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When the school’s director called me this morning after being apprised about rumblings of an impending attack, I mounted up, ready to slay whatever assholes decided today was the day to cause carnage.
So far, I haven’t seen any dead bodies. No children, no teachers. But bullet holes litter the walls, floors, and lockers. It was hysteria they were seeking, and from the stark look on the faces I’ve come across, they succeeded.
When I hear a voice yelling that children are coming out, I know whoever this is, has her. The girl with the sunshine hair and panic in her eyes.
A small group of children come running down the hall as I’m rounding a corner, and in the next second, I see a boy, maybe sixteen, with his arm around my sunshine’s neck before they disappear back into the classroom.
“Mate!” I call. “I’m coming in.” There’s no sound, nobody telling me to back off, so when I enter the classroom, finding two dead bodies on the ground with guns in their hands, I’m surprised to see this boy still holding the lovely teacher hostage.
“She’s just a teacher, mate. Not sure this is a good idea here.” Staring at the beauty trapped in the petrified teenager’s arms, I can tell she’s on the verge of tears but is trying to remain strong as I talk the boy down.
“He doesn’t have a weapon.” Her voice shakes as she chokes out the words.
“I can see that.” He’s also twice her size. It wouldn’t take much for him to snap her delicate neck should he choose to.
“What’s your name, pet?” Maybe if the kid learns more about her, he’ll let her go, and I won’t have to use the Berretta that’s in my hand, now resting against my thigh.
“Magnolia. Magnolia Taylor. I’m only twenty-three. I was born and raised in Chester, Arizona. It’s a small town. I came here because–” Tears do drop this time. “I came here because the school I was supposed to start working at…there was an incident. Someone died.” I’m curious about that. About her.
Her pleading eyes never leave mine; they’re speaking to me. And suddenly, I’m curiously aware of her as a woman. An extremely attractive one that I want to have for myself. “Did you hear Magnolia, mate? She hasn’t had a chance to live yet. Whatever has happened to you to bring you to this moment, it can be undone. I can help you.”
“Please, I’m only a teacher, a guidance counselor.” Her eyes continue to well up as she struggles to remain still in the boy’s restrictive hold.
“You need to loosen your grasp. Her life outweighs yours right now, son.” I notice his demeanor shifting, and when I look into his eyes, I recognize it.
That look.
I’ve seen it too many times not to understand its meaning.
“I’m not your son!” Her gasp as her captor cuts off her airway and the way she fights to inhale forces me to raise the gun.
He’s ready to die, and he’s going to force me to do it. “Let her go. Just let Magnolia go.” I have about ten seconds before it’s too late for her.
Her eyes are already growing heavy, her limbs becoming lethargic, and her clawing nails have less fight. She’s losing. Hell, we’re all about to lose here.
Three seconds.
I take aim.
Two...
Finger on the trigger.
One…
The kid drops her to the ground. A bullet in his shoulder.
“Breach,” I mutter into the mouthpiece in my ear. I don’t go to Magnolia until the team of cops waiting outside barge into the room and take him into custody.
Shoving my gun into my holster, I spot a bottle of water on the desk she had been teaching at before these boys invaded her safe space and drop to my knees next to her.
Magnolia.
What an odd name.
“Don’t move; just sit here for a minute. Take a drink of this.” Opening the bottle, I hand it to her. “Try to relax.” Her body violently shakes, and she winds up spilling half the bottle before swallowing a sip of the liquid.
“I-I-I-I ca-can-can’t s-s-s-s-eem to s-s-stop.” The stuttering grows worse as she tries to speak.
