The Shooting (3 page)

“This is Detective Senior Sergeant Tom Munro. He and Andy Warwick are negotiators based at North Sydney. Tell Tom what you got from our witness.”

Jett turned to face Tom, an expression of curiosity on his face. “Munro? Any relation to Clayton Munro?”

Tom nodded. “Yes, he’s one of my brothers. I have a few of them.”

Lane issued the slightest of smiles. “You can say that again. Jett and I were part of the investigation team that tracked down Clayton’s daughter, Olivia, when she was kidnapped earlier in the year. We’ve gotten to know him quite well since then. We’ve become friends.”

Tom nodded and recalled Clay mentioning the name of the lead detective and his partner. His brother had been impressed with Lane’s investigative skills and Clay was beyond grateful to have his daughter returned to him unharmed.

Andy edged closer and Tom understood the impatience in his partner’s eyes. “Give us what you have,” he said.

Jett drew in a breath and began to relate the course of events as best he knew them. “Ten-year-old Travis Church is in the fifth grade and is a member of the class that has been taken hostage. He was on his way back from the bathroom when he saw a boy he identified as Brady Sutton through the little viewing window in the door. Sutton was shouting and brandishing some kind of rifle. According to Church, everyone looked scared.”

Tom frowned. “Sutton? Isn’t that the name of the deputy?”

Lane nodded. “You’re right. Hannah Sutton is the deputy principal. We’re still trying to make contact with her.”

“I think that’s her now,” Jett interrupted and Tom turned to see a woman in her mid-thirties with soft brown hair pulled back in a bun hurrying toward them. She was pale and wore a grave expression. He stepped forward to greet her. Lane followed suit.

“Oh, my goodness, officers. I’m so relieved to see you. I’m sorry. I was on the other side of the school, in a meeting. I’ve only just been informed. I understand one of the children is armed with a rifle. He’s threatening to shoot. We-we have the school in lockdown. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Are you Ms Sutton?” Lane asked.

She nodded and extended her hand. “Yes, I’m Hannah Sutton, the Deputy Principal.”

She turned to Tom and he shook her proffered hand. He guessed she was acting on auto pilot.

“Tom Munro. We’ve met before. I’m Lily’s husband.”

Color flared in her pale cheeks and she looked away. “Tom, of course. I’m sorry. I’m a little…”

She flapped her hands in a distracted manner and shook her head. Tom could understand her preoccupation.

“We understand the boy is holding a class of students and a teacher hostage with a rifle,” he said.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been told. My-my assistant relayed the information to me.”

Lane cleared his throat. “We’ve spoken to a boy by the name of Travis Church. Right now, he’s waiting in a police cruiser for his mom to arrive. Apparently, he was out of the room when it happened and saw the shooter through the glass panel in the door. He told us the boy with the rifle is a child by the name of Brady Sutton.”

Any color that was in the deputy’s cheeks vanished the same instant she heard the child’s name. She went so white, Tom thought she was going to collapse. She wobbled on her feet and reached out for Lane’s sleeve, her movements jerky.

“D-did you say B-Brady Sutton?”

“Yes,” Lane replied. “I assume he’s a student here.”

“Y-yes. He’s…he’s my son.”

Tom sucked in a breath and tried to hide his shock. All of a sudden, he hoped to God their witness got it wrong. He couldn’t imagine what this woman would go through if it were true. Her
son?

“Christ,” Lane murmured under his breath and Tom knew exactly how he felt.

“I-I need to talk to Travis,” Hannah pleaded. “Please, let me talk to Travis. I need to ask him. I need to—”

“Hannah, with all due respect, we have to get into that classroom. You need to get hold of yourself and take us there, or at least point us in the right direction. Whether your son’s involved or not, there are at least twenty other people in that classroom. We need to ensure their safety. And the safety of your son,” Tom added.

His harsh words, tinged with urgency, seemed to penetrate the panic that had taken hold of her. She stopped short and took in a deep, shuddering breath. She put a shaky hand up to her mouth, then seemed to collect herself.

“Of course, Tom. I’ll do everything I can. I believe this time of day that class is in the music room with Mrs Munro…”

The rest of what the deputy said was blocked by a roaring sound in Tom’s ears. Dread and fear twisted inside him, turning his gut inside out.
Lily was in the classroom.
His wife was in the classroom with a kid who had a rifle. A roaring sounded in his head.

“Tom, Tom! What the hell? We have to get in there!” Lane yelled at him, but Tom barely heard over the noise in his head and the blood that rushed through his veins. He had to find Lily. He had to find her…

Andy appeared in his periphery and then gripped him hard by the arms. “Snap out of it, Tom. We need you. Lily needs you.”

“What’s going on?” Lane asked, confusion plain on his face.

“It’s the teacher. Lily Munro,” Andy explained. “She’s Tom’s wife.”

“Fuck.” The word fell with quiet force from Lane’s tongue. Tom nodded, in an agony of fear and indecision. He wanted to get inside and find Lily. He needed to keep her safe. But he didn’t know if he’d be of use or merely a hindrance. Lane made up Tom’s mind.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” He pointed to Tom. “You’re going to stay right here and wait for us to come out.”

An instinctive protest rose up in Tom’s chest. “But—”

Lane stared at him with hard eyes. Tom stared right back. The tense moment was broken when Andy stepped forward and drew Tom slightly to one side.

“Tom, listen to Lane. You need to stay out here, mate. It’s for the best. You’re too close. You won’t be able to think straight. It’s not what Lily needs right now. She needs the best we have.”

Tom listened and nodded reluctantly. Andy was right. There were teams of highly trained officers, including a team of negotiators, waiting to go in. None of them had the added emotional burden of being related to a potential victim. Lily needed the best. She needed a team that was cool and calm and focused. He was everything but.

“Okay, I’ll stay. I promise.” He stared hard at Andy and then grabbed hold of his sleeve. “Find her for me Andy. Bring her to me. I need to have her here, by my side. I need to know she’s safe.”

Andy held his gaze, his eyes bright with the intensity of the moment. “I will, Tom. I promise. I will.”

“Okay, people, gather close,” Lane called. “We’re going in.”

CHAPTER TWO

Chatswood Elementary School, Sydney—present day

Brady wiped the sweat out of his eyes with the back of one hand, careful to keep the gun aimed as best he could on the members of his class. His gaze darted wildly from face to face, searching for the one he sought.

Where was he?
He should be here. He was always here. And yet, Brady couldn’t see him. With another swipe at the perspiration that slid into his eyes, he walked between the rows of desks, searching for Ian Little.

Kids shrank away from him, their eyes wide and wild with fear. He chuckled. They should be scared. He was a hunter on the prowl. They didn’t know which one of them was in his sights.

“Ian Little!” he shouted, becoming impatient. “Show your gutless face right now. I know you’re here. You’re always here. You’ve been here every day of your miserable life. I should know. You’ve done all you could to make my life miserable, too. I’m here to tell you it’s over. You’re not going to bully or tease or fight me again. Got it?” he roared, spinning around and cursing loudly when his nemesis failed to appear.

“Show yourself, you gutless cocksucker. Don’t force me to choose someone else. You’re the fucker I’m after. Have some balls and show your fucking face.” He could see from the look on the faces of the other kids that they were shocked by his cursing. He’d be shocked, too, if he were them.

But somehow, after a month of almost daily exposure to the obscenities freely uttered in
GTA
, the profanity felt good, the mere utterance of the words empowered him: He was all that mattered. Right here, right now, it was all about Brady Sutton. His cursing and fuck-you attitude had certainly had the desired effect—the kids looked more terrified than ever. Even Mrs Munro had gone pale.

Brady swung around to face her, the gun steady in his hands. She flinched and moved away, placing the large teacher’s desk between them. He lowered the gun a little and tried to make her see she wasn’t the one he hunted. He liked Mrs Munro. She’d done nothing but treat him with kindness. Besides, she was his mom’s friend. He had no gripe against her.

“Brady, honey. Put down the gun. Let’s talk about it. You’re looking for Ian. I take it he’s made you angry?”

Brady stared at his teacher like she was talking in tongues. “Angry? Of course he’s made me angry. For every single day I’ve spent here, he’s made my life a living hell. I’m here to even the score. It’s only fair, don’t you think?”

“Of course, Brady. I understand exactly how you feel, but hurting Ian won’t help anyone. How about you put down the gun and we can talk about it. I’ll help you come up with an agreeable solution.”

Rage ignited inside him and despite the fact it was Mrs Munro trying to help him, he lashed out.

“I don’t need your fucking help! I’ve found an agreeable solution! I have a gun! I’m going to blow his fucking head off. Boom! His brains are going to splatter all over the place, like a watermelon dropped from a three-storey building. I’ve seen what happens when someone takes a bullet to the head. It isn’t pretty.”

A heightened level of fear now shadowed Mrs Munro’s eyes. Brady compressed his lips in a moment of regret. He hadn’t gone out of his way to scare her, but the fact was, he was there for just one purpose and nothing she said or did was going to deter him.

“Ian!”
he screamed. Get your fucking, chicken-livered, gutless self out here right now! In a moment, I’m going to start shooting and it will be your fault if anyone dies.”

A second passed and then another. Brady looked wildly about. No one looked at him, no one moved. And then he saw it—or more accurately, saw
him.
Ian Little.

The gutless wonder was on the floor, crawling on his hands and knees between the desks, doing his best to escape undetected. Brady scoffed.
As if.
There was only one way Ian Little was leaving this room and it wasn’t on his hands and knees.

With long strides, Brady ate up the distance between him and the boy he hated above all others. Mrs Munro cried out to him, trying to get him to stop. He ignored her pleas and the screaming of the class. His vision narrowed to Ian. The cocksucker was a matter of feet away from the door.

Brady halted and looked down the scope of the rifle and then carefully took aim. His heart thudded hard. It was like a movie playing out in slow motion. The moment he’d dreamed of had arrived and he would savor every second of it. This was the moment Ian would pay for every insult, every blow he’d ever inflicted. Let him feel the pain for a change and the uncertainty of what was yet to come. Yes, Brady might toy with him a bit then deliver the final blow. It was do or die, just like on
GTA
.

As if sensing the game was up, Ian turned around and faced him. Spying the barrel of the rifle only inches away from his head, Brady’s lifelong enemy screamed and scrambled and stumbled, trying hard to get out of the way. He slithered and slipped and stumbled until he’d almost made it to Mrs Munro’s desk.

Brady advanced upon him, knowing how this was all going to end. There was no escape. Ian should know that. The end was close. So close. He took aim again.
This was it.

His finger squeezed the trigger just as Mrs Munro threw herself in front of the gun. She reached out for it and dislodged it, knocking it out of his hands. At the same time, a puff of smoke came from the end of the barrel and a bright red stain appeared low on his teacher’s front. The fear on her face turned to shock and then she slowly slid to the floor.

The classroom erupted into screaming and kids knocked him this way and that in their haste to get out of the way. He stared at Mrs Munro. Just like when he played
GTA
, she lay still and silent in a pool of blood. The gun lay abandoned on the floor.

He bit his lip against the tears that threatened to choke him when he realized what he’d done. A howling started way down deep inside him and a moment later, his own cries of distress and disbelief joined the chaos in the room. He slid to his knees beside his teacher and used his hand to try and stem the blood. It oozed, warm and sticky, between his fingers. It felt nothing like he expected.

Shouting and the pounding of feet from outside in the corridor drew his attention and it was like he was in the middle of a PlayStation game when a barrage of officers dressed in combat gear poured in through the door. With guns drawn, they screamed at him to put his hands in the air. Trembling violently now, he did his best to comply.

With his gaze lowered, he stared past his teacher and then spied the figure of Ian Little. The boy was huddled beneath Mrs Munro’s desk, shaking from the force of his tears. An overwhelming sense of failure surged through him and he moaned. It had all been for nothing. He hadn’t shot Ian at all. Ian was alive and well. It was Mrs Munro who lay so still and pale, bleeding all over the floor and just like in
GTA
, the game had come to an end.