Now he drops his weight and pulls me onto the floor, clutching me even tighter. I'm covered in his blood. His face is pressed against mine. I can feel his tears running down my own cheek.
I hear a loud, dull whack.
It's the sound of steel against bone. He goes limp, but his arms are still clasped around me.
As he slumps, I see Shanna standing above us. She's holding the bolt cutters like a baseball bat. I realize she's just hit him over the head.
"She said get off her!" Shanna swings the bolt cutters again and drops them down heavily, once again, on his skull.
Now his arms go limp.
I pull away. Shanna helps me stand.
He's still conscious, but he's stunned, rolling on the floor and clutching at his head with his bloody hands, momentarily unable to speak.
"Let's go." Shanna grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the hole in the wall.
Together, we help each of the girls hurry through the hole. I hold onto Shanna's hand as she slips through, then she pulls me through, out into the dark lot.
Already the other girls are scattering away through the night, each back to their own respective homes.
I say something to my sister that I never thought I'd ever say to her again: "Let's go home."
