4
As the armed policemen raced across the playground to the main school building, McBride was walking down the corridor towards the school’s gymnasium. In the classroom behind him was another dead girl, shot at point blank range while the rest of the pupils screamed in terror. The double doors leading to the gym were panelled with glass and McBride could see a balding teacher in a dark blue tracksuit peering at him, his hands shading his eyes.
McBride raised his shotgun and the teacher turned and ran away from the doors. McBride stopped, took a long, deep breath, exhaled slowly, and pushed the doors open. Several of the children screamed but most of them just stared at him open-mouthed. The teacher pushed his way through the children to a fire exit. He pushed the metal bar that opened the door and shouted for the pupils to get out.
McBride swept his shotgun from side to side, then settled on a dark-haired boy with girlish features who was standing with his hands over his eyes, peering through his splayed fingers. McBride stepped forward with his left leg, raised the butt to his shoulder, braced himself for the recoil and pulled the trigger. The boy’s white T-shirt burst into a vivid crimson and he fell backwards, his hands still over his face.