Page 123 of Tasting Fire
Now, she slid a few in each side and her fingers skimmed metal. Her stethoscope. Not entirely certain why that made her feel calmer and more in control, Emmy turned in the direction of the band director’s office, forced to step over his prone body as she did.
I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.
But now that she knew the rules to Mrs. Southerland’s sick game, she would save the children in this school.
Even if it killed her.
Cash’s phone went off with his ultra-loud SWAT text tone.
My God, this is completely out of control.
He pulled it out and read it.Active shooter reported at Steele Ridge High School. One confirmed fatality. Rally point in the middle-school parking lot.
Cash’s lungs felt as if they were trying to climb up his throat. Emmy was headed to the school this morning for some career deal. She was in there with no backup.
His hands were actually shaking when he got on the radio. “Kingston on SWAT One. Unconfirmed, but Dr. McKay is supposed to be at the high school today.”
“Someone find out if Emerson McKay is inside that building,” the captain demanded.
Cash called Emmy, but her phone went to voice mail after three rings.That doesn’t mean anything. She could still be at the hospital, busy with a patient.
He punched in a quick text:Where r u?
No return text.
Before hauling ass out the door, he ran back to his bedroom and grabbed the little prize Emmy had hidden inside his cheesecake. Somehow, if he had it with him, he felt luck would be with them both.
Exactly how a miniscule pack of playing cards could do that, he wasn’t sure. But by some fluke, the deck was entirely filled with the suit of hearts.
That had to mean something.
On his way to the middle school, Cash listened to everyone else check in on the encrypted radio channel. He had nothing to add to the report and he definitely didn’t want to miss a detail on Emmy’s whereabouts.
“The school is on lockdown protocol, but we were able to confirm that Dr. McKay signed in at the office at 0913.”
When Cash parked his truck in the school lot and jogged up to the tac team members already congregated, the captain waved him into the circle. “Kingston, you’ll sit this one out.”
What? “Ma’am, with all due respect—”
“With all due respect, you can’t be objective in this situation. Dr. McKay is on the inside.”
If he said he wasn’t scared as hell, he’d be lying. But this was Emmy they were talking about. “She’s a professional and so am I. You can’t afford to take me off the team. We have no idea how many injuries we might find in there.”
She stared him down and finally nodded. “Fine, but you are to function as a mediconly,once the operators have secured an area with people who need your help. Don’t go off on your own, and don’t break protocol.”
“Do we have an ID on the shooter?”
“All we have is a 911 text with this picture attached.” She held up her phone. On it was a blurry photo taken from what looked like a low vantage point. In it were Emmy, a load of phones in her arms, and a middle-aged man sprawled on the floor with half his face on the wall behind him. There on the left corner was someone else’s pink shoe, some kind of round-toed, flat-heeled deal, but the woman herself wasn’t in the frame. The shoe looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
Cash leaned closer to the screen and enlarged the image with his thumb and index finger. “Who is that?”
“As yet unidentified. So far, only one shot has been reported. We need to get in there before any more are fired.” The captain pointed to a blueprint layout of the school. “We’ll enter through the staff entrance off the vestibule. That’ll keep us from setting off the metal detector.”
“Wait a minute,” Cash said. “Did you say staff door?”
“Yes.”
“And there’s no metal detector on that one?”
“No, just in the public entrances.”
“Always locked?”
“That’s what I was told.”
“Then our shooter works for the school.”
