Just as Travis was about to pull the trigger, Chase closed the distance in a flash. He stretched out his hands and grasped the gun. He twisted his body, trying to wrench the gun out of his hands.
He used his fist and began to slam Travis' wrist to release it. Travis squeezed the trigger, but Chase pushed the gun out of his direction just in the nick of time. The bullets tore into the locker with force.
Students nearby in the classroom screamed instinctively at the gunshots. Meanwhile, Travis drove a fist into Chase's gut and then kicked him in the gut. Chase grunted in pain, stumbling backwards.
Travis aimed the gun at him and squeezed the trigger, but Chase ducked in the nick of time. The bullets tore past his head and embedded in the wall. Chase performed a liver punch, doubling Travis over. In a flash, Chase's fist connected with his jaw, sending him crashing, but he still held the gun.
Dazed, Travis instinctively shot at him, but Chase had zipped out of the way and dived down on him to pull the gun away.
"Snap out of this!" He screamed. "This is not you, Travis."
Travis kicked out, sending Chase backwards. He aimed but Chase moved out of the way. Instinct took over. Chase lunged for the gun again, determined to stop him. His hands grabbed the weapon again. The two collided with a force that rattled the lockers lining the hall. The gun jerked between them, their arms straining, muscles burning as they fought for control.
"Let fucking go!" Travis snarled, his voice low and sharp.
Chase's fingers locked around the weapon, his knuckles white with strain. Travis's grip was iron, his face twisted with fury, and the two of them slammed against the lockers with a metallic crash that echoed down the hallway. The gun jerked wildly between them, each boy fighting with every ounce of strength they had.
Chase's breath came in ragged bursts, sweat dripping down his temple. His mind screamed at him to hold on, to not let go, because letting go meant disaster. He shoved forward, trying to pin Travis's arm against the wall, but Travis twisted, forcing Chase sideways. Their shoes squealed against the polished floor as they grappled, bodies locked in a desperate tug-of-war.
The weapon rose between them, arms straining upward. Chase's heart lurched as the barrel tilted toward the ceiling. He tried to force it down, but Travis shoved back with sudden strength.
BANG!
The gun discharged, the explosion deafening in the narrow corridor. A blinding flash lit the ceiling tiles, and plaster dust rained down on them. The sound reverberated through the halls, a thunderclap that seemed to shake the entire building to its core. Chase flinched, his ears ringing, but he didn't let go.
For a heartbeat, both froze — stunned by the shot. Then the struggle surged back to life, fiercer than before. Chase's muscles burned, his arms trembling, but adrenaline kept him locked in place. He shoved his shoulder into Travis's chest, trying to knock him off balance.
"Stop!" Chase gasped, his voice hoarse. "You don't have to do this!"
Travis's eyes blazed, cold and unyielding. He gritted his teeth, pulling harder, trying to wrench the gun free. The weapon scraped against the lockers as they twisted, the metal shrieking in protest.
Chase's mind raced. If I can twist it… If I can just get it away from him. He shifted his grip, forcing the barrel sideways, away from both of them. Travis snarled, shoving back, their bodies colliding again and again in the narrow hallway.
The ceiling above bore a fresh scar, smoke curling faintly from the shattered tile. The shot had been a warning, a reminder of how close they were to disaster. Chase's pulse thundered in his ears, but he refused to let go. He couldn't. Not now.
Every second stretched into eternity — the struggle, the ringing in his ears, the weight of the gun between them. Chase's arms ached, his lungs burned, but he held on, driven by something stronger than fear: the desperate need to stop Travis, to end this before anyone else got hurt.