They still hesitated. Brianna Matthews, who had the locker next to Carrie’s, finally spoke up.

“They said they would do stuff to us if we ran,” she said in a hollow, whispery voice.

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Well, they will definitely do stuff to you if stay here, so move your ass.”

Brianna and the others got up — so damn slowly — and finally, finally, began hustling out of the back of the van.

“Thank you, Carrie,” Brianna said, teary-eyed. “Thank you.”

Carrie resisted the urge to bellow “I told you so” at the top of her lungs. “Where are the others?” she said.

Brianna pointed at the motel buildings. “I think they’re in there,” she said.

“Great. Run,” Carrie said. She headed in the opposite direction, scooped up the shotgun from the ground, and carefully but quickly moved toward the motel.

She hid at the corner of the nearest building, holding the shotgun like her father had taught her, wondering if she’d be able to use it.

All this over candy bars, she thought.

It had all started innocently enough. A guy named Adam Goodson came to town, offering cash and prizes and part-time work to everyone at the high school, selling candy bars door-to-door. He drove a bright-red Porsche 914, wore his thick, blond hair in a ponytail, and he smiled a lot. The rich kids, like Danny, and the jocks and popular kids, like Buzz, didn’t bother to join up.

But Wade Wellman and the Warriors did.

They were always up for any scam. They got their boxes of candy and their T-shirts that said SALES FORCE in neon lettering. They bullied and they threatened. They stood over the youngest and smallest kids and shook them down. They went to the homes of senior citizens and loomed on their front steps until the old people bought something.

They weren’t breaking the law, Carrie noticed. They were very careful.

They began flashing the cash they’d made around school. They showed off their new toys, bonuses from Goodson: Walkmans, CDs, Game Boys, fresh new Nikes. Carrie thought of a brochure her dad had brought home from a conference about pedophile grooming behaviors.

But it was hard to argue with success. More and more people joined in. Within a couple of weeks, it was like half the school was involved.

Carrie wasn’t surprised Wade and the others were acting like shitheads; that’s what they did. What surprised her was how fast other people went along with it.

Case in point: one day, after school, Wade went into the parking lot and began asking kids to sign up while they were waiting for the bus. They worked their way down the line until they got to Ryan Ortega, a sophomore who’d made the junior varsity football team. Ryan wasn’t a dork or a geek; he was mildly popular, a decent athlete, got pretty good grades. He was normal.