Chapter Three #2
I nodded. “It’s real. Shots fired on the main green. They haven’t secured the campus.”
“We’re going full lights and sirens.” He yanked open the driver’s door and climbed in. I slid into the passenger seat, tossed my heels to the floor, and pulled the seat belt over my chest.
He glanced at me, his eyes returning to the road. “Have you heard from her?”
“No… No, not yet. Do you think she doesn’t know? That seems worse.”
A sharp curse slipped out of Thomas before he caught himself.
He started the engine, and the dashboard lights washed the inside of the SUV in blue.
The hum of the motor filled the silence between us while he shifted into gear, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the ramp as if the only direction left in the world was out.
“What are you not telling me?” I said, staring at his profile.
He sighed, the harsh fluorescent lights of the garage and blue emergency lights washing over his face in quick pulses.
“Governor Fairchild held a press conference this morning. Red Ridge is officially back from the dead. A whistleblower, journalist, and oversight committee gave him no other option.”
“What the hell? Think it’s connected to Marymount? Is Deacon aware?”
“Possibly, and yes. At least for now, all is quiet in Colorado.”
I sat back in my seat, the tension in my chest easing only a fraction.
We shot up into mid-morning traffic. Thomas threaded through cars with the kind of precision and purpose that meant he was already thinking three turns ahead.
“I need her to call,” Thomas said, gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “If she’s hiding, calling her could get her killed. Why hasn’t she called?”
“Maybe she’s found a safe way off campus and is on the move. They’re likely already in lockdown, so she could also be doing exactly what she’s supposed to, staying hidden and quiet.” My heart struggled to believe both, but somewhere between those two possibilities, my chest ached.
“Does Marymount have campus alerts?” he asked.
I nodded. “Pushed to students first. Public feed is already lagging.” I opened my text messages, thumb shaking as I typed, and then read what Marisol had already written.
“Sol reports multiple down on the green. Unknown shooter location. Unknown number of suspects.” I swallowed. “Unknown number of casualties.”
He changed lanes hard, shot through an opening, and accelerated. “What else did she say?”
“They’ve gotten a few reports that it may be multiple shooters.” My thumb hovered over my notifications. Each update was worse than the last. “They’re locking down in waves.”
“In waves? What the actual fuck does that mean? The whole area should be locked down!” Thomas blew out a long breath, attempting to siphon panic out of his bloodstream. “We should’ve heard from her by now.”
“We don’t know where she was when it started. That means she’s being smart. Sheltering, phone off like we taught her.”
Thomas cut between a truck and a compact that never saw us coming. The cars ahead of us parted just enough for him to surge forward.
I refreshed the campus alert page. “Still says ‘active incident.’ No cleared zones.”
Thomas muttered, “Come on, come on…” under his breath, weaving through traffic as if muscle memory guided the wheel.
My phone buzzed against my palm, and I turned it over to read over the message. Nothing helpful—just another alert, another news push, another useless update that told me everything except what mattered.
“What if she’s hurt?” Thomas asked quietly.
The words hit with a physical sting.
I forced myself to answer calmly. “Then we’ll be there soon to help her.
” I watched the lane lines blur, thinking of something pertinent to say that would distract him of the same visual I’d just gotten in my mind.
“If she’s hiding, calling us is last on the list. Silence.
Barricade. Stay put. We’ve drilled it into her head since she arrived. ”
Thomas knew that. He just needed to hear me say it out loud.
The highway exit appeared. He took it too fast, the tires giving a muted protest. We merged onto the main road toward Marymount, which was already clogged with panicked parents and news vans trying to inch in.
Thomas didn’t inch.
He leaned on the horn, cutting down the shoulder until traffic had no choice but to peel away.
“Ask Sol to get a direct contact from someone on scene.”
“Already done, she’s trying.” I scrolled through my phone. Thomas was driving so fast and making so many moves that I kept missing the icons. “She’ll call.”
I pulled up the internal FBI chat, sent a rapid request for on-scene intel, then I dialed the campus emergency hotline but got an automated message drowning in static. Every line was overloaded.
The SUV lurched around a corner, sending me against the door and bracing against the ceiling. We were close enough now that sirens could be heard from every direction.
“Damn it,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I can’t get a real-time feed. Everyone’s scrambling.”
Thomas reached over briefly, his palm warm against my knee. “We’re ten minutes out. Whatever’s happening, we’ll get to her.”
I nodded even though my chest had tightened to the point of pain. “She’s resourceful. You know how she is.”
“Fuck, I need her to call. I need her to call us right now.”
As if summoned, my phone lit up.
Incoming call: LIVVY
My breath caught hard enough that I half-choked.
“Put it on speaker,” Thomas said, switching off the siren.
I hit accept. “Livvy? Livvy, can you hear me?”
Sniffling. A breath. Then, finally, a whisper. “Liis?”
Relief punched through me so sharply I had to brace my hand against the dashboard. “I’m here,” I said, keeping my voice low and steady. “Thomas is here. We’re on our way. Where are you, honey?”
“I’m… I’m in the lower level. The… the basement lounge. We—” Her voice broke.
“It’s okay,” I said quickly before fear could overtake her. “You’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to. Listen to me carefully, okay?”
“O-okay…”
“Do not talk above a whisper, Livvy, even if you’re scared. Stay as quiet as you can. Silence is a shield. What building are you in?”
“The uh… the humanities building.”
“Is there a door you can lock? How many exits?”
“Um…” She paused briefly. “Two exits. It’s like a rec room. Lots of tables, a ping pong table…”
“Lock it if you can. Barricade the door. Put anything you can find in front of it—tables, chairs, shelves—anything heavy. Do it as quietly as you can.”
“O-okay.”
“If there are lights, turn them off. If your phone isn’t on silent, do it now.”
I heard the tiny click as she switched it.
“You’re doing great, Livvy,” I said softly. “Are you alone?”
“No. Um, eight others. They’re hiding, too. We ran to this, like, large closet in the back corner of the lounge.”
“Tell them to silence their phones. Do not disturb mode, no vibration.” I waited while she furiously whispered all of my instructions to the others and then heard muffled movement. “Livvy, are the windows exposed?”
“They’re high up—like, ground-level high.”
“That’s good,” I said, forcing calm into every syllable. “Stay low. Stay away from sightlines. If the shooter is outside, you do not want movement near the windows.”
Thomas glanced over at me, his knuckles white again.
“Livvy,” I gently continued, “We’re close. We’re coming to you.”
She sniffed again, but her breathing steadied a bit.
My phone buzzed in my hand again, this time a call from Bodhi.
“Thomas,” I whispered. “It’s Bodhi. His sister’s there too.” I took his phone, found Bodhi’s contact information, and pressed the number, listening for the ring before handing it back.
Another call lit up my screen. Shit.
MARISOL
“Livvy,” I said, “I’m going to keep you on the phone with me, but I need to put you on hold for a moment. It’s going to get quiet, but do not hang up. If we get disconnected, call back. Do you understand?”
“Please hurry,” she whispered.
“Bodhi?” Thomas said. “Yeah… yeah, we’re on the phone with her now. Yes, we’re on our way. I’ll call you back.”
“I will, I promise,” I answered Livvy. “Stay quiet and still. Don’t move unless you absolutely have to. I’ll be right back.”
“O-okay.”
I switched lines.
“Marisol? Talk to me.”
Her voice came rapid, clipped, all business with concern tightly wound beneath it. “Shooter was spotted outside the humanities building.”
My heart stopped.
Marisol continued. “More units are en route but the perimeter isn’t fully secure. We don’t know if he’s still mobile or trying to get inside. Have you heard from her?”
“Yes,” I said, closing my eyes.
“Where is she?”
“The humanities building,” I breathed out.
“She’s hiding?”
“Yes, lower level. They’re barricading the doors, but not much cover.”
“I’ll keep digging,” she said.
“Confirmed casualties?” Thomas asked.
Marisol hesitated. “Multiple.” She sighed.
“He opened fire on the green before moving toward the cluster of buildings. The school had solid procedures in place, though. He’s only been able to enter one building so far, but there are reports he cut himself fairly seriously when breaking a window to enter and doesn’t seem to be willing to risk it again. ”
I swallowed hard. “I’ve got to get to her.”
“Liis,” Marisol warned. “Keep your head. Be careful.”
“Noted.”
I switched back.
“Livvy,” I whispered. “I’m here.”
Livvy exhaled into the phone as if she’d been holding her breath underwater. “We blocked the doors as best we could.”
“What’s the plan when we get there?” Thomas asked, eyes locked on the road. “We’re not sitting behind a perimeter.”
“It’s a full lockdown now.” I dragged in a breath, tried to make my voice sound like someone who’d done this before—because I had, just not with one of mine in the crosshairs.
“We don’t know where he is. We don’t know how many.
We don’t know their containment. If we rush in blind, we become part of the problem. ”
He shook his head once. “I am not standing still while Livvy hides in a closet waiting to die.”