What Happens In Mayrose: The Story Of Stacy Green

Chapter Eight

Indeed, they had found Caleb. They had found him lying on the ground, blood soaking his zombie costume, his eyelids halfway open, wailing in torment and misery. He was so beaten up, it was difficult to tell the real blood from the paint. He look groggy, drained, like he was on the verge of death. He couldn't have possibly been more zombie like.

Everyone was paralyzed in place, as police officers filed into the gym, appalled at what they were seeing.

"W-Woah," said one of the officers.

Suddenly, a familiar heavy grunt came from the crowd of officers, as he pushed his way through.

"Move it, would ya! Out of the way!," yelled Officer Grayson, finally getting through the hectic, panicking mob. He looked down at Caleb, who was gasping for every bit of air he could inhale. Officer Grayson furrowed his eyebrows, then looked back at half of the swarm. "Get this boy to the infirmary!" As they moved, he turned to the other half. "Whoever did this should still be within the perimeter! Put the building on lockdown. NO ONE GETS IN OR OUT! NOW?!"

The police officers all scattered in different directions. While some were running around, spitting into their walkie-talkies trying to get the building on lockdown, others were trying to shift all the confused and scared students out of the gym.

It took a lot of time, but soon enough, all the students had been moved to a single classroom - which was very stuffy and hot - and the officers were pulling them one by one, hoping to get some information.

Crouched in a corner, Spencer, Yara, Blake, and Lena sat in silence, not discussing how their plan had completely failed.

"Well," said Lena, her head in between her knees. "So much for a 'lead'. Can't really question a guy when he's clinging for his life. Now I can't even punch him without looking like a jerk."

Yara sighed. "Great. So we've reached a dead end." In her voice was a hint of disappointment, and worry that her father was not going to be pleased with her report on the evening. "Any grand ideas, Mr.Reporter?"

She turned to Spencer, who appeared to be jotting something down in his notebook: Tried questioning Caleb Monson. Found him intensely injured. Possible knowledge of our plot?

"Spence?," Blake said, waving his hand in his face. "You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah.," Spencer replied, getting back on track. "Okay. Let's think about it for a second. Someone had to know about what we were up to, and that's why they targeted Caleb. Did we somehow tick someone off of our plan?"

The three shook their heads.

"Alright, that doesn't help much." Spencer thought about it some more. "Well, let's move aside from that. Is there any other way to find out how or where Caleb got the photos from?"

An idea sparked in Blake's brain. "We could try his devices. Maybe his emails, or texts. Any platform where he could've been sent the photo!"

"Yeah, but it looks like the nurse dragged his phone out along with his bleeding body!," Yara hissed, a few students looking back at her puzzled.

"But what if he got the photo from a different device?," Lena insisted. "Like, maybe a computer or laptop?"

"If he did, that would make it harder for us," Blake said. "If it is on a computer or laptop, we'd have to be directly on it to find out who sent it."

Lena shrugged. "Maybe he has a computer at his house."

"And that helps how?," asked Spencer.

"We could just use that computer and go through his emails."