Carrissa clattered down the stairs, one hand fisted on her hip. The group was trailing single file behind Hazmat as he negotiated the hallways, studying his phone. Every once in a while, without raising his head, he'd turn suddenly and leave them down a different corridor. They travelled in silence, which Carrie broke.

"Maybe they've gone," she suggested hopefully, tossing a glance behind her. Phitz rolled his eyes.

"Sure, Carrie."

Hazmat stopped suddenly, throwing out an arm to herd the others back behind him. He swatted Carrissa across the chest acidentally, and she stumbled back with a gasp.

"You perv..." she screeched as Hazmat slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Be quiet!" He hissed, glancing back around the corner. He glared down at her. "Can you do that?" she nodded, eyes brimming with hatred, and he dropped his hand.

"...vert," Carrissa finished quietly.

Hazmat poked his head back around the corner and groaned under his breath. The corridor appeared clear but he could just see the toes of a pair of black shoes jutting out of a doorway.

"Damn it."

Mr Irving's frown deepened and he stepped forward, trying to look down the hall. Hazmat knocked him back with a hand, pressing him against the wall. Before any of the other's could blink, Mr Irving had pushed his arm aside and was gripping the man by the throat.

Hazmat choked, but managed a grin. "Got some ... fight...in you...gramps."

Coach released his grip slightly so the man could suck in a deep breath. "I don't like you, but you're the best chance of us figuring out what the hell is going on and keeping these kids safe. So you keep your hands to yourself and do your job. Clear?"

Smirking, hazmat nodded. "Crystal."

There was a tense silence as mr Irving dropped his arm and turned away from the other man. Phitz and Austen exchanged an impressed look. Even Carrissa was struck silent.

Hazmat fixed his jacket. "One small issue with your brilliant plan, gramps," he sneered, "that was my emergency exit. I don't know any other ways to get out of the joint."

"How'd you get in?" Phitz asked skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest. It was a menacing action for a solidly built going man.

Ebony noticed, standing against the other wall, that the teens and teachers had formed a semi-circle that herded hazmat against the wall. Even Salena, looking like she was about to cry, was tucked into the line, beneath Ms Smith's arm.

"Sky light," hazmat muttered sullenly, pointing up at the roof. Seven heads flung backwards to glare at the offending window. Ebony didn't bother.

"Maybe we could drag a table...?" Austen suggested weakly.

Hazmat cast him a flat look. "Too loud, too long," he hissed, glancing back to the corridor. "As it is I'm surprised they haven't heard us."

Ms Smith glanced around the dejected group and dared to ask, "so now what?"

"We find another way out."

"And if we can't?"

Ebony turned away from the answer, but heard it anyway. "Then we leave in body bags."

She dug her nails into the wall, making small half-moon indentations in the plaster. She was so sick of being trapped in this damn school.

With that thought, ebony's head jerked up. "The stage."

Austen swivelled to her, brow raised. "What, Ebbie?"

She ignored him, stepping forward and grabbing mr Irving''s jacket. "Coach!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, mr Irving turned to the small girl. "What is it ebony?"

She couldn't hide her smile. "Sir, the stage. There's a store room underneath and it has a window that opens to the delivery street."

He shook his head. "We'd still be trapped within the school grounds."

"Who cares?" hazmat said, pushing towards her, "it's better than be sitting ducks here."

"Because being a moving target is so much better." Ms smith murmured.

Ebony's smile widened. "No. We wouldn't be trapped. That street borders private property. The fence has four broken pickets behind a bush. We can cut through the houses without being seen." She licked her lips. "Hopefully."

There was a chuckle behind her and Austen stepped up to her. "How do you know all that."

"I may or may not have been locked in there at some point during the last school play."

Hazmat grabbed her shoulders, making ebony wince. "Where is the stage, ebony?"

Mr Irving pulled her free. "Its opposite the library. Down this corridor and to the right." He pointed back the way they had come.

"Then let's go" hazmat urged, gesturing them in front if him. He rushed back to the corner to cast a final look at the shoes. There was a scream behind him and he saw a head poke out, several foot above the shoes, and glare at him.

"Shit!"

He span around as feet pounded on linoleum behind him and cursed again, reaching down to haul a whimpering ebony to her feet. Tears were threatening to run down her cheeks as she clutched her shoulder. Carrissa stood to the side, dusting her hands and looking disgusted.

Hazmat lost it. "Move it!" He thundered.

Austen grabbed ebony's hand an and tugged her down the hall after Salena and ms smith. Finnegan stumbled along after them with Phitz and Carrissa hot on their tails. Mr Irving hesitated.

"Hazmat..."

The man glared at him. "Shuffleboard it, gramps!"

Coach nodded sharply, turning away as Haz drew out his gun. He took a deep breath, muttering softly. "3, 2, 1." He leant around the corner and fired two shots, hitting the first suit in the chest. His second bullet charged past a startled 2nd man who hadn't been expecting gunfire and threw himself behind a locker. Haz ducked back into the corridor, and shrugged his shoulders.

"2 stones, 1 bird."

Before he rounded into the next hallway, mr Irving glanced back, just in time to see Haz lean to the side to shoot. The other suit had the same idea and took a bullet to the chest for the effort. His own bullet veered off course and imbedded itself in Haz's thigh. He grunted and collapsed against the wall. With pain filled eyes and gritted teeth, he saw Anthony at the end of the corridor.

"Go," he growled.

For one moment, mr Irving glanced the way the others had gone, torn. The moment passed and he sprinted back to Hazmat.

"What are you doing?" grimaced Haz, gripping his bleeding let with both hands.

Me Irving skidded to a halt, kneeling beside him. "Shut up." He dragged his shirt off over his head, tearing down from the collar.

"Aw, geez!" the other man groaned, but his complaints turned into growls of pain as mr Irving tied the cloth as a tourniquet just above the bullet wound. He grabbed the gun from the floor and tucked it into his waistband.

He took Haz's hands and hauled him to his feet. "Come on," he muttered, looping the man's arm over his shoulders.

"If you wanted to hold my hand," Haz said, smirking through the pain as he hobbled slowly down the hall, "you could have just asked. I would have said no, but I'd prefer that to getting shot."

Mr Irving grunted, picking up the pace. "You're bleeding on my favourite shirt. Shut up."