The Bullet List (The Saving Bailey Trilogy, #1) Read Online Free

that I am in an empty slaughterhouse with Miemah and her follower Cecil; they are standing about ten feet in front of me, with a pile of the dead baby pigs at their feet.
    “Here comes Bacon!” Cecil shouts and throws a pig at me.
    I try to run but my feet are stuck. I try to scream but my voice won’t work. The pig hits me and knocks me down, but only for a second. I pop back up and find a gun at my feet. Mom’s . I load it, cock it, and say, “You are about to be Bacon,” and shoot. The glass windows, interconnected circles like stencils vibrate from the gun-shot. The bullet strikes Miemah in the stomach, and she screams ‘Wake up!’ repeatedly at me as she falls to her knees.
    My eyes flutter open. Clad’s hand is on my back.
    “Don’t touch me,” is the first thing that comes out of my mouth.
    He retracts his hand. “You fell asleep, I was only trying to wake you up,” he says so softly that it is hard to make out.
    “I know,” I say, trying to lose the bad dream.
    “Where’s Bacon?” I ask.
    “In the trash. Why, did you want to say good bye?” Clad asks.
    “No, it’s better this way.”

Chapter 3

    After pushing my way through the crammed hallway, I enter the gym. The sickly sweet smell of cheap perfume scarcely covers the odor of sweat that pervades the girls’ locker room. I change into my gym shorts and tee shirt as quickly as I can to avoid coming into contact with Miemah and Cecil. My dream has not faded away; it has only taken a few steps back.
    I struggle to tie the laces of my sneakers; the dangling bandaging on my hands keeps getting in the way. The locker room doors are suddenly thrown open and Miemah with Cecil march in. My heart stops. I needed to be faster in order to dodge them; now I am sitting duck trying to tie my shoes with sweaty shaking hands.
    “Should we confront her now?” I hear Cecil ask Miemah.
    “No we are already late,” Miemah says. Then in a louder voice, “We will deal with the little trash-talking whore later.”
    I dumbly look around to see if they might be talking about somebody else.
    “Gross, she’s looking at me!” Cecil scoffs.
    Miemah is too busy with primping her hair to take notice of the statement. I thank my lucky stars for that one, and slink past them.
    The boys have all made it out of their locker room already and are leaning against the wall, looking bored. Mrs. Stewart, the gym teacher, is tapping her pen against her clipboard, running out of patience with Miemah and Cecil, who are still in the locker room prepping.
    “Bailey, can you go get them?” she asks, pointing her pen at me.
    “What me? Why me? I can’t,” I stammer. Fear pumps through my veins.
    “Are you giving me an attitude?” Mrs. Stewart asks me.
    “N-no,” I stutter.
    “They don’t like me,” I say.
    She makes a whistling noise with her lips, and rocks on her heels before finally saying, “Okay, Nessa you go get them.” A girl with curly blonde hair and bright green eyes hops forward and skips off to the lockers; she is also a minion of Miemah’s. She returns with Miemah and Cecil, their arms locked in an alliance. Mrs. Stewart gives them a nasty look, but only for a moment. She must be frightened of them too .
    “We’re going to be running the mile today,” she informs us.
    The boys and girls moan in protest. I would normally be thrilled to run the mile, but today it is a sort of curse with my feet being sliced up as they are.
    “Get to it,” Mrs. Stewart says, and claps her hands for motivation.
    We lazily step out of the gym door and into the fresh air. A rubber quarter-mile track encircles a spongy football field of grass. We line up on the track, and Mrs. Stewart starts her stopwatch. “Go now,” she says.
    I break into a run and immediately take the lead. The wind blowing through my long jet-black hair is rejuvenating, but it can’t make up for the excruciating pain in my feet. I halt as it becomes insufferable. Mrs. Stewart makes her way over to