforms. In addition to uniforms, we will be practicing. We must get straight to work, girls…we need to catch up for the time we have lost this season.”

My classmates congratulated me and Winter. Winter was beaming ear to ear, thrilled to be chosen for the team. She nudged me across the aisle. “Smile! You just made the cheerleading team, silly!”

I did smile, but it definitely felt forced. I couldn’t help thinking about Sydney, and how I’d cost her a spot on the team…

I spent the rest of the school day trying to enjoy the moment, but falling short every time…I had to get a hold of Detective Simms and make sure Sydney was released. That was my only concern for the time being.

Chapter

Fifty-One

The Sociopath

I laid out my clothes for school, careful to smooth out the wrinkles in my black shirt and pants. I lined up my black combat boots side by side, wiping off smudges on the heels.

Then I laid out my black ski mask and gloves, along with the note I had written.

But most importantly, I had to get my backpack ready and what I was packing inside…

I stared at the note, my choppy writing, enjoying the words I had written:

Bang Bang choo choo train

Watch the Dragons do their thang!

The crowbar, the knife

Nothing works!

But I know how to blow apart those smirks.

Game time is near

And I’m number one.

I can’t wait for all of you…

To face your opponent—my gun.

My grandfather’s gun, old but shiny, had become a welcome friend of mine. It was almost too big to fit inside my backpack, but I had managed to get it in last year so I knew I could this time too. Sliding it inside, I zipped the pack, placing it on the bed next to my clothes and shoes.

The time had finally come.

Game time.

Chapter

Fifty-Two

Amanda

I was literally fuming as I rode the bus again to school. Still no calls from Detective Simms. That asshole was avoiding me!

I took my seat in the back of the bus, watching out the rear window as Dakota pulled away in her Cavalier.

And screw her too! She’s treating me like I killed someone, instead of making a mistake!

Winter tried to talk my ear off in chemistry lab. I nodded, saying the appropriate “oohs” and “aahs,” all the while my mind was somewhere else.

I had to go see Detective Simms today after school. I had to set the record straight once and for all to make sure he understood the truth—Sydney was innocent.

All Winter could talk about was getting fitted for uniforms. “Do you think we’ll get our pompoms today too?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I practically growled at her.

I walked with Winter to second period—Brit Lit—avoiding Dakota’s glare as I entered. Expecting her to ignore me as usual, I was surprised when she plopped down in Sydney’s empty seat in the back, right beside me.

“I talked to Sydney last night,” she said, smiling.

“You did?” I asked, mouth gaping open. “Is she okay?”

“She is. And she made me promise to stop being mad at you, even though I want to be mad at you still.”

Dakota looked at me, her lips pouty. But then they curled up on the edges, the smile of a familiar friend.

“They’re letting her out. Due to lack of evidence. And I’m pretty sure Coach Davis will let her back on the team,” Dakota said.

I wasn’t so sure about that last part, but I was happy to hear Sydney was getting out. I let out a sigh of relief. For the first time in weeks, I felt some weight release from my shoulders…finally things could get back to normal.
Sure, there was still a psycho on the loose, but at least that psycho wasn’t my best friend.

I said, “I know she’s innocent. And I’m really sorry. I just jumped the gun—”

“Gun!” someone screamed from somewhere outside the classroom.

For a minute, it took my brain to register…

“He has a gun!” someone else screamed from down the hallway. I exchanged confused glances with Dakota.

Two gunshots rang out, followed by dozens of screams. People were running down the hallway!

My heart leapt into my chest, my body paralyzed with fear. I stared at Dakota. She was wearing a mask of pure terror.

“Everybody! Get under your desk and take cover!” Coach Davis shouted, running over to close our classroom door.

But before she could make it, there was a loud bang. I watched Coach Davis soar across the room, a baseball-sized hole in her gut.

Chapter

Fifty-Three

The shooter stood in the doorway, dressed in all black, a ski mask covering his face. Two piercing eyes moved side to side—it was all I could see through the mask.

Students were screaming, huddling up in the back of the classroom. Some of them were crying.

Some of them were praying…

I got down on the floor behind my desk, holding as still as possible. From here, I could see the shooter’s bottom half as he came further inside the room and walked toward us, making his way through the aisle.

I flinched at the sound of another loud bang. More screams rang out.

Had he shot someone else?

Oh God, Coach Davis is dead…

I placed a hand over my mouth and nose, trying not to scream or cry out. Looking sideways, I met eyes with Dakota. Like me, she was on the floor behind her desk.

I’ve never been this scared in my life.

Dakota placed a finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet. Then she pointed her finger toward the doorway.

Surely, she wasn’t suggesting that we try to make a run for it…

But then I remembered something that I heard once…that if you’re ever being kidnapped at gunpoint, you have a better chance of living if you make a run for it than if you let the kidnapper take you.

Decidedly, I nodded at Dakota.

I could hear movement near the back of the room. “No, please don’t!” one student said.

We have to go now while we’re closer to the door than he is! If we don’t get help, we’ll all die!
I realized.

I mouthed the word “now” to Dakota, and we both took off running for the door, sounds of gunfire ringing out behind us.

Chapter

Fifty-Four

I hoped and prayed that all of those miles Coach Davis made us run would pay off. We sprinted down the hallway, making a quick right down an adjacent, shorter hallway.

The halls were eerily empty, students hiding and silent in their individual classrooms.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

The killer was following me and Dakota!

I need to call the police!
Horrified, I realized my cell phone was in my backpack—and my backpack was still in the classroom, under my desk. Useless to me…

Dakota and I stood frozen, not moving. Maybe not even breathing.

And that’s when we heard it…there was a voice shouting—no, not shouting.
Chanting.

“One. Two. Three. Four.

Knock those Dragons on the floor!”

The killer was coming!

“Five, six, seven, eight.

You can run like rabbits, but it’s too late.”

“In here,” I whispered to Dakota, yanking her further down the hall, slipping inside my Child Development classroom. The room was empty this period. I closed the door to the classroom as quietly and quickly as possible, my heart thumping in my chest.

Dakota immediately dove behind Mrs. Brooch’s desk, crawling up underneath it. Making a quick decision, I ran for the closet.

I’d seen the inside of it a few times. It was a huge walk-in space, filled with plastic dummy dolls, including the artificial infants, as well as CPR mannequins.

Darting inside the closet, I dove beneath a stack of dolls, holding my breath and keeping as still as possible.

In the quiet, I could hear footsteps only a few classrooms away—heavy footsteps, the killer’s boots—and then suddenly, another gunshot went off. The gun was close, only one or two classrooms away.

My entire body tensed up and I willed myself not to move a muscle.

What would I do if the killer found me? I thought about my mom and grandma. I thought about all my friends. Oh God, please let them be safe…

Now the killer was whistling, footsteps sounding closer and closer to us…

I took one deep breath and held it, praying that the killer just moved past us.

There’s no reason to call her “the killer” anymore…I already recognized her voice.

Chapter

Fifty-Five

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The killer stepped inside the classroom. Walking slowly, she moved past the big chunky tables. I could hear her steady feet moving as she kicked aside chairs and anything in her path.

“How about a game of Marco Polo?” she taunted. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing for this to be over.

“There you are, Dakota!” My heart literally froze in my chest. “Get up on your feet! I’m going to enjoy this part!”

I could hear Dakota whimpering, begging the shooter not to kill her. I had to do something.

I
had
to do something.

I jumped up from where I was ducking and came running out of the closet, holding one of the plastic CPR dummies in front of me like a shield.

“Don’t do it! Take me instead.” I was out of the closet, now face to face with the shooter.

She was holding the gun pressed to Dakota’s head, peering at me through the ski mask with bright green eyes.

Dakota’s eyes were closed, her body shaking. I’d never seen someone so scared before…

“Let her go,” I pleaded.

The killer laughed. “Now
why
would I do that?”

She pressed the gun harder against Dakota’s temple. Dakota whimpered in pain.

“Because this is crazy. You don’t really want to hurt anybody, do you?” I asked.

Another maniacal laugh. I had to admit—my question was stupid.

I took a few steps forward. “Please, just let Dakota go.”

“Again, why would I do that? Especially considering the fact that I plan on killing you both?”

“Because Sydney was charged with the murder. No one even suspects it was you,” I suggested desperately, gripping the mannequin so tight that my fingernails were digging into the artificial skin.

“You must think I’m stupid. I know they’re letting her out. I know my plan didn’t work, and I didn’t even make the team…”

Out of nowhere, Brittani Barlow came charging through the classroom door.

“Not this time, you don’t!” Brittani screamed, holding a serrated knife in her hand as she ran.

I don’t know what was more frightening—Brittani Barlow with a maniac’s knife or the masked killer holding the gun.

The killer
, I decided instantly.

“Ahhhh!” Brittani screamed, charging straight at the shooter.

The killer was so surprised by Brittani that she stumbled back, releasing Dakota. But then she got her bearings and aimed the gun at Brittani’s chest right as Brittani lifted the knife. She pulled the trigger.