Page 19 of Deadly Hacker

She rushed to the door and peeked out, making sure the coast was clear before unlocking it and holding it open. “Come on, everybody. We’re going to a safe place to wait out the loud noises, okay? Move quickly, but be careful. Anyone who needs assistance, raise your hand and I will do whatever I can to help.”

“I’m scared, Miss Emma Jean!” cried one of the kids.

“It’s okay, Bradley. She won’t let anything bad happen,” Grace intervened, giving the frightened boy a one-armed hug.

Emma Jean only hoped Grace was right as she ushered the class out of the studio. She hurried them across the short hallway to the elevator. She could hear the occasional shout or scream from downstairs but tried not to acknowledge it. She wanted the kids to remain as calm as possible under the circumstances.

“Come on, let’s go,” she urged them.

She rushed back to help the kids, gently pushing everyone into the elevator while one of the parents held the open-door button. It was going to be a tight fit, but finally, Emma Jean was able to squeeze in. She immediately hit the button for the basement floor and held the close-door button until the metal doors slid shut.

In the tight space, many of the children sniffled, picking up on the adults’ fear. Emma Jean did her best to stroke their hair, hug them close, and reassure them. Her eyes stayed locked on the digital number indicating each floor they passed.

Emma Jean’s heart pounded. She knew they were on the first floor; Saguaro Bank, where the gunman was located. She also knew that the elevators were programmed to automatically open at the first floor. Panic flooded her veins.

What if the gunman was waiting for them?

Floor three, two, and one. The elevator stopped.

Emma Jean stepped to the front of the tiny room and spread her arms wide, doing everything she could to shield the others with her body.

Ding. The doors slid open.

The breath caught in her throat. “Nobody move,” she managed to whisper.

She caught a full glimpse of the bank. Customers were lying on the floor, covering their heads. Some were sobbing, others dead silent. Flashing lights whirled through the windows. In the middle of the lobby stood a tall, lone man.

Emma Jean felt a punch to her gut. The guy was instantly familiar somehow.

She slammed her hand into the close-door button as the man slowly turned around. He was holding a firearm at the ready. She could swear she heard it click.

Just as the man made eye contact with Emma Jean, the elevator doors slid shut again.

She let out a tight exhale as the elevator moved downward. The children were all whimpering by this point. The parents frantically tried to console them.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Emma Jean muttered, half to the kids and half to herself.

The elevator stopped with a thunk, startling everyone all over again. The doors whirred open to reveal the empty, musty basement. It was drippy and smelled of mildew, but there was no gunman in sight. It would have to suffice.

“Come on, kids!” Emma Jean said. “Follow me!”

Everyone filed out of the elevator, taking care to watch their step in the messy basement. Emma Jean led them through the dark to a small storage room. With shaking hands, she fished out her staff key and fit it into the door. It clicked open, and she stood aside to usher everyone into the dank little room. There were stacks of empty bank envelopes and old exercise equipment, along with many unmarked boxes of stuff probably long forgotten about. Once everyone was safely inside, Emma Jean locked the door and stood with her back against it, ready to use every ounce of her strength to protect the others if necessary.

She did a quick survey of the room; every child and parent was accounted for. Nobody was injured, though they were clearly all in distress. Emma Jean could hear muffled shouting from above and outside. She heard the echoing voice of the cop on his megaphone, though she couldn’t make out any distinct words.

She whipped out her cell phone and furiously tried to dial 911. She wanted to let the authorities know where they were hiding and find out what the situation required next. But try as she might, she couldn’t get her phone to make a call. She realized with a sinking feeling that her phone had no service down here in the basement.

All she could do was her best to entertain the kids and keep their spirits up, even as the gunshots rang out just one floor above them. Emma Jean wondered how long it would take for help to arrive, and how many bodies would hit the floor before they did.

CHAPTER9

RAD

Rad wason cloud nine as he left another successful finance meeting on his way to pick up Grace from yoga therapy. He already had his mind made up; he was going to ask Emma Jean out this time. He was dressed to kill in a casual slate-gray suit and navy-blue tie, his dark hair artfully pushed back from his face. He wore expensive cologne and a fancy watch. He knew he looked damn good, like an elite spy on his way to woo his Bond girl.

But as he turned the corner and saw the traffic of personal vehicles leaving the area while emergency vehicles rushed in, he knew something was terribly wrong. He heard sirens wailing, people screaming, and the echo of a man’s voice through a megaphone. Three ambulances and countless police cruisers were parked on the lawn of the Sunset Business Complex. Rad’s shrewd gaze scanned the crowd and quickly located Officer Finley. Rad parked toward the back of the convoy, tucked his firearm under his jacket, and sprinted to the scene.

In all the chaos, nobody seemed to notice him as he approached Officer Finley, who was standing by his police car looking up at the building with deep concern. He did a double take when he saw Rad darting toward him.

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