Page 23 of Crusher

I pass the police chief, who hands me a taser, I won’t back down and won’t wait until protocol, especially not if someone is shot and I climb up the steps before rushing into the school.

Breathing heavy, I move up against the wall and slowly make my way to the first door and look inside.

The door is barricaded, and the tearful teacher under the desk, holding two crying children, points down the hallway, and I nod and head that way.

Pictures decorate the walls, pictures of happy children, and for a second, I wonder if one is my child, my son.

Fuck.

Shaking my head, I slide towards arguing.

“You shot him, you shot an innocent child!” I hear cried, and a woman sneers, “He’s the brat of your mistress!”

Fuck no.

I quickly press on my earpiece and murmur, “Child down, I repeat, a child has been shot, we need a crew in waiting!”

I hear several screams from outside within seconds, and my heart thunders as I hear, “He’s not my mistress's child! I’ve been fucking Principal Nattie, his mom is married!”

Fuck’s sake.

“What?!” the woman gasps before she cries, “Oh god, what have I done?” and I quickly round the corner and state, “Taser, drop your weapon!” causing everyone to look my way.

Kids are shaking, a man with a terrible toupee is trying to hold pressure against a small boy's shoulder, but I don’t look at him. Instead, I look at the woman who is covered in blood.

“I-I, oh my, what have I done?” she cries, “He, I mean, I…”

Her body trembles, and she moves the gun to her head, and even though I really want her to do it, I don’t want to traumatize these kids any more than they already are, and I press the trigger.

The woman's body trembles before she falls to the floor within seconds, and I let go of the trigger seeing she’s passed out, and the kids scream.

“Shooter down, I repeat, shooter down!” I say into my earpiece, and I run towards the small boy.

“Fuck, come on, Kayden, I’m so sorry, boy, so sorry,” the man cries, and fuck me, no, no, no, no!

Kayden.

“The shooter is in his hallway, Hayes, p-please let me get to my baby, let me get to Kayden, our boy…”

My son, my boy.

“Move!” I demand, and I shove him away as I check my son's pulse, but I don’t find it, and I choke, “No,” and I quickly begin CPR as the halls are swarmed by the feds, my captain demanding, “What do you need?”

“For his mama to be kept away,” I choke, and I press down on my son's little chest, causing blood to pour from his shoulder, and my captain orders, “Get all children into the gym now!”

“De-fib!” I hear and I quickly pull my son's top up, then grab the machine, set it up, and turn it on.

“Continue CPR,” an automated voice states, and everyone curses as police officers help kids out of the room, and I continue CPR.

“Come on, Kayden,” I murmur, my eyes taking in every detail of his features, so many of his mama’s, but mostly mine, and I struggle to breathe, but I don’t stop, I don’t allow myself to realize that I’m working on my child.

“Stand clear!” the voice echoes, and I lift my hands before it shocks my son, then beeps, indicating a faint pulse.

“Move it, now, now, now!” I shout, and everyone rushes into motion.

I quickly move my son onto his side just as the captain puts a stretcher under neath him and confirms, “An ambulance is outside, just arrived,” and I nod as I quickly strap my boy down, trying not to think about anything right now, but I can feel the terror beginning to settle in, my body shaking.

“One, two, three,” I grunt and lift the stretcher before quickly but carefully carrying it with my captain while an officer brings the defibrillator that is still attached.