Page 20 of Engulfing Emma

“Keep your head down and stay behind the table no matter what. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“What about you?”

“It’s my job,” I tell her.

“Confronting gunmen is not your job, Brett. You’re not trained for this.”

“Well, it’s my job today.”

She nods, knowing I speak the truth. They’ve been locked in the school for hours, and as far as I can tell, no one has tried anything. I’m not even sure the gunman is trying to negotiate with the police. Whoever this Jeremy is, that Emma told me he mentioned, he obviously isn’t doing much to help his friend. I’m grateful, because I can only imagine what kind of ‘help’ another criminal would provide.

“Brett,” she says, looking terrified.

“I’ll be careful. Don’t forget to give them the signal over the phone when you hear me yelling.”

“Got it.”

“Get down now.”

Her eyes lock with mine, and I hope I’m doing the right thing. I pray Leo will not have to grow up without a father. I pray Evelyn doesn’t have to be raised by her grandmother. I close my eyes and see my son laughing as I push him on the swing at the park.

I breathe deeply and shake my head. Nobody will be lying on the floor in hysterics today. That’s not going to be how this goes down.

I shove a heavy hole-punch in my back pocket. It’s not much, but if it came down to it, and I hit him in the side of the head just right, it might subdue him.

I knock on the heavy door. I get no response.

I make sure Emma is still behind the tables and knock again. “Come on!” I shout. “I know you can hear me. A man is dying in here.”

The door is ripped open. “I told you not to fucking bother me.” Then he sees all the blood on my face and clothes.

I did that for effect, hoping to keep his attention on me and not on the overturned tables at the back of the room. It seems to be working.

“I don’t know what your agenda is,” I say angrily, “but this kid is dying, so quit being an asshole and let us out of here.”

“Asshole? Did you just call me an asshole? Maybe you’re forgettin’ who’s got the fuckin’ piece, motherfucker.”

We’re yelling at each other, and the hostages are screaming because they’re afraid. There’s even more noise than I anticipated. I hope Emma has given the police the signal.

“Motherfucker? Oh, that’s original,” I say. “What a limited vocabulary you have.”

“Stop it!” one of the hostages says. “You’re provoking him.”

The others chime in, and there is so much chatter in the room, it’s turning into chaos.

The gunman puts the gun to my temple. “Have you always been this much of a troublemaker, Ace? Now shut the fuck up so your homies will calm the fuck down.”

The hostages are on edge, and now that I’ve riled up the gunman, they are crying and yelling. I’m yelling. The gunman is yelling. I hope this doesn’t have to go on too much longer, because he just might pull the trigger.

There’s a loud noise behind the counter, and the police break through the office door. The gunman’s focus wavers, and I grab his arm and slam it against the wall. The gun falls to the floor. I push him down, grinding my knee into his back to keep him there.

“It’s clear!” I yell.

Twenty cops and S.W.A.T. team funnel through the door with their guns drawn. They’re not taking any chances that a second perp could be among the hostages. The gunman is hauled away, and each hostage is checked for weapons before being directed outside.

“I need a gurney back here,” I tell them.

I run to the overturned tables and move them out of the way. Emma stands quickly. “You did it,” she says, right before her body goes limp and she faints into my arms.

---