The coppery scent of blood baking on the hot cement mixed with the smell of oil from the stain beneath Benny’s head. The Arizona sun had been relentlessly beating down on the pavement long before Benny had been forced to hug it. His skin fried just like an egg from one those educational videos about not leaving your pets in cars. He swore he could smell his flesh cooking. His fear overcame the discomfort, even as it heightened all his senses. It was eerily quiet on the Canyondale campus, except for the occasional pop of gunfire in the distance.

People say hindsight is twenty-twenty. In Benny’s case, it was more like thirty-forty. Of course, it was possible that was the blood loss making his brain glitch. The weirdest shit always happened to Benny. In this instance, it was the most horrific shit, but there was that one time a custodian had tried cleaning the urinal while Benny was using it. Once, he’d been mistaken for one of the royal princes. The youngest, he thought, but he could barely understand the girl through her screaming and crying. He’d faked a British accent, signed some shit, and then he’d done what he always did—posted the story on his blog. The funniest part of the entire situation was that Benny was Korean, and the prince was a ginger, but if a person couldn’t laugh at themselves...

Today wasn’t that day. As he hid under the front end of a SWAT truck, bleeding on the pavement and holding the hand of a downed policeman, Benny went over the day’s events in his head. If he lived, this was definitely going on his blog. He tried searching for anything funny to share with his readers—a silver lining. By nature, he was a happy person. He loved making other people laugh. Thinking about anything at all was better than the alternative—like how this cop who’d saved him was about to die while Benny watched. The man’s light green eyes dimmed by the second.

“What’s your name?” Benny whispered. He had to know. He didn’t want to die with a stranger.

“Wyatt,” the man whispered back.

There it was—a silver lining. He’d been Wild West style saved by a cop named Wyatt. Even though it hurt like his insides were being ripped to shreds, Benny moved closer to the man. “I’m Benny.”

Wyatt smiled. It was faint, but Benny didn’t miss it. “Stay still, Benny. They’re coming back our way.”

At Wyatt’s warning, the terror sank its claws in once more. He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering. Wyatt’s eyes were the only thing keeping him sane. He wondered if he’d look back on this day and hate his nine-a.m. college professor for sending him outside into a hail of gunfire because that was the way his stupid brain worked. Benny’s mind always latched on to the ridiculous details, even when in danger of dying bloody, it seemed. He would still be sitting in class half-awake right now if Professor Thomalson didn’t have a thing for him. He should’ve confessed he was gay and let her down easy a long time ago, but she was eighty if she was a day, and he liked being teacher’s pet. She’d forgotten her bag in her car. That was it. The turning point in his day. She’d handed Benny her keys, given him directions to her car, and like that, he’d been free to walk the campus, getting credit for class without the bullshit work.

They’d locked the campus down the second her car had come into view. He’d looked down at his phone when the piercing alarm had come in. Seconds later, the world exploded. There had to be at least five shooters. All in full riot gear with automatic weapons. Wasn’t this high school shit? Who shot up a college campus? Yeah, he’d heard of the occasional random crazy dude with a handgun or knife, but fucking automated weapons. The world was insane.

He’d already been down, shot in the thigh, when the SWAT truck rolled up. Benny hadn’t seen it coming. All he’d seen was the gun pointed at him and his life flashing before his eyes. He should’ve gone for that threesome his ex David had offered. Sure, he would’ve hated himself afterward, but that was mostly true already anyway.

Gravel crunched nearby, pulling Benny from his scattered fucked-up thoughts. Wyatt’s gaze screamed for Benny to stay quiet. The footsteps slowed near Benny’s head. He couldn’t look. Hell, he couldn’t breathe. Benny was convinced his heartbeat and rapid breaths could be heard around the world. He considered covering his mouth to stifle the noise, but he was too scared. His body was on lockdown.

“Driver’s side door is locked.”

“Passenger side too.”

Fuck. There were two of them.

“Goddamn pigs. Search their pockets for the keys.”

Wyatt scrambled to push a set of keys Benny’s way before closing his eyes and falling still. Benny moved slow, closing his fingers around the set of keys. Black military style boots appeared at the front of the truck, pulling Wyatt away and flipping him over. Benny didn’t blink as he watched the man searching Wyatt’s pockets. He expected the guy would turn his head at any second and see him. Benny couldn’t decide who he feared for the most—himself or Wyatt. The dude moved to the next body and searched.

“Nothing. One of the other three who got away must’ve had the keys. Fuckers,” he spat, kicking the dead cop. Benny jumped as he shot the man again.

“Quit wasting ammo,” the other one called. Goddamn. He was still right there. Feet from Benny’s head. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off Wyatt, searching for any signs of life. Either the man was damn good at playing dead or he’d passed when the guy moved him. There was so much blood. No way could one person lose that much and live.

“Motherfuckers. I guess we’d better go hunt down the other three if we want this truck. If I’m dying here today, all these bastards are burning with me.”

Benny listened to the whole thing on the edge of hyperventilating. He didn’t want to burn today. Graduation was three weeks away. He didn’t have any family. What would happen to his body? Jesus, who would clear his browser history? The keys he held cut into his hand, dragging him back to reality. He wondered how much of the blood coating the pavement was his. Everything was getting hazy—like looking at the world through a dirty window. Of course, the fact that he’d been holding his breath, expecting to get caught and killed for the past five minutes didn’t help matters.

Two sets of boots moved away. Benny took one breath and then another. The moment the men disappeared from sight, Benny gingerly wormed his way out from beneath the truck. He moved slowly, because it hurt, and there was at least one more shooter out there. The other two lay dead between Wyatt and the other cop. When he didn’t see anyone, and no shots rang out, Benny hobbled over to Wyatt. He didn’t move when Benny touched him, but he had a pulse. Hobbling back to the truck, he quickly unlocked the doors and opened the back. Moving as fast as possible and with adrenaline on his side, Benny dragged Wyatt into the back. The moment he slammed the door closed, he knew he’d fucked up. That shit was loud as hell in the otherwise empty lot. The first black-clad figure appeared from around the corner. Only the truck separated him from death. The man raised his gun, and Benny dove behind the wheel. The bullets struck, making Benny’s heart stop before he realized the car was obviously made of sterner stuff. His hands shook as he shoved the keys in the ignition. Two men rushed the truck. The vehicle fired to life and Benny jerked it into gear and slammed his foot on the gas, clipping one of the men who wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way. He didn’t look back. Survival was all he cared about. At the edge of campus, he could see the barricade in the distance. Flashing lights blocked every exit.

The radio buzzed, snagging Benny’s attention. He snatched up the handset without a plan in place and hit the button. “This is Benjamin Lee. Please don’t shoot me. I’m already having a really shitty day.”

A deep rumble of laughter came from the back, bringing a wave of relief. Holy fuck. They might really live through this after all.