Pop. Pop. Pop.
Across the table from Riley, Eric slumped over. Confused, Riley stared at the growing puddle of red oozing out from under Eric. The same kind of puddle now surrounding Gabe on the floor.
After that everything happened in slow motion.
All around him kids started running and screaming as the pops became more frequent. His classmates fell like they were in a video game.
Like they were being shot.
But this wasn’t a video game. These were his friends, his classmates, his teachers. This carnage was real, so real his mind rejected it. Riley turned and raised his eyes to meet the cold, hard eyes of the shooter only a few feet from him.
Jacob, a former wide receiver on the varsity team, held a rifle in one hand, a gun in the other. Riley didn’t know anything about guns, but these guns were big suckers. Next to Jacob stood Ely, Jacob’s best friend, similarly armed. Both guys had been kicked off the varsity football team earlier in the week for violating the athletic code by drinking, which meant no playoffs for them.
Jacob levelled the gun at Riley’s forehead.
Riley braced himself, surprised he hadn’t wet his pants, pretty sure his short life would end in the next second or two. Instead Jacob swung the rifle around to fire several rounds at the varsity players running for the door and a couple girls huddled on the floor. One of the girls was Gina. Riley dived for her, covering her with his body.
Sharp, white hot pain burned through the muscles in his arm. He lay atop Gina and her friend, whispering to them not to move, to play dead.
And wondered if he wasn’t dying himself.
Cooper skated around the ice, trying to relax. He noticed Mina talking to Coach and then Coach gestured to him. Cooper skated over to where they stood.
“What’s up?” He looked from one to the other.
Mina patted his arm and scurried down the hall, as if she couldn’t wait to get away from him. Cooper stared after her, confused and slightly alarmed. When he swung his gaze back to Coach, Gorst was staring at the ice and wringing his hands.
“What’s going on?”
“Coop, doesn’t your nephew go to Yesler High School?”
That gnawing feeling gnawed a hole right through his stomach. “Yeah?”
Gorst’s face had turned pale. “There’s an—uh—uh—incident at Yesler.”
“A what?” Cooper broke out into his second cold sweat of the day. Behind Gorst stood Ethan, looking equally nervous and pale. Cooper looked from Ethan to Coach. “What kind of incident?” Only he knew, deep inside he knew, it was the worst kind of incident.
Ethan shouldered his way past Coach, who took up most of the narrow passageway that ran from the ice to the lockers. “Cooper. Calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down? What the fuck is going on?” Cooper grabbed both of Ethan’s arms, squeezing so tightly he most likely left bruises, but he didn’t give a shit.
“Early reports are that there’s a shooter in the building,” Ethan said with a false calm.
Cooper heard him as if he were far away. He’d fallen into a dark pond and struggled to swim to the top with an anchor wrapped around his ankles, and his lungs screaming for oxygen.
“Cooper?” Ethan pulled free of Cooper’s grip and shook him.
Cooper still couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t function. He shouldn’t have let Riley go to school today, should’ve trusted his instincts.
“Mina just heard it on the news. It’s an on-going situation.” Coach’s words penetrated the foggy haze and prodded Cooper into action. He had to do something, had to save Riley, had to tell him that he mattered before it was too late.
“Fuck.” Cooper raced for the locker room as fast as a guy on skates could race. He didn’t bother to change, but he couldn’t drive a car with skates. He fumbled with the laces and finally managed to loosen them enough to yank off his skates, just as his phone erupted with text messages.
He grabbed the phone and scanned the messages. One was from the school informing him there was an incident and to stay away from the school but directing parents to a nearby church.
Fuck that.
Fear slammed through him. Fear something might have happened to Riley. Fear that he’d never see the kid’s scowl again when he thought Cooper was being a dork. Fear that he’d never watch him play another high school football game. Fear that he’d never get to tell him that he was proud of him, and he loved him.
Yeah, he loved his nephew.
As he ran to his car, ignoring the concerned faces of teammates and staff, he texted three simple words to Izzy:
I need you.
Followed by the three most important words in the English language:
I love you.
Izzy heard the news when she came out of the shower that morning. It was everywhere. Social media was blowing up, and all the news stations carried the incident live and in all its horror.
Riley went to that school.
She picked up her phone to call Cooper and saw the texts. He needed her. She texted him back. No response. She tried calling him, the phone went straight to voicemail.
She told her sisters goodbye and ran to her car, promising to call as soon as she found out something.
Izzy knew Cooper. As unwise as it was, he’d go straight to the school, not to the nearby staging area for parents. At the least he’d get in the way, and the worst, he’d storm the building himself.
She couldn’t lose him and Riley, too.
Izzy drove like a crazy person to the school, unable to reach Cooper. Ethan called her, concerned for Cooper and Riley, but visibly relieved when he heard Izzy was en route.
“If anyone can calm him, you can,” he’d said.
Izzy pulled out her iPhone and fired up “Find My Friends.”
Most of the routes were blocked off, so she parked and followed her phone until she spotted Cooper’s vehicle parked haphazardly on a side street blocks from the school. He’d done exactly what he shouldn’t have done—gone barging into an active crime scene.