The Finalists by David Bell

Author:David Bell [Bell, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-07-05T00:00:00+00:00

36

THE ROOM FILLS.

I’m surrounded by feet and legs as I still kneel on the floor.

The captain is down next to me, and he takes over. Mercifully. Thankfully.

He sticks his fingers into Nicholas’s mouth and works them around. He lifts his torso up and slaps him on the back a few times, trying to make sure his airway is clear.

Then the captain eases Nicholas back to the floor and begins chest compressions. Just as he did with Milo a few hours ago.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Sydney asks.

No one answers, but she speaks for all of us.

The captain continues with his work, pressing against Nicholas’s chest over and over. But his eyes have rolled back in his head, the color draining from his face like a tide receding. His nostrils are covered with blood, a smear across his cheeks. His body moves with each compression, but that’s it. He’s stopped convulsing. He’s limp. Lifeless. The tiny speck of tissue remains on his forehead like a surrender flag.

Empty.

I stand up, my knees creaking. The students are bunched tight, all staring down. Only the captain remains on the floor. He keeps pushing and pushing.

“Come on, damn it. Come on. Not this bullshit again. Not this.”

“Captain?” I say.

“No, sir. Not another one. Not on my watch.”

I reach down, place my hand on his arm. I apply gentle pressure. “It’s okay. You tried. You really tried.”

“Sir . . .” He doesn’t say anything else. He leans back, putting his weight on his heels. He’s sweating again. His forehead and cheeks are soaked. He’s breathing hard. “Sir, I tried. . . .”

“I know you did. I know.”

The captain exhales long and loud. It’s the only sound in the room before someone sniffles.

“What happened to him?” Natalia says. “It’s not the same thing, is it? He’s not really foaming and seizing the way Milo was.”

No one else says anything. The room is strangely quiet. Uncomfortably so.

“Captain, what do you think? Was he poisoned?” I ask.

“It could be, sir. He was seizing some. But the blood . . . not much foaming. Different people can have different reactions depending on the amount ingested.”

“Holy shit,” Sydney says. “Was it the food?”

“He didn’t eat,” I say. “I know that. He went upstairs, remember? And when he came down, I tried to get him to eat something because he looked weak, but he wouldn’t.”

“What else happened in here?” Duffy asks. “You came in here with him alone.”

All eyes are on me. “We came in here and looked at the layout of the room. I suggested we move the chairs so we could do the interviews. He seemed to be okay with it, so I started pushing the chairs around. Like they are right there.” I point. “I talked while I did it. I told Nicholas—we had talked upstairs in the bedroom about another donation he’s making to the school, something I’ve been working on for a while. He finally agreed to do it. Before the toast to Milo.”

“You were alone with him upstairs and then down here?” Duffy asks.

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