Dark Inside (2 page)

Mason looked down at his feet. He didn’t want to see any more. His shoelace was coming untied.

Eventually a doctor called his name.

“They’re taking her into surgery,” the doctor told him.
“There’s nothing you can do except wait. We can call someone if you’d like. Are there other family members you’d like us to contact?”

There was no one else. Just Mom and him. Mason’s father had died five years ago, when he was twelve.

“Will she be okay?”

“We’re doing the best we can.”

Not an answer. That wasn’t a good sign.

A nurse brought him coffee. The paper cup burned his fingers, but he didn’t drop it. Instead he raised the liquid to his lips and took a large gulp. Burned his tongue. He barely noticed. He placed the cup on the waiting room table and promptly forgot about it.

His phone began to ring. People glared at him. A mother with two small children looked at him as if he were pure evil. There was a sign on the wall reminding people to turn off their cell phones. No electronics were allowed in the emergency room. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? He hit the off button without taking the call. There was nothing to say, anyway.

More ambulances arrived, and stretchers and paramedics piled in through the doors. The waiting room went from being crowded to ridiculously out of control. Where were all these people coming from? They were beginning to overflow into the hallway. No one seemed to know what was going on.

There was a television mounted in a metal frame above the heads of a young Asian family who didn’t speak a word of English. The grandmother was lying on a stretcher pushed up against the wall by the nurses’ station. The orderlies didn’t know what to do with her. Stretchers filled with people were lining the hallways. The hospital seemed to have run out of room.

The television was turned to a local channel and a talk-show
host was interviewing someone about an upcoming movie. The volume was low, and very few people paid attention. Mason watched for a bit, a helpful distraction although he couldn’t hear the words. He was still pressed up against the vending machine. Glancing at his watch, he discovered it was almost two. He’d been there for four hours and had no idea what was going on. Was his mother still in surgery? He thought about asking the nurse for an update but changed his mind quickly once he saw the line of twenty people screaming for attention. No one else was getting information, why should he be any different?

“Mason Dowell?”

The doctor had stopped in front of him and Mason hadn’t even noticed. He was holding the same clipboard from before and his face was stern and unreadable. Blinking several times, he looked down at the paperwork with heavy eyes.

“Is she okay?” The words blurted out. He hated the sound of his voice. High-pitched. Breathy. Panicky.

“For now.” The doctor wouldn’t look at him. “We’ve managed to stop the internal bleeding, but she’s still unconscious. All we can do is wait. I think it might be best if you go and get some rest. I can try and arrange for someone to take you home.”

“Can I see her?”

“There’s nothing to see. She’s just resting. We’re very busy right now. Go home and get something to eat. Make some phone calls. Come back later tonight and you can see her then.”

Someone gasped.

Both of them turned to look. The waiting room had grown awfully quiet. Everyone stared at the television. Someone rushed over and turned up the volume.

It took Mason a few seconds to realize what he was looking
at. The talk show had been replaced by a news bulletin, somewhere live on location. Fire trucks and police cars blocked the remains of a building. They were using hoses to control the flames that burst through the destroyed structure. Emergency lights flashed and people rushed about, but it was impossible to recognize them because of the smoke and dust.

“I repeat,” the news reporter’s voice said in the background. “Tragedy strikes at local Saskatoon High School. Channel Nine doesn’t know all the details yet, but we believe that four men and three women entered the school around one thirty, armed with explosives. The bombs were ignited in the gymnasium, cafeteria, and about five classrooms. There is no word on who did this or if it’s linked to a terrorist organization. We are not sure of the casualties yet, but estimates are in the hundreds. They’re bringing some of the bodies out now.”

The camera panned over to the building, where officials were bringing out black bags. The glass entrance was destroyed and half the doorway had caved in. Mason had walked through those doors a few hours ago.

“That’s my school,” he said.

No one heard him.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” the reporter said. Her voice was shaking and constrained. She was no longer reading the script; the words leaving her lips were her own. “The whole school has been destroyed. It’s all gone. What kind of monsters would do that?” Tears glistened in her eyes.

The camera panned over to the left as a police officer walked into the shot. His forced expression filled the screen. “If you or anyone you know has children attending the school, please do not come down here. I repeat: Do not come down. There is nothing you can do to help, but there is a number you can call.” Local numbers came up on the screen. “I repeat: Do not
come down. The authorities are busy and cannot help you.”

The camera panned across the parking lot and the hundreds of cars that remained empty. Mason spotted his Toyota Corolla next to a smashed Ford truck covered in rubble. Funny, his car looked untouched. There didn’t seem to be a single scratch.

“That’s my school,” he repeated.

“Son?” The doctor put his hand on Mason’s shoulder. “You’d better go home.”

“Yeah, okay.” The weight of the entire hospital crushed down on Mason’s back. He needed to get out of there and make some phone calls. Find out what happened.

“Let me get someone to take you.” The doctor looked around the waiting room. “Stay here and I’ll go see who’s getting off duty. Give me twenty minutes.”

“No, don’t bother. I can go myself.” Mason zipped up his hoodie. If he hurried, he could get to the school in less than half an hour.

“I don’t think—”

“It’s fine.” Mason stepped backward. “I’m not that far away. I’ve got to go. I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll—um—eat something like you said. Take a rest. Have a shower.”

The doctor smiled. “Do what you’ve got to do. We’ll see you this evening. Your mother is lucky to have you.”

It was still bright and warm outside. Sunny. Beautiful. Shouldn’t it be darker? Mason stumbled over the curb, nearly falling right into the path of an incoming ambulance. He stepped backward as red lights washed over him and the vehicle sped by. His cell phone bounced out of his hoodie pocket, but he managed to grab it before it hit the ground. Turning it on, he remembered that someone had called earlier. There was one new message.

“Dude!” The voice on the recording was his friend Tom. “I heard about your mom. I’m really sorry. Hope she’s all right. I’ll call you the second I’m done with class. Let me know if you’re still in the hospital. I’ll head down. Gotta go. Coach’ll have me running laps if I’m late again.”

There was a beep and a voice asking him if he wanted to replay the message, save it, or delete it.

Running laps. Gym.

Explosives.

Tom had been in the gym along with all the others. Kids he’d grown up with. They were all the friends who shared his life. He should have been in gym. He would have been if it hadn’t been for those four horrible words. Had his mother just saved his life?

He scrolled through his phone until he found Tom’s number. Pressed the button and held it against his ear. Waited for it to ring. Nothing happened. It didn’t go straight to voice mail. Not even a recorded voice telling him to try again.

Ending the call, he looked though his list of numbers. Dozens of them, all friends, every single one had been at the school. If he called them, would he get nothing but dead air? He wasn’t brave enough to try and find out.

Flagging down the first taxi, Mason climbed in and asked the driver to take him to the 7-Eleven a block from the school. He’d walk the rest. He nervously ran his fingers through his tousled brown hair, trying to distract himself; anything to keep him from kicking the backseat and screaming.

He needed to see. To make sure. He wouldn’t allow himself to believe it was real until he saw it with his own eyes.

The man on the bus had gone insane.

At least it seemed that way. He was rocking back and forth in the seat, muttering to himself in a language that Aries didn’t understand. Twice he got up from his chair and wandered down the aisle, stopping every few steps to shake his head and cover his ears. Finally he plopped down in the seat right in front of her and rummaged through the pockets of his coat.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sara hissed in her ear. Her eyes were wide and she was pressed back in her own seat as far as her body would allow. She twisted strands of hair between her fingers, something she did only when she was nervous.

“I think he’s mentally ill,” Aries whispered back. She glanced around, avoiding the stares of other people who were trying hard to pretend the insane man didn’t exist. A few rows in front of her, a guy around her age watched her intently. A book was open in his hands, but he didn’t appear to be reading. His eyes were dark and almost hidden behind his longish hair. He gave her a tiny smirk and she pulled her gaze away, her cheeks burning.

“They shouldn’t allow those sorts of people on the bus in
the first place,” Colin said from the seat behind them. He was the drama king of the school, and Sara thought he was the greatest thing in the world. Aries thought he was arrogant and liked himself a little too much. She put up with him because of Sara. Isn’t that what friends did? They’d been permanently linked since they were little, and she’d walk across fire for Sara. Putting up with an obnoxious boyfriend like Colin was part of the best friend code. She knew she’d put Sara through worse during their years of friendship.

It was a beautiful Vancouver evening, one of the nice ones where it wasn’t raining, and they were on their way back to Clayton Heights High School for rehearsals of
Alice in Wonderland
. Aries had the role of Alice, and Colin was still complaining about Ms. Darcy, the drama teacher’s, choice of play. There was no male lead in
Alice in Wonderland
and Colin was determined to let the entire world know he’d been robbed.

“What if he attacks us?” Sara said. She was going to be the Queen of Hearts, a role, she joked, that had been created just for her. Sara didn’t understand why little girls wanted to be princesses when they could be queens. Even her cell phone had a tiny dangling jewelled crown attached to it.

“He won’t do anything,” Colin said, and he wrapped his arms around Sara. “Not while I’m here.”

The man suddenly let out a stream of cuss words that made almost everyone on the bus blush. Colin’s cheeks reddened, and instantly he didn’t look so sure of himself. Letting go of Sara, he leaned back in his own seat and looked up. Reading the bus ads suddenly seemed more important than reassuring Sara.

Aries rolled her eyes and pressed the buzzer. They were getting off at the next stop. Colin would be able to leave without his cowardice being properly revealed. The moment
they got to school Colin would probably tell the story about how he’d been preparing to stand up to the crazy guy on the bus. Then Sara would smile and kiss him on the cheek and pretend he was the hero he wanted to be. Aries would politely join in, keeping the secret truth to herself. Boys could be ridiculously stupid sometimes.

She looked back at the strange guy. He was still watching her. He’d put the book away, but he wasn’t getting up. One leg rested on the seat, slender fingers tapped absently at his knee. So intense-looking. She tried to place him; did he go to her school? She couldn’t tell for sure.

Colin got up out of his seat, clinging to the safety rail. Sara joined him. Aries zipped up her backpack and was about to move when the insane man turned around and looked right at her. She froze, half off the seat, when he reached out and grabbed her arm. His fingers were icy cold.

“Pretty girlie,” he said. “Brace yourself. It’s about to open.”

“Excuse me?”

“Couldn’t keep it closed forever. Too much hate. They found a crack. Let it out again. Here we go. Ten, nine, eight.” Spittle flung from the man’s lips, and his grip tightened on her arm.

“Let go of me,” Aries said. She pulled backward but it was useless. She grabbed hold of his filthy hand and tried to pry his fingers off. She didn’t want to touch him; his gray skin was clammy. His clothing was filthy and he smelled faintly of spoiled milk. Crumbs were stuck in his beard, and his cheeks were pockmarked and scabbed. Her stomach lurched as she asked him again to let go.

“Hey!” Colin yelled out, but he didn’t move to help. He was frozen. Sara stood beside him, her mouth wide-open, but no sounds came out.

“Seven, six, the cities are collapsing around us. Five!” the man said. “Game over! Four! Hear the screams. Feel the power! Three!”

The bus lurched, rising up over the top of something, and then crashed back to the ground. People fell forward in their seats. There were screams as several people slammed about in different directions. Colin staggered against Sara, sending her down the aisle and crashing against an old lady with groceries. Mandarin oranges rolled away, and a bottle of spaghetti sauce exploded. The strong smell of spiced tomatoes filled the air.

But Aries and the insane man didn’t move. His eyes were fixed on her. She looked right into them.

She expected his eyes to be bloodshot. Crazy people always had bloodshot eyes in books and movies. It was the standard insanity cliché. But his weren’t. They were something else.

The veins in his eyes were black.

“Two.”

The bus lurched again, the driver slammed on the brakes, and more people screamed. They came to a sudden stop in the middle of an intersection, and other cars honked their horns in protest. A sophomore girl was thrown forward, her purse dangling from her shoulders. Her back cracked against the metal railings. People surged out of their seats and onto the floor, trying to get free. But the doors weren’t opening. Men banged their fists against the glass windows.