On his way to school Trevor's bus is attacked by a gunman. He survives but it drastically alters the landscape of his life. He is interrogated by the FBI. He returns to school befuddled. The emotion of the attack lingers. He sees the world differently. But then Trevor meets Becky. They spend time together. They get to know each other. And before the school-year ends they are thrust into a whirlwind of trouble that threatens their lives, and draws them close. A fascinating story of adventure and friendship. A story of grit and luck, with a young man's stubborn determination to survive. Trevor stood in their presence, trying to think. Steam rose from his shoulders, snow melted on his face, and his breath was clearly visible. "Listen. Nobody move," said Trevor, "he may not know we left the bus. It's our only chance." Suddenly they heard a voice: "You're dead!" The group of students looked up, simultaneously. The man's voice was deep. But they heard not what he said for it was a wraith-like voice- a hissing, whispering voice. They stood numb in shock. Before them the bus lay on its side at the edge of the forest, the engine still purring, the smoke still rising from the muffler through the snow. "Let's go," Trevor whispered. And with that they marched forward, all of them, through the deep dust of snow-stumbling and huffing, together, in silence. Then suddenly a tempest burst forth from the black dot of the man now kneeling in the snow. It was as if the earth opened up at that one spot; as if the fire and hatred of hell was released, without restraint, upon the bus as the man emptied his machine-gun into it. Tires exploded, sparks flew, the engine caught fire, and you could hear the scream and torture of metal as bullets slammed into the bus. The kids dove face down into the snow. Presently the back window exploded, where Trevor had been seated, and a storm of bullets ricocheted off the back bumper. The storm continued until, after much noise, the entire bus looked like a giant chunk of cheese with a thousand holes in it. Then suddenly it all ended. Frozen in fear, the kids remained submerged in the snow. Huddled together they heard the huffing of the man, now inching his way closer to the bus. As he neared the bus he pulled the pin of a grenade and lobbed it into the side window, the very window Trevor had smashed. Then he sped to the edge of the forest, and lunged behind a tree. There was a moment of silence. Then an enormous, thundering noise, ripped through the air and the glass windows above popped into a million pieces, abrupt like a hit Humvee, and littered the surrounding area. Tiny missiles of hot metal landed everywhere. All around them the kids heard the hissing of smoking metal now cooling in the snow. They were too scared to move. Time froze. Then slowly Trevor rose. His eyes, wide with fear, his hands trembling, his knees weak, his spirit wounded, he stood and scanned the area looking for the gunman. Before him he saw dark spots in the snow, everywhere, with thin threads of smoke slithering upward- a brood of snakes, as it were, all charmed simultaneously. Farther still he saw the bus, a twisted frame of metal, torn apart and smoldering. And, off in the distance, up the slope, he saw the man running up the slope towards the road, where they had come from. Trevor waited a long time. When it seemed all was safe, he left the group and walked to the bus where he stood alone in silence. One by one the kids joined him- first the young, blond girl with torn coat, then the others. They stood hand in hand, gazing at the death trap they had survived. One of the kids began thumbing a cellphone, then another, and yet another. "Are we at war now?" said the girl with the torn coat. Trevor placed his hand on her head, smiled, and walked away. Yes, he thought, this was war.