Sooner or later, everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences
~Robert Louis Stevenson
***
The four stood at different positions of the semi-trailer, each moving about. The worry on their faces was real, with the undeniable restlessness to account for it. They occasionally threw glances at each other, each wondering what the other was thinking about. To someone who had just met them, they seemed like four kids who were perhaps worried that they snuck out without permission, when in reality, their worries and fears were placed on something far much worse.
“Are we going to pretend like we didn’t fucking see what happened!” Jeff asked, his hands trembling. Of course, he was the most sensitive of them all, and what had just happened hit his nerves harder than the wrecking ball on Miley Cyrus' music video. The others hardly looked at him; each was too much engrossed in what had just happened.
“How can we just dismiss what had happened Jeff?” Marcus was almost shouting. He hadn't planned for things to go that bad. He slowly squatted as guilt came creeping up into him.
No, I shouldn’t have rushed things like that, he blamed himself.
“You think anyone survived?” Luis asked. He appeared the most settled out of the four. His training in combat had taught him to be calm and composed when faced with a crisis. He held onto the teaching of his master:
Never let the fear win. If it wins, then the enemy wins.
“Did they all just die?” Michelle was now breaking down. Up until then, she had managed to maintain that wall; the wall that kept her from finally cracking. However, the wall had suffered some cracks, with Sheila's death hitting it bad. Back to Miley Cyrus' video, her wall came crumbling down after what she and the others had just witnessed at Arabella Academy. Something that would haunt them for the next couple of months.
One & A Half Hours Ago:
Gunshot.
Silence.
Marcus turned back to confirm what he had just heard. He had read from somewhere that if you heard the sound of the bullet then you weren’t dead, but then the shock of the gun sounding numbed his body, disabling his sense of touch. His head turned slowly, his worst fear at the moment confirmed when he saw Maxwell’s body right on the floor, blood oozing from it. He had jumped right in front of Calvin when Arnold decided to take the shot, and his selfless act cost him his life. He wasn't still dead but was struggling to breathe, and it was as visible as the hypocrisy of a self-proclaimed righteous that he was going to die.
Marcus stood glued to the ground, certain that this was his end. They say that one's life flashes before his eyes. For Marcus, all the things that he hadn't done yet were the ones that flashed before his eyes. He was sure, for a moment, that anytime his dead body would be dropping on the hard, cold tiles of Arabella Academy's hallways. However, Calvin still had one last card to draw, one that was sure to make a lot of damage.
To everyone’s shock, Calvin fished out a pistol from his trousers. Filled with rage, he acted quicker than his opponents did and managed to shoot Arnold and Stevens just under the chest, not enough to kill them but enough to immobilise them. But that timeframe was enough to get Clement to cock his gun and shoot Calvin in the leg; a grave mistake he later realised for the adrenaline coursing through Calvin's veins couldn’t be stopped by a bullet in his leg. In return Clement got himself just as immobilised as his other two comrades, trying his best not to stop breathing, and witnessing his death approach slowly.
“Quick! Get out of here. I'll meet you at the garage,” Calvin yelled at the four tens, who were still in shock from the scene they had just witnessed. They immediately snapped back to reality and their scared faces went to the bodies of Stevens, Arnold and Clement lying there on the floor.
“Should we call the police?” Jeff asked, freaking out.
“Don't you fucking dare call the police!” Calvin's face suddenly turned into a dark one, and Marcus realised that this was a side of Calvin they hadn't seen before. One that had suffered the betrayal of three selfish men who only cared about themselves, and one that had just witnessed the murder of his overnight best friend. Calvin turned to them.
“Grab Maxwell and get out of here! Right now! I'll follow you once I clean this mess up,” he said, kicking away the gins from the other three who had just been shot. Marcus and Luis obeyed and they immediately grabbed Maxwell’s dying body from the floor, struggling to carry it out of the school, leaving a trail of red behind them. They dared not to look back, fearing that in doing so they might hallucinate that Stevens was still after them. They managed to get out of the tuition block, but not too far from it Maxwell gave up.
“Leave me guys, I can't go ahead,” he breathed weakly. Marcus and Luis placed him down just beside a tree, his back on the trunk.
“No, Maxwell. You cannot die on us. We'll get you to a hospital,” Marcus tried to reassure him.
Maxwell shook his head as he coughed out some blood.
“Marcus, this is the end of the road for me. This is where I pay for all the bad I did. For joining that evil gang, for helping in covering up a murder, for trying to attack you guys,” he spoke, his voice failing him. Tears started falling from his eyes, and the other four couldn’t control them either, letting them flow freely.
“No, you didn’t Maxwell. You don’t deserve this. You were forced,” Michelle cried out, but the words were of no use, it was obvious that Maxwell wouldn’t make it. They circled around him, each too hurt that such a young man had suffered so much, only to have his life taken from him so early.
“That’s the problem, Michelle. I could have done something, and maybe we wouldn't be here,” Maxwell was now struggling to talk, hitting a few pauses in between his speech. He turned his eyes painfully to Marcus.
“Kids, you need to promise me something,” he said, his body shutting down.
“Anything,” Jeff replied, his tears still flowing.
“Promise me,” Maxwell paused. “Promise me that you'll find Sheila's killer.”
And before Maxwell got an answer from the four, he breathed his last, his eyes closing and body falling to one side. Michelle broke into a sob and fell into Marcus' arms, her body trembling. Jeff also fell into Luis' embrace, each crying their hearts out. It was a new point for the four; one in which would define their relationship. But what pained them more was leaving Maxwell's body there as they ran away.
For Maxwell had no family.
His corpse would have no one to claim it.
“Maxwell shouldn’t have died,” Marcus spoke after a long minute of silence.
“He was a good man. He just saw the light a little too late,” Jeff remarked.
Suddenly they were brought to alert by a sound out in the yard. They held their breaths, each one half-expecting to see Stevens' head pop into the semi-trailer. However, they were relieved when they saw Calvin's face appear, handsome but void of any expression. He had covered himself in a familiar jacket, and on entering he took it off, exposing the red his clothes were soaked in.
“What happened?” Michelle asked, fear in her voice.
“I killed them. I killed those murderers,” Calvin replied, a distant look in his eyes. His voice didn’t even show any emotion. It was just there, the extra bass adding to the coldness.
“Won't the police come looking for them?” Jeff was getting worried. Calvin turned to face them.
“No word of this is going to any police. Whatever happened in that school, remained in that school. Unless you want to explain to the sheriff why there are three dead bodies buried in that school.
“Where is Maxwell's?” Marcus asked the question on everyone's minds.
“I’ve brought it back with me. It's in one of the cars. I'll see if we can give him a proper burial,” Calvin answered and sighed, the tears coming back to everyone's eyes. Calvin faced the four.
“I don't think I'll stay in Middlewood after what has happened,” he confessed. “I need a fresh start. A new slate. It's not possible here after everything I've done today,” he looked away. The others slowly nodded.
“We know you deserve one. Stevens ruined your life, but you now have a second chance at life,” Marcus spoke for all the others.
“Okay then. I'll need to get rid of this blood first of all. I'll be right back,” he paused and looked back. “I hope we all agreed to keep this to ourselves?”
The four teens nodded their heads in agreement, and Calvin left the semi-trailer to go clean himself up. The other four were left back, glancing at each other in apprehension.
“What happens next?” Jeff addressed Marcus.
Marcus wore a serious face.
“We find that murderer, and we make him pay for all the dead bodies he's caused.”
Marcus opened the door to his house quietly, hoping that his mother wasn't in the living room. Some traces of blood were still on his clothes, despite the fact that he had passed through Jeff's house and borrowed one of his large hoodies after they snuck in through the window. Luck was on his side as his mother was busy at the kitchen, preparing their supper. He stealthily ambled to the other side of the living room and made a break for it to his room even before his mother realised there was someone in the house. He finally entered his room and hastily closed the door and locked it.
“Marcus, is that you?” his mother knocked at his door and tried to open it.
“Yeah mom,” Marcus replied, getting out of his clothes and throwing them inside his wardrobe.
“What are you doing in there. You know I don't like it when you lock your door,” Jane told him, waiting for him to open the door.
“Sorry, mom. I was just undressing. Needed to take a shower,” Marcus explained. He really wished his mother would be out of his neck.
“Okay then. But will you hurry up? I need to talk to you about something,” said Jane.
Marcus finally opened the door. Before that, he had grabbed one of his clothes and scrubbed off the bloodstains on his skin. He plastered a smile on his face and faced his mother, who in return stared at him as if he was a mad person.
“What did you want to talk about?” Marcus asked, his breath unusually loud.
His mother stepped into the room and carefully scanned around. Marcus suddenly stiffened up and unwillingly threw glances to the wardrobe, hoping his mother wouldn’t check there. After Jane had ensured nothing was amiss, she took her gaze back to her son.
“Tomorrow I'll be going for a business trip to Vale City. I've been chosen to be in charge of some business dealing my boss wants finalised,” she spoke.
“When will you be back,” Marcus asked, partly happy that he was going to get the house to himself.
“Since I'm travelling on road, it's safe to say that I'll be back two days after tomorrow. Are you able to take care of yourself or should I bring you with me?”
“No, mom. I'll be okay. You go do whatever you do best. I'll be safe here, and if there's a problem I'll go to Mrs Fletcher, hopefully when her husband is not around,” Marcus replied.
“Okay then Marcus. I'll leave you to your bathing, and make sure you scrub yourself well. You stink like a pig,” Jane remarked as she made her way out of his room. Marcus chuckled and then nodded, making his way to the shower. As he opened the taps and the water trickled down his body, he recalled the time he was sure he was about to die, and what he wished he had done.
It was the same thing Maxwell wished for before he died.
The footage was now being played for the sixth time. Rocco was in his small office, looking at the video once again. He watched with interest as Arnold shot Redhound, and then Calvin shot the other three. He then paused the footage, copied it into his private folder and replaced it with a loop of an empty hallway. He then poured some more champagne into his glass and slowly sipped it, waiting for Stewart’s call. Sure enough, his phone rang.
“Anything today,” Stewart asked from the other end.
“No, sir. Nothing happened today at your precious school,” Rocco replied.
“Good. Tell me if anything comes up?” Stewart said and hang up.
Rocco glared at the screen for a little while. He then dialled another number and called it.
“Boss,” a voice sounded from the other end of the call.
“The plan goes into action tomorrow. You know what to do,” Rocco spoke.
“Yes, boss. I'll personally be there to ensure everything is successful,” the voice replied. The call ended, and Rocco placed the phone on his table.
He then continued to sip his drink, the sounds of the night keeping him company.