***
Roger had taken her into the school. Maggie had walked alongside him demurely. She hadn’t fought or even protested. If she walked quietly, without drawing attention, she could save Billy and Johnny. Billy didn’t have a gun. He was still in the car. He had no reason to follow Roger. She could save him. She would save him. Roger held her arm roughly and walked like he had big plans.
Roger’s friends had been alarmed by the gun and scattered every which way, running down the unfamiliar halls and away from the madman they had aided. Roger shouted, shooting wildly, and the glass on a new window pane exploded into the classroom he had taken her to. The police would be coming now. She just needed to find a way to keep herself alive until then. Roger had other plans.
“I think I’m going to kill you, Maggie,” he sneered. “It’s perfect really. I know Kinross has a thing for you. It’ll upset him that you’re dead. I’ll tell the police he was the one who took the gun. I got it out of the trunk of a car he was working on. They’ll believe me. And he’ll go to jail, and his mother will suffer -- maybe worse than if I shot him, which was what I intended. And of course, there’s the bonus of actually watching you die. You ruined everything. Irene says she loves me....but she lies. She wants to get away from me. And it’s all your fault!”
“Johnny doesn’t even know we’re in here,” Maggie replied softly. “Your friends saw YOU with the gun. You’re here, he’s not. Chief Bailey won’t have a hard time putting two and two together. You will be the one to go to jail. You’re eighteen, aren’t you?” Maggie’s mind raced to find something that might scare him. “You might even get the electric chair.” It was Texas in 1958. She was pretty sure that was the method they used for the death penalty.
“Billy followed us in. Didn’t you see him?” Roger snickered. “Johnny won’t be far behind. He’s rather protective of the little guy.” The hand that wasn’t holding the gun touched his bruised jaw gingerly, as if remembering just how protective.
Maggie didn’t know Billy had followed them in. She had drawn him there, and he would draw Johnny. Fear slammed through her. No! She wouldn’t let Roger have Johnny. She whirled on Roger, pushing him with such rage and aggression that he stumbled back, the gun falling awkwardly from his hand. The smirk smeared across his mouth still remained, almost as if he couldn’t believe she had dared cross him. In a flash, Maggie was out of the room, running down the hallway, her red shoe abandoned in flight like a desperate Cinderella, racing against time.
She thought she would hear the gun explode behind her, but she neither slowed nor swerved, flying down the corridors she had seen engulfed in flames in another time. And she wasn’t running from her prince but to him, hoping against hope that time was on her side.
The main hallway on the third floor made a large circle, looping around from the center rotunda’s highest balcony. Maggie wanted to scream but knew her cries would only call Johnny to her and toward the threat that pursued her, so she fled silently, her legs pumping and her bare feet slapping against the glossy new floors.
Johnny stood by the balcony rail. His back was to her as he tried to usher his frantic brother down the stairs. The hallway in which she ran was dark; the brush of moonlight filtered in from the high windows left shadows all around. She thought she could hear Roger behind her but couldn’t separate his breathing from her own. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, expecting to see that he was within an arms length of bringing her down. The hallway beyond was silent and completely empty.
“Johnny!” Billy cried out, pointing at Maggie as she hurtled down the hallway toward them. Johnny swung to greet her, and his face was grim and hard.
“Maggie!” The relief in his voice echoed down the hallway and into her heart.
“Go! We need to go, Johnny.” He swung her up against him, his arms around her, his face in her hair.
“Maggie, where in the hell have you been? And what the hell are you doing here?” His voice was angry, but he held her tightly, contradicting his tone.
“Johnny!” Maggie sputtered. Billy looked dumbfounded, watching the ladies man that was his big brother embracing the mysterious brunette in a siren red prom dress...and no shoes.
“Johnny!” Maggie wrenched herself from him and cried out as Roger Carlton materialized out of the shadowy hallway beyond. He had circled around and come out on the opposite side. Billy and Johnny both stood with their backs to him, unaware that death had come to call. He raised his gun, aiming for Johnny’s back.
Maggie didn’t consciously decide in that moment to do what she did. It wasn’t an act of heroism or sacrifice. It was simply the instinctual nature of a woman to stand between death and those she loves, and that is what she did. She stepped around Johnny, covering him, her arms extended like wings to shelter him. In the same instant, Johnny swung around and, seeing Roger, cried out a warning to his brother. But Roger wasn’t aiming for Billy. The gun exploded and Roger’s bullet struck Maggie, throwing her back violently into Johnny’s arms.
“Maggie!” Johnny cried out in horror as she collapsed against him, causing him to fall back heavily and struggle to keep his feet. Roger shot again, but his aim was skewed with adrenaline, and the bullet veered just right of Johnny’s left shoulder, embedding itself in the wall beyond him.