25. Active Shooter
Active Shooter
KNOX
I was on the couch flipping through channels when I saw CCMC on the screen.
The helicopter footage showed the parking lot first. LVMPD cruisers angled across every entrance, light bars flashing, officers crouched behind open doors with their weapons drawn. Yellow tape going up. The ambulance bay sealed. A scroll ran across the bottom of the screen:
ACTIVE SHOOTER SITUATION AT CLARK COUNTY MEDICAL CENTER. HOSPITAL ON LOCKDOWN. AUTHORITIES ON SCENE.
I was already dialing before the anchor started talking.
Nora's phone rang four times and went to voicemail. I hung up and called again. Voicemail.
I called Andy. It rang twice and went to voicemail.
Wyatt picked up on the first ring. "I'm watching it."
"What's going on?"
"Andy got the call twenty minutes ago. She's there, Knox. She responded."
"And Nora's inside."
"Yeah."
I stood up. My keys were on the counter. My truck was in the lot.
"Do you want me to come over?" Wyatt said.
"Please."
He was at my door in ten minutes. He walked in without knocking, looked at me standing in the kitchen with my phone in my hand, and sat down on the couch like he was settling in.
"Can we go?" I said.
"Go where?"
"CCMC."
"To do what?" He looked at me. "Andy's going to be pissed at me for showing up at an active scene and getting in her way. And Nora's going to be pissed at me for letting your injured ass out of this house." He pointed at the chair across from him. "Sit down."
I didn't sit down.
"Knox." His voice dropped. "I know. I'm watching the same thing you are. My girl is out there too. But there is nothing we can do right now except stay out of their way and let them work."
The screen hadn't changed. The helicopter was circling. The scroll was still running the same three facts over and over. Active shooter. Hospital lockdown. Authorities on scene.
I sat down.
We watched. Neither of us talked. Wyatt had his phone in his hand, screen up, waiting for it to light up the same way I was waiting for mine.
Every minute Nora didn't call was another minute I couldn't breathe right.