Page 58 of Danger Close
“Hogan here.I’m moving through housing, almost to the south corridor.Will head to entry point.”
Then silence.
No answer from Ricky.No word from Marsh.
Ezra’s stomach twisted as he and Blake sprinted towards the communications buildings, comms buzzing in their ears.
“Pathfinder two, check in,” Bateman snapped.“Ricky, do you copy?Pathfinder four, Marsh, respond.”
More static.Then—finally, Marsh’s voice crackled through—hoarse, painfilled.
“Ricky was taken—van with blacked-out plates, logo on the side—some kind of delivery cover—transmit the scan now.Four men minimum, maybe five.Two of them were on site yesterday—confidence course.Fucking plants.”
Ezra’s heart stopped for a minute at the wordsRicky was takenand then started pounding even wilder within his chest.
Marsh coughed, it sounded wet.“I checked the chips—the kids are in the panic room off the classroom.”
Ezra’s heart lurched.“Copy that.I’m en route.”
“I saw the van.Ricky was slumped against the glass, bleeding, but he saw me.Alive.I tried to flank them but grenade—too much blood.Couldn’t follow.Couldn’t get up.”A pause.“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck,” came Dale’s voice.“Bateman, Marsh’s truck is toast.I see blood, lots of it.Oh, shit, Marsh, don’t you fucking die on me.Somebody get me a goddamn tourniquet!”
Blake skidded to a halt, eyes wide.Ezra gave a single nod.“Go.Help him.”
Blake bolted, already yelling for med staff and evac protocols.
Ezra kept running, mind racing, ears pinned to the comms.
“Marsh, stay with us,” Bateman snapped.“That’s a goddamn order.”
“Too much blood,” Marsh rasped, a note of sarcasm curling beneath the agony.“If I die, someone tell Blake his playlist’s shit.”
He reached the classroom at a full sprint.The door was half off its hinges.Blood smeared the walls.Two bodies lay in the hallway—one face-down, one folded over a desk.Ezra stepped over them, sweeping corners on instinct, the copper tang of blood thick in the air.
He reached the secure door.
He keyed in the override and it hissed open.Three small figures hurtled toward him—Celia, Ryan, Sophia—throwing their arms around him with wild sobs.
Ryan, brave and shaking, pulled back first.“Uncle Ezra ...Ricky fought.They came in with guns.He told us to get in here.Locked us in.”
Ezra crouched down, voice low.“You’re safe now.What else do you remember?”
Ryan’s eyes were huge.“There were five.Two of them helped with the ropes yesterday.Ricky tried to fight, but one shot him just before the door closed.I didn’t see where they took him.”
Ezra hugged them close, throat tight.
Over comms, voices crackled—Blake and the med team.
“We’ve got Marsh.Leg’s gone.We need a medevac now—he’s bleeding out.”
“Helicopter’s inbound,” someone said.“ETA ten.”
Ezra’s jaw locked.
He tucked the kids close and whispered, “I’ve got you.Uncle Ricky’s going to come home.And the people who did this...”
He looked out the window, across the field of the smoke still rising above the trees.
