Chapter 4 #3
I keep pushing panicking people out of the way, trying to get closer. So are all the others. Then the service door swings open. In my peripheral vision I see a small body with a white face. It’s Noah, out in the open looking for his mom. Linsey lunges after him.
I scream, “Hit the ground!”
All the bodies between me and the shooter do just that. They drop to their knees and scurry away, giving me the one clean shot I need. My hand is already at the back of my belt where my favorite throwing knife sits in its sheath.
My entire world narrows to that one moment in time, and I let my knife fly. The blade crosses the distance between us, skinning across the side of his neck. In less than a second his neck is gushing blood. The wannabe shooter drops the gun in a mad dash to cover his wound with his hands.
Rage gets there first, carrying his medical bag. He kicks the pistol clear and kneels to apply pressure to his neck wound. Talon stoops down to help. Tusk arrives an instant later. I glance over to see Tex talking to the mayor and the prosecutor.
The police chief is taking charge of the scene. “It’s over, folks. Stay down for now. We’ll get you out in an organized and orderly fashion. Nobody leaves before they give a verbal statement.”
“Stop fightin’ me,” Rage snarls, leaning his weight in. “Hold still.”
Me? I’m already moving in the other direction. Linsey has followed Noah under the table in the break room. She’s got her arms around him, rocking him slightly.
“It’s over,” I tell her. “The shooter is down and the cops have him. Are either of you hurt?”
She shakes her head. “No. We’re fine, I think.” Pulling back, she asks Noah, “Are you okay, bug?”
He just stares at her with a blank expression. I crouch down and keep some distance between us, thinking he might be in shock.
“Are you hurt anywhere, Noah?”
He shakes his head for a long moment before he gets the courage to answer. “No, sir.” There’s a long pause and then he stammers, “I saw what you did out there.”
I cringe a little on the inside. “Yeah, about that. I did my job. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”
“You threw a knife at him, from all the way across the room and he fell down.”
“Yes, sir. I did.” I keep my voice as bland as possible.
“Did they teach you that in the Army?”
“The Army taught me plenty of stuff, but not that. That was somethin’ I learned when I was just a boy. Throwing knives are serious business, Noah. You don’t ever throw one at another person unless it’s a matter of life or death.”
“Did you mean to kill him, Sabre? Did you?”
Linsey glances nervously at me. I know giving him a real answer without glamorizing violence is the right move here.
So, I clear my throat and tell him, “No. My job was to stop him, not kill him. And I knew we had a paramedic on our team. Rage is out there saving his life because that’s his job.
” Looking him in the eye, I explain, “Here’s the thing you need to understand.
Violence is something a man has to do when his back is against the wall, not something he chooses to do because he’s mad or wants to look tough.
Killing is wrong. That’s why I stopped that shooter from killing the man he was aiming his gun at tonight. ”
Noah swallows hard.
“Bein’ a soldier is mostly boring, son. It’s waitin’ around for orders, carryin’ heavy gear, and tryin’ to find a minute to grab some sleep. Then sometimes it’s a few seconds of action you can’t ever take back. So, you have to be sure to make good decisions.”
He nods slowly and asks cautiously, “Do you teach it? The knife stuff and the security stuff?”
I see that question coming and now is not the time to be talking about any of this. But then again, he’s just a kid going where his kid’s mind takes him. I glance over at Linsey for a second before I answer, because whatever I say, she has to approve.
I can’t fully read her expression. She’s still pretty shaken up about what just happened out there. There is also some gratitude and she’s a little guarded as well. But underneath all that there’s another fear or worry, something that I don’t think has anything to do with the shooter.
“I’ll teach you throwing techniques if you want to learn. We’d use safety blades, not real ones,” I offer, still looking at Linsey. “But only if your mom says it’s okay.”
Noah accepts that with a quiet dignity that might be funny on any other night. Linsey puts her arms around his shoulders and says to me quietly, “Thank you.”
I assume that means she’s approving his request. Glancing away, I find my chest has a hollow ache for some reason.
“Look, why don’t you go on home,” I encourage her. “The police aren’t going to release the scene tonight. I’ll make arrangements for you to give them a statement in the morning.”
“You can do that?” she asks, clearly surprised.
“Yeah, we have a good rapport with them professionally.”
Later, Talon finds me near the service corridor. He’s got two coffees and offers me one.
“Tex says that throw saved the prosecutor’s life.” He watches me over the rim of his cup.
“I did my job. We all did,” I say, taking a sip of the coffee. Talon knows me well enough to let it lie.