Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Entangled Tales - 15 - Justin & Jeremy
Justin woke but did not move. He lay still on his bed trying to recapture the thought that was at the back of his mind - a dream perhaps. Gradually he became aware of the excited voice of the DJ on the radio beside him. He leant over and turned up the volume.
"This is West FM, the Voice of the Coast - your local radio. Repeating that message from the Westpoint Police. There is an armed offender's situation currently taking place at the Westpoint High School. Several people have been shot and at least one person has died. Police have cordoned off the area for one block in all directions from the High School.
The following streets are now closed to all traffic, including pedestrians. Derby Street from Bright to Paddington streets, Cobham Street from Romney Street to a point north of Westpoint North School on Williamson Road. Bright, Paddington and Cobham streets are closed between Romney and Derby streets.
The closed area includes Pattinson Park Raceway, Westpoint High School, and Westport North School.
This is now a designated Police Emergency area and no unauthorised persons are to enter the emergency area. All persons within this area are advised to leave immediately, preferably by a route which is not visible from the High School.
The gunman and a group of hostages are currently located in the Westpoint High School library building. Police and Civil Defence personnel have the situation under control and there is an Armed Offenders Squad now on their way from Brownsville. Westpoint Police thank the public for their co-operation. End of message.
So, folks, we have an armed offenders emergency right here in Westpoint High School. Very exciting, yes, but also very dangerous. At least one person has already died and there may well be others. So stay well away from the High School. Police are in control of the situation and no sightseers are being allowed anywhere near the school.
We understand that the gunman is a youth - a student at Westpoint High, but that is unconfirmed as yet. Stay tuned to West FM and we will bring you any further news and updates on the situation, on your local radio - West FM, the Voice of the Coast."
Music came on again and Justin turned the noisy radio down. He lay back, waiting for more news, and thinking. A hostage situation, like something you hear of happening overseas, and it was right here in little Westpoint! And, someone's dead, and others have been wounded, in his school. Were they anyone he knew? What if Claire, or any of them, was even now a hostage - a prisoner with a loaded gun pointed at them? What if one of them was the 'crazed gunman'? The radio said it was a youth, so who could it be? Why would anyone do such a thing? He couldn't see Lucas or Carl, or any of them, running around with a gun. So who would?
Then it struck him with absolute certainty - Jeremy Carver! Quiet, shy and abused Jeremy Carver could be the one - he could snap if he was pushed far enough. Those creeps would be looking for revenge for last Thursday's humiliation. Justin was not there to face them or to protect Jeremy again - so he would be a target for them to take it out on. Jeremy. It must be him with the gun. The Carvers lived just over the road from the school and they'd have lots of guns. Jeremy! And in so much trouble now.
Who would know? The public bar of the Adelphi was always a good source for the local gossip. Bob Reynolds always knew anything that happened around the town. So he pulled the telephone over on to the bed and rang the number for the bar.
His grandfather answered the phone, but, while he was delighted to speak to Justin, he hadn't heard any of the names involved in the crisis at the school.
Justin, disappointed, hung up. Then he thought - the radio! Someone there must know although they weren't saying it over the air. They said that the gunman was a student at the school. So he dialed the number for West FM - he knew it already as he'd heard it broadcast a hundred times.
"Hello, West FM. Who's speaking please?"
"Hello - ah, this is Justin Reynolds speaking."
"Justin Reynolds? Is this the Justin Reynolds from the Adelphi Hotel?"
"Yes, that is right - that is me - I, umm..."
"Great to hear from you, Justin. We'd heard that you were really sick - dying even."
"Yes. I was - I am, I think. Look, I just..."
"And you're the hero of the coal truck and Tom Craddock's grandaughter.
And the so-called mouse who put the school's rugby team out of action.
Have you got a comment on the situation at the school? Can I put you on air?"
"No! Please, I have nothing to say. I just wanted to ask you a question."
"Fire away, Justin. Anything for Westpoint's boy hero."
"I am not a hero. I was thinking about the gunman at the school. I helped a boy who was being beaten up by a group of bullies, and now I have not been there for the last few days. I am afraid that I might be responsible for what is happening there now. You said that the gunman was a student. Can you tell me his name? And who has been shot?"
"Well . . Okay, Justin, just for you. This is strictly off the record you understand. We haven't been told officially, but I understand that the boy who was killed was Brad Stephens."
"Oh no."
"What? Was he a friend of yours?"
"No, definitely not. More like an enemy really. He was the leader of the group of thugs that I beat up."
"I see. Maybe you do have a connection to today's drama then. I don't know who else was shot, but one was a teacher."
"And the gunman. What is his name?"
"The gunman is a Carver kid, no surprises there. His name, I think, was Jerry, Jeremy? Something like that."
"Jeremy Carver. Jeremy was the boy that the bullies were beating up last Thursday."
"That'll be him then. They were beating on this kid this morning and he ran away and came back with a gun."
"That is what I was afraid of. Thank you, Robbie, you've been a big help."
"Not a problem, Justin. But where are you now?"
"I am at home, in my sickbed, where I have been since last Thursday."
"In the Adelphi, eh? Well you stay there, boy. You're well out of the drama down at the school. Stay in bed and stay safe. They're not letting anyone near the school anyway. It will all be over soon - the Armed Offender's Squad will take him out when they arrive."
"Thank you, Robbie. I will do what I must do. Goodbye."
"Goodbye Justin, and anytime you want to make a statement, let me know."
He lay back on his bed trying to decide what he should do, when the DJ on the radio made up his mind for him. - "This is Robbie Keenan on West FM. I can't tell you the details, folks, but I've just had a call off air, and I have a feeling that something's going to happen soon at the school. I may be wrong, but I just have this feeling. Remember you heard it here first. Keep listening for news as it happens - on West FM, the Voice of the Coast."
Justin knew what he had to do. He climbed out of bed, pulled on his old gray sweatshirt, took the long crutches out of the wardrobe, and headed out to go to the school. He quietly made his way downstairs, up the hallway, and out of the front door of the hotel. He sighed in relief that no-one had seen him going, then swung on his crutches, across the main street, along to the corner, and away at speed. Five blocks up Brigham Street, left into Derby Street and four blocks down towards the school.
As he swung along, his head ached, his foot hurt, and his arms were really sore. He was afraid and shed his bloody tears, chanting to himself as he ran. "I do not want to die. I do not want to die." Only his stubborn determination kept him going towards the last place that he really wanted to be.
At Paddington Street, one block away from the school, the road was closed. ‘Police Emergency' tape was strung across the street and footpaths, and a line of Civil Defence personnel - Council workers, firemen, and volunteers, was keeping the crowd of sightseers from getting any closer to the school.
He looked around for a way past, then crossed the street and went in through the back door of the hospital, down the long corridors of the hospital, out the front door, across the small lawns and gardens and out on to Williamson Road opposite the back of the school library. He stood at the side of the road, hanging limply on his crutches, gasping for breath, shaking his head to clear the blood from his eyes, and trying to decide what to do next. A uniformed policeman came over to him - running but trying to stay low at the same time.
"Justin Reynolds! What the hell are you doing here? You should be in bed. Get back through there to the hospital, Boy."
"No, Mr.Jamieson. I can not. I have to go over there to the library. Let me past."
"Justin, you can't do anything there - go home. I'm not going to let you through."
He made a grab for the boy, but Justin stepped back and lashed out with a crutch. He hit Paul Jamieson on the head, knocking him sideways. "Get out of my way!" he snarled as he stumbled forwards across the road.
"Jeremy! Jeremy Carver!" he shouted as he went. "Jeremy speak to me. It is me, Justin Reynolds."
Paul Jamieson got to his feet, but froze as the back door of the library opened and Jeremy Carver appeared. He stood side-on in the doorway at the top of the ramp. Rifle in hand, he was positioned so that he could watch his hostages inside the library as well as the solitary figure outside.
A shot rang out from over the road, the bullet narrowly missed Jeremy and slammed into the doorframe beside him. Justin turned in time to see the would-be hero hit the ground clutching his arm as Jeremy coolly shot him down. Screams came from inside the library.
"Stop it!" Justin screamed. "Stop it you fucking idiots, or I'll do the lot of you!"
Jeremy looked along the barrel of his rifle. "I thought you were dying, Reynolds. What are you doing here? Go home - I've got no arguments with you."
"Jeremy, I am not going anywhere. I came here for you. We are on the same side, remember?"
"We are not. No-one's on my side. Go away Justin."
"Jeremy, we can fix this. Just put down the gun."
He took a step up the ramp. Jeremy lifted the gun and aimed at him. "No! There is no 'we'. There is just me and my rifle."
"Jeremy, please! Give me the gun. We can fix this."
"It's too late now - it's too late. Walk away while you can. I don't want to, but I will shoot you, Reynolds. I will. You're not taking the gun. I shot Billy and I'll shoot you too. This is the end."
"It is not the end - you have your whole life ..." He took another step forward.
"I hate my fucking life!" Jeremy screamed, his enraged face covered in tears. He lifted the gun a little to one side and pulled the trigger.
Justin staggered, dropped a crutch, and looked down at the blood gushing where the bullet had ripped through his upper arm. "I do not want to die, Jeremy. You do not want to die either. They'll shoot you like a dog. Give me the gun, Jeremy." He took another step forward on his one crutch.
"I don't care! I don't fucking care! I told you - I told you I'll shoot you. Walk away while you can or I'll do it again. I'm warning you Justin."
"Give me the gun, Jeremy. I am not walking away from this."
The rifle fired again. The bullet slammed into the thigh of his left leg, Justin spun around and fell to the ground. Jeremy stood crying loudly, "I warned you - you made me. You made me do it!"
Justin's left hand reached out and grabbed the pipes of the handrail on the ramp. He slowly, painfully, hauled himself to his feet and stood crying, gasping. "Give me the gun, Jeremy Carver. Give me that fucking gun!" He carefully attempted another step up the ramp.
Again he fired. The bullet hit Justin to the right side of his stomach, and he spun around, hitting the ground again.
Jeremy scanned the rifle along the white faces in the distance, and they all dropped down quickly. He looked in at the cowering group of hostages inside the library, then stared in disbelief as Justin, once again, slowly hauled himself to his feet.
He stood upright, face contorted in pain, let go of the handrail and, shaking, held out his hand. "Jeremy," he pleaded. He lurched forward, overbalanced and began to fall forward.
"Justin, No!" Jeremy flung the gun away and rushed to catch him. He flung his arms around Justin and sobbed as he held him up. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Justin, I'm so sorry."
Justin raised his bloody tear stained face and grinned at him. "It's okay, Jeremy. It's all right. It's all right now."
Several people rushed over - Paul Jamieson pulled Justin's limp form away from Jeremy as two others grabbed him. "Don't hurt him," Justin sobbed. "Please don't hurt him. He's just a kid - it could have been me. He's just a kid. Don't.." And he blacked out.
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