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Create Posts connected to the themes we brainstorm as a class. Color Code your quote entries to match the possible theme.

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Create Posts connected to the themes we brainstorm as a class. Color Code your quote entries to match the possible theme.

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Crisis can bring out the best and the worst in people

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Crisis can bring out the best and the worst in people

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People will protect those they care about

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People will protect those they care about

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"A gunshot goes off, and suddenly his knees give out, and he goes down, and there's blood on his face-and there's blood on Garretts face too, but Garrett isn't dead."

"I slap her. I slap her hard. It makes here lose her focus, and I'm able to slip the cup from her hand."

"Then I grip the trigger, feeling the guns weight. But I hesitate …and hesitate some more …and then Garrett says, in the faintest of whispers: "Do it, Alyssa"

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"Alyssa bursts out of the trailer, leaping over the flames that are about to engulf it. She's holding something. What is that? Is that a cup? She holds it like its something precious. And it is. I could take it from her. I could catch up with her and take it. And drink it... But I wont. Because I know that waters not for her."

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“why do you even care what i do” hali blurts out “you got your water why dont you just leave me alone” and sydney finally spills true motive “he said hell give me another bottle if i bring him someone, someone like you…”

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“‘Kelton!’

‘Just a… just a…’

I make my way back to him, halving the distance between me and the fire.

‘Just a… just a…sex.’

It’s so hot here, it feels as if my clothes will ignite. It feels like my dry skin will spontaneously combust.

‘Little rest…,’ says Kelton. ‘Just a… just a…’

‘No!’ I yell. The mention of the word ‘rest’ makes my knees want to fold. It sounds so, so good. The roar of the waves. Rest. Toes in the cool cool sand. ‘No!’

I grab Kelton and practically hurl him over the stump”

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"He doesn't look at me. He doesn't want to see the gun or me. So I press the muzzle against that space between his ear and his eye, where the hair is short and soft. 'Do it. Please ... '"

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"You've got to do something you've never done, to have something you've never had, Hali thinks. Or something you may never have again. "I'll be back." she tells her mother. "I promise." Then she heads toward the little red Volkswagen bus, where the man with the ponytail opens the door for her. Like a gentleman."

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"'I'm not letting you stay here!' I scream at him. 'Which means if you don't get your ass up that hill, I die, too. Is that what you want?"

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“He listens but can’t hear her breathe, so he put his head to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. it’s there. Weak. Strained… He wonders what he’ll do when he puts his head to her chest and hears nothing.”

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"We finally, finally reach the crest of the hill. I find it hard to believe I'm still alive. I don't feel it. I feel like i died a hundred yards downhill. and now my spirit is trapped here, doomed to haunt this place, reliving the climb, and the thirst, and the flames for all eternity."

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“Herb was never one to believe in miracles…or for that matter, anything else he had lost in life. But when he sees that pill bottle- and the label reading “Keflex” - he has to reevaluate his whole concept of reality.”

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“the door swings wide, a figure moves foward, dad screams and pulls the trigger, the world exploded with a shotgun pass, the intruder is blown back against the door frame, blood splatters everywhere, on me, one eye stings from it, the intruder bounces off the door frame, and in that door, theres a key in the lock, a single solitary key…”

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“The heat teases my cheeks. It has the power to singe, to sear, to incinerate, but it holds back. Now it just teases. Tickles. It plays with me.

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"A gunshot goes off, and suddenly his knees give out, and he goes down, and there's blood on his face-and there's blood on Garrett's face too, but Garrett isn't dead. And I realize that the blood on Garrett's face, dripping from his mouth, is from the bite he gave the skinhead. But the inked asshole's blood is his own. He's on the ground with a bullet hole in his forehead just above his left eye. He shudders once, then goes limp. And Kelton stands ten yards away, arm extended, his gun at the end of it."

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"we reached the top of the ridge and look down on the campsite to see the campfire, without anyone to watch it, has gotten out of control."

" MY HANDS MY HANDS! How stupid could I be! My hands. And I still want to push my arms through the flames to that cooler that burns their in the middle of hell."

" the fire chases up the hill. Every time I look back, no matter how far we have climbed the fire is no further away. But its no closer to us either. Its matching our pace."

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"A gunshot goes off, and suddenly his knees give out, and he goes down, there's blood on his face-and there's blood on Garretts face too, but Garrett isn't dead, And I realize that the blood on Garrett's face, dripping from his mouth, is from the bite he gave the skinhead."

"I find myself staring directly into the void. I am barreling through white flame and absolute darkness, the nexus between life and death. The void beginning to take my body, and I know exactly what comes next. It wants my soul. But it won't get it without a fight, I don't slow down. I don't accept the pain. I crash through the burning void toward the waters of heaven."

"He's on the ground with a bullet hole in his forehead just above his left eye. He shudders once, then goes limp. And Kelton stands ten yards away, arm extended, his gun at the end of it."

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"Didn't I share my water with you at practice last week?... Maybe you could return the favor and share a few bottles with me."

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"My father loads the weapons and takes off any safeties. "Richard, what are you doing?" Mom says, horrified. It's one thing to see the weapons laid out. It's another thing to see them being loaded. "Protecting my family." The pounding on the back door is more frantic than ever."

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“‘Mess her up, Dalton,’ says one of the other boys.

‘Hey—maybe she’s got water, too!’ says the third.

The blond kid—Dalton—tried to wrench the keys from my hand, but I won’t let go of them. I refuse to allow this sorry excuse for a human being have them.”

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"The door swings wide. A figure moves forward. Dad screams and pulls the trigger. The world explodes with a shotgun blast. The intruder is blown back against the door frame. Blood splatters everywhere. On me. one eye stings from it. The intruder bounces off the door frame. He hits the kitchen floor, face down, in front of the open door. And in that door there's a key in the lock. A single, solitary key. Dad catches his breath, still in shock from having pulled the trigger. But then mom steps forward, in some kind of trance. Then dad drops the gun and falls to his knees. And now I finally start piecing it all together as i realize the body lying face down on the ground isn't a murderous thirst- crazed marauder. It's my brother Brady.

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“ But the inked a**hole’s blood is his own. He’s on the ground with a bullet hole in his forehead just above his left eye. He shudders once, then goes limp.

And Kelton stands ten yards away, arm extended, his gun at the end of it.

The other man freezes up, shocked. ‘Jesus H Chr—‘

But he never completes the invocation of his lord and savior, because Kelton shifts his arm, fires again, and the bullet hits the skinhead in the space just beneath his nose.”