Bloody Sunset by Gwendolyn Harper (inspirational books for students TXT) 📕

back of her neck stood up—a sickening chill running through her much like the night she felt someone watching her and Booker in bed.

Behind them, the school loomed in the cold grey morning light.

Realization twisted in her gut.

“They’re visible from the windows,” Caitlin told them, staring up at the panes of glass. “That side of the building has a few of the classrooms turned into bunks. Whoever did this sleeps in one of those rooms.”

Clutching the modest silver chain her cross hung from, Sister Agnes tried to hold her composure.

“You’re sure?” She asked, voice thinning.

“Not one hundred percent,” Caitlin admitted. “But I have a gut feeling about it.”

“How do you know it’s someone in those rooms?”

Caitlin faced the other woman. “Because I can feel them watching us now.”

Sister Agnes’ grip tightened on her necklace.

“Would make sense,” Booker said, keeping his voice low. “Creep like that would wanna have eyes on their handy work. Keep tabs on anyone pokin’ around…”

“Like we’re doing right now,” Caitlin said.

“Yeah, well let’s have him come on out here and try somethin’,” Booker said, glaring up at the windows. “Least then we’d know who it was.”

“This is certainly concerning behavior,” Sister Agnes started. “But isn’t it possible the individual just needs counseling?”

“They tried to get our home overrun with Geeks,” Caitlin argued. “You were there. You saw the danger everyone was in. I don’t think counseling is going to be sufficient in keeping them from doing something like that again.”

Nodding in understanding, Sister Agnes glanced from Caitlin to Booker. “Then what do you suggest we do when we find them?”

Exhaling with a sigh, Caitlin shrugged. “That’s not up to us.”

“Put it to a vote, just like everythin’ else,” Booker added.

“I try to stay optimistic, even in the darkest of times, but do you really think the majority of our group will grant mercy for this lost soul?” Sister Agnes frowned. “Once everyone finds out the truth, it may be difficult to convince them not to do something irreversible.”

Booker dragged his boot through the thin dusting of snow, exposing dry grass beneath.

“Nobody got killed that day,” he said, looking up. “Maybe… Maybe folks’ll see the sense in not takin’ a life for lives that won’t lost.”

Uncertainty still clouded Sister Agnes’ eyes but she didn’t try to dispute him.

She still held onto hope.

Turning her head, Caitlin stared up at the school again, eyes locked on one window in particular.

Suspicion scratched the inside of her skull, irritating her into a decision.

She’d need more evidence, and a way to find it without getting caught.

But she knew exactly where she’d start looking.

* * * * * * *

Fancy trotted down the hallway, carrying a stuffed bear in her mouth.

“Hey girl,” Booker greeted as they walked by. “Whatcha got there?”

Wagging her tail, Fancy refused to give up the bear. Clearly it was her newest find.

“Hope that didn’t belong to one of the kids,” Caitlin said, watching as Fancy circled them once and continued down the corridor.

Booker chuckled. “A little dog drool never hurt nobody.”

Just as Caitlin was about to tell him how gross that was, a loud discussion around the corner made them both halt.

Men’s voices echoed off the tile and cinderblock.

“…Not true!”

“We saw you…”

“It couldn’t have… You need proof!”

Booker frowned. “That ain’t good.”

Hurrying towards the commotion, they got there just as Edward was shoved by the once mild-mannered Bob.

“Whoa, hey, hey,” Booker called, leaping into the scuffle to break it up. “Y’all, now hold on here!”

Bob jabbed a finger at Edward, face red with anger. “You tell him to back off!”

“You’re the one with a bloody knife and boots hidden under your cot!” Edward yelled.

“You have no proof that’s mine!”

With a hand on Edward’s chest to keep him at arm’s length, Booker turned to Bob.

“Alright, now what’s this about a knife under your bed?”

Taking a breath to steady himself, Bob purposefully kept his gaze away from Edward and the other man who’d joined them.

“I don’t know whose it is,” Bob said. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“Then why’d your bunkmate find with your stuff?” Edward countered.

Booker dug his fingers into the other man’s chest as a warning.

“I don’t know!” Bob ran his fingers through what little was left of his hair. “I’m telling you, it isn’t mine. Someone must have put it there.”

The other guy—Mark, Caitlin thought—scoffed. “Likely.”

Gesturing to him to be quiet, Booker faced Bob.

“Y’gotta admit, it seems a bit suspicious,” he said.

“C’mon, you know me Booker,” Bob pleaded. “You have to believe me. I’m telling the truth.”

“Alright, then help me out here,” Booker said, tone even. “Think, Bob. Who’d wanna put somethin’ like that in with your gear?”

“I have no idea.”

“D’ya see anybody comin’ in or out of your room? Anybody askin’ for you to hold onto somethin’ for ‘em?”

Bob shook his head. “No, but I was on watch duty all night. Anyone could have slipped in and planted it there.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble for someone to go through just to frame you,” Edward argued.

“Frame me for what?” Bob cried. “I haven’t done anything!”

“A’ight, I think we’re gettin’ ahead of ourselves here,” Booker said, motioning for the men to settle down. “Who found the bloody boots and knife?”

“Donna,” Edward told him. “She dropped a pen and when she went to look for it, she found Bob’s knife and his boots hidden under a rag beneath his cot.”

“It’s not my knife,” Bob repeated tersely.

Stepping closer, Caitlin called, “Can I see it?”

The men turned to look at her.

“You want to see his bloody knife?” Mark asked, furrowing his dark brows.

“Everyone in this camp has had blood on their knife at some point,” she