A chorus of gasps rang out, wispy clouds of breath exploding in the chilly night air.

"How is that even possible?"

"That still doesn't explain how you knew we'd be here," Azalea's dad persisted as if I'd said nothing.

"I didn't," Principal Hollendale answered. "And that's why I followed you." He shook his head. "Callista wouldn't give me a straight answer; she just kept going on and on about how some freak in a Halloween costume offered to pay her and Ryan a thousand dollars each to keep Hunter away from Hannah's house. So that's where I went. But right as I was driving up, I saw the three of you leaving—so I followed you." He sighed. "Now, please, Staley. We're wasting valuable time—"

"No," Azalea's dad retorted. "I don't believe you. We would have noticed a car following us all the way here from Hannah's home."

"I drove with the lights off! For crying out loud, are you really going to stand here and argue this with me? Azalea could be—"

CLICK! CLICK!

Standing in the middle of the parking lot, all four of us turned instantly back to the entrance as the snapping echo of heavy boots thundered across the pavement. Under light so feeble that it felt to be perpetually fading, a slim and feminine figure approached us with lengthy, undaunted strides, a smooth mask of lace covering every inch of her face.

What the—?

No sooner than we'd spotted her, her right arm sprung from her side as she aimed a dark, glinting barrel through the frigid wintry air.

"Get down!" I yelled, instinctively tackling Hannah behind my car as two shots rang out. I heard Principal Hollendale scream once, then a heavy thud against cracked and gravelly asphalt.

"Principal Hollendale!" I called out, rushing from behind my car to where he'd fallen to the ground.

POW! The blazing, impossible speed of another gunshot ripped through the air inches in front of my face, the heat of it sizzling a trail of smoke as I stumbled backwards, elbows smashing the concrete just as another bullet ripped into the asphalt beneath me. I pushed myself up as fast as I could, tiny rocks flying off as I darted back behind my car.

"Hunter," Hannah began, breathing frantically, "Hunter, what do we do? That psycho's gonna kill us!"

"Stay behind me," I ordered, grabbing her hand in mine. "No matter what happens, stay behind me."

The click-clack of those awful high heels crackled closer and closer, not dropping their speed for even an instant as they echoed against the pitiless night.

A final step clicked as that lithe, willowy figure stood mere feet away from us—predator shielded from prey only by the distance of a single car length as her shadow seeped menacingly to the vehicle's underside.

Would she dash around it in moments and blast us both? Would she bolt around the left or blitz from the right? I gripped Hannah's hand for strength one last time, then nodded left at her before digging in my heels upon the pavement, readying to propel myself to full height and lunge across the hood.

SCREECH!

That thin and sordid shadow drew suddenly away at the sound of heavy tires grinding speedily against the asphalt and skidding through the parking lot entrance, the driver barreling for the woman as his exhaust whirred plumes of smoke carried by the wind.

She sprang like lightning from beside our car, diving to the gravel as the forbidding roar of the mysterious driver's automobile zoomed past. Under the droning buzz, I made out more heel clicks, still frantic but this time growing fainter.

She's...running? I hesitated, shook my head. No—she's going inside...where Azalea is.

Both of Hannah's hands had moved to cover her ears as she sat with legs pulled tightly against her chest. On shaky feet, I managed to stand up, to glance toward the parking lot's back edge where the driver who saved us was stepping out into the night.

"A-Alex?" I sputtered.

"Nice to see you too, Hunter," he joked as he raised a pistol of his own from behind the vehicle's front door.

I gasped. "Where'd you get the—?"

"My dad. He keeps a gun," Alex said. "I swung by my house to pick it up before coming here, just in case."

I nodded. "Thanks."

"Oh my gosh!" Hannah screamed from behind me. "Principal Hollendale!"

I whipped around, eyes widening as I sprinted to his side. "Principal Hollendale! Principal Hollendale!" I screamed.

A large pool of blood had begun to spread across his shirt, pulsing out of a hole the size of a fingertip that throbbed with the heaving of his chest.

"H-Hunter," he breathed in between coughs of blood. "Hunter, I know her...the woman in lace. Sh-she came to my office...she came when Eric...when he..."

"What?" I gasped. "Principal Hollendale, what are you—?"

"Listen!" he shrieked. "She's the one who took the pictures—the reason he was expelled!"

"Who!?" I asked. "Principal Hollendale, who is she!?"

"L—Lu...Lu...." His voice trailed off as blood choked out his words. His eyes began to shake, the pale light inside them shivering at once to dart away, to drift into nothingness.

"Principal Hollendale, no!" I looked up frantically, glancing from Hannah to Alex.

"Guys," I screamed. "Call the police!"

"Hunter, it's no use," Alex said somberly.

I looked away, tears brimming at the base of my eyes. "He was just trying to help," I said weakly. "He just wanted to save Azalea!"

I took a deep breath, every last drop of gloom and sorrow that I felt morphing suddenly, irrevocably, into an unbending and unequivocal rage. "It ends now," I growled, my teeth clenching as I spoke. I stared ahead, eyeing Scofield-Andrews, readied at last to face those who waited within. "It ends now!"