INCEPTION

BENEATH THE SURFACE

Genre-Crime

There was gunfire all over by now. Pops and bangs filled the hallways of James K. Polk High School. This was the day the four of them had waited for, for years. "Montana" and "Idaho," as they had code-named themselves walked briskly down the "200-wing" of the school, both of them wielding a single action.45-caliber Colt peacemaker revolver in hand. As they strutted along, their Wild West style leather dusters flapped behind them in the wind. They each carried two revolvers on them,but used only one of them at a time. They weren't experts and couldn't handle the recoil of firing akimbo. They carried their revolvers in leather holsters hanging aside each of their hips. Montana and Idaho were heading for theirnext target, Nick Lowell. He was a very popular kid as well as a football player. Tall, handsome, blonde haired, blue-eyed, the owner of a classic muscle car, a genuine big man on campus. "Wyoming" and "Iowa," they're fellow co-conspirators, were tied up somewhere on the west side of the school, finishing off some other targets. The intermittent cracks of.45-caliber shells attested to that. So far the specific elimination of their targets had not been too big a problem for Montana and Idaho. Their targets hadn't been hiding too welland didn't resist too much. They had "taken care" of a good number of them so far, but still had some more to go. Their list of targets was quite long after all. Montana and Idaho turned down into a vacant hallway, the clip-clopof their combat boots echoing through the silence. In the middle of the hallway was the entrance to the school cafeteria. Lowell shouldbe hiding in there, according to his class schedule. Lowell was indeed in there as well as two other listed targets, Forrest and Matt, his close friends and teammates. They flanked himas they crouched under their table. It was quietin the cafeteria, no one said a word, no sound could be heard except the whirring of the air vents. Forrest muttered under his breath, "How did it come to this?" He got no reply from anyone. Outside the cafeteria, Montana and Idaho were scant meters away. They clicked the hammers back on their Colt peacemakers and blasted the locked cafeteria doors open with two precise shots and one hard kick. They turned sharply into the cafeteria and headed straight for Lowell's table, where he always sat with his friends every lunch period. Lowell, Forrest, and Matt looked up meekly at the approaching gunmen. As soon as Montana came within ten yards of them, he levelled his revolver and fired a shot that tore through Forrest's chest. Idaho did likewise milliseconds later firing a fatal shot into a cowering Matt. Both Forrest and Matt sloped forward, dead without so much as a cry. Montana and Idaho clicked the hammers back on their revolvers once again. "You had the perfect life Lowell, but you fucked it up. Your stepfather is right, you're a mistake and afailure," Montana taunted him at gunpoint. The next few seconds seemed to crawl by in slow motion. Lowell exploded in anger; he shot up and charged Montana yelling, "I'll kill you!" He raised his fist high to strike. Montana, however,was light-years ahead of his move and followedLowell with his revolver, the large diameter barrel never straying from the center mass of it's target. Just as Lowell was almost within striking distance of him, Montana let off a shotthat hit Lowell right where the neck meets the torso. Lowell's raised arm fell weakly to his side, his other hand desperately clutched at historn throat. He began making a horrible gurgling, dying sound. For a few seconds Montana and Idaho stood motionless, watchingtheir hated classmate die slowly in fantastic agony. Then abruptly Idaho raised his revolver and fired a finishing shot into Lowell's forehead. Lowell fell forward dead, landing so hard on the cafeteria hard tile floor that brain matter splattered on Montana's boots. "It's done." Idaho told Montana gravely. They turned toward the entrance of the cafeteria. A hundred pairs of eyes looked out at them from under the tables of the cafeteria, watching with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Iowa and Wyoming came into view at the doorway. Upon seeing Montana and Idaho and the mess they had made, Iowa hollered, "Yeehaw!" "Kevin and Stan have been taken care of. Who is next?" Iowa shouted across theroom. "I've got to go to the woods." Montana said, turning to Idaho. "The woods? There might be twenty cops between the school and the woods, you'll never make it. You'll be cut topieces." Idaho raged at Montana. "I know thereis a lot of firepower, but I've got to go, trust me. I can make it. You stay here with Iowa and Wyoming, they need your help." Montana explained in an even tone, he was calm, almost too calm given the situation. "Whatever," Idahosighed, resigned to the situation, waving his arm in Montana's direction. They shook hands, knowing they'd likely never see each other again. Who could have predicted a gym class friendship would end like this? With that Montana took off sprinting across the cafeteria and out the back door. When Montana reached outside the school, he dashed across a small paved road, then jumped over a fence. As he began to run across a baseball field, he heard the shouts and commands of police officers, ordering himto the ground. He ignored the voices and pressed on, jumping another fence and running across a football field. Some of the voices became distant, others retained their volume, he sensed he was being chased. Just afew more seconds is all he needed. He hopped a third fence and at last crashed through the forest brush, down a short muddyhill, and came to a rest on the bank of a brook.Montana stood up, then kneeled down in a praying position. He looked up at the sky. "I've done it, sis." He said out loud to no one in particular. He was standing in the exact spot that his sister had been ganged raped on after a football game just six months earlier. She'd been gang raped by none other than Nick Lowell, Forrest, and Matt, who deliberately lured her in, drugged her, then took turns as she lay in a barely conscious state on the banks of the brook. Afterwards pictures and video of the event went viral. Two months laterwhen it was clear that no one believed her and none of her rapists would ever be charged, shehung herself. Montana never quite got over the loss of his younger sister, whom he vowed to his father on his deathbed to always protect. Lowell also had a reputation around school as a domestic abuser, giving black eyes to multiple dates of his. Idaho, Wyoming, and Iowa had their reasons too. Bullying, harassment, social justice, pick your poison, their targets had been nonetheless deserving of the fate they got. Kevin and Stan, for instance, were homophobic bullies; harassment was a year round sport for them. They were two of the main instigators of a year-long harassment campaign against a local gay youth who later took his own life. Yes, though bloody, you can't say the events of theday were without reason or that it was some impulsive act by some mentally ill hothead.Now Montana heard rustling in the brush behind him. Harsh voices shouted again for him to drop his weapon. "Make a move and you're dead!" a stern voiced screamed. Slowly, Montana stood up. He did not turn around. "I've done it, sis." He murmured again. Then in one swift motion he put the revolver under his chin, pulled the trigger, and sent a .45-caliber projectile through his jaw and up into his brain, creating a fountain of brain matter that stainedmany a nearby leaf. His now lifeless corpse collapsed forward, splashing into the murky brook with a loud smack.