The Purge: School Time.

12

Lawrence was crouching down on the rooftop, looking out at the carnage down below.

The skylines out in the main city were burning. The small campus was too. He could hear explosions every now and then, gunshots almost all the time. His hand was sweaty, attempting to grip the submachine-gun he had picked up. It's metal barrel was resting on his lap. 

He had hid for the first few hours. When it was relatively quiet, he had stepped out of the room he had holed up in and ran to the roof, picking up the gear he had on the way.

It was quiet. Peaceful, almost.

The sun was setting.

He adjusted his seating, and a crack sounded as a bullet hole appeared on the air-conditioning unit. 

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The sniper hadn't found any targets for the past 10 minutes. It was relatively quiet. 

He swung the rifle around, scanning the windows. There. 

A boy on the roof. His head peeking out.

He smiled.

Bang.

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Lawrence got down on the floor. He was pinned behind the AC.

The shot surprised him. Crap. Someone was gonna go up there fast. The sniper missed, but he wouldn't again. His bag was next to him. Picking it up, he rummaged through it. A couple of shirts, a first-aid kit, some water, a couple of magazines he lifted off the bodies.

The gun.

Lying out in the open. If he was quick, he could pick it up.

But he had to confuse the sniper.

He looked around. There. A lone shingle.

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Movement. On reaction, he shot. The gun bucked.

And a quick dart of the figure. Now holding the gun. Lying behind the other AC unit.

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Lawrence smiled. He could just walk over to the roof exit. He didn't know what lay inside the corridors, but he had to take a chance.

He lifted the metal bar barricading the handle.

Gun out. Empty darkness.