Lanie leaned back against Rich as they huddled underneath the table he had flipped up sideways.
"What do we do?" she hissed. "What are we supposed to do now?"
He shrugged, peering at the still closed doors over the top of the table. "I'm…not sure. Little beyond my scope of smarts here, Lanie."
The study hall monitor pushed out from behind a clutch of kids, walking slowly to the center of the room while steadying his glasses on his nose.
"Where's he been?" Cassie snapped.
"Cool it," Lanie shot back.
"We need to file out the back doors of the cafeteria in an orderly fashion. I think we should be able to get out the side door back by the freezers, the one where they make deliveries."
A mad throng of students was suddenly pushing for the side door.
"Orderly!" the monitor screamed. "Orderly!"
OooooooooooooooO
Addison found herself sinking to the floor, Meredith and Izzie right beside her. "Which high school?" Meredith asked, digging her fingers into Addison's left arm.
"Washington Heights," Dr. Thade answered.
"Oh…wow…" Addison whispered under her breath. That's my daughter's high school, she thought. There was only one thing running through her head at that point, and that was that she had to go there. She had to go to her daughter right away.
"Here's what we're going to do. Those of you who are surgical attendings, we are splitting into two groups. One group will remain here to take care of the incomings. The other group will go to the school and help victims as they are brought out. At this point, we don't know how many, or even if any, students are hurt. There's not a lot we do know. But we are preparing."
OoooooooooooooO
Doug stalked down the hallway, the school eerily silent. Seven steps. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. He put his hand on the doorknob of his father's classroom and twisted. Locked. Using the butt of the rifle, he took a swing at the knob, to no avail.
He gave the window an experimental tap, once lightly, and then a little harder the second time. The glass splintered and gave way, and he pushed through and reached down for the doorknob. A chorus of sobbing met his ears as he pushed open the door.
George was boosting students up and out one of the side windows. Doug raised the rifle and leveled it at him. "Stop. Get away from the window."
Putting up his hands, George backed slowly away from the window. Only three students remained in the classroom as the last one George had helped wiggled out the rest of the way. Crouching low to the ground, the three remaining students ducked behind the desk as George held a hand out to his son.
"Doug? What's going on?"
"Step away from the window," Doug said again.
"Son," George said, taking another careful step forward. "Nobody needs to get hurt, just give me the gun."
"Don't call me son," Doug said for a second time. "You have no right to call me son."
"You're my son, Doug, you know that, you mean more to me than anything."
"Then why do call me a disappointment? Why do you talk about me behind my back? You act like my life is some kind of a joke, Dad, well it's not a joke to me. And it won't be a joke to you anymore either."
George took another step, keeping a student's desk between his body and his son. "Doug…"
"You keep telling me I'm nothing, Dad," he said, taking a step in the opposite direction from his father. "You keep telling me I'm nothing, but it's not true, Dad." Waving the rifle around, he said, "I'm something now, right? I'm something now."
"Doug, I…"
"I didn't mean to be a disappointment, Dad. I wasn't trying to be. But maybe the disappointment here isn't even me. Maybe it's you."
"Doug, I was was wrong, I…"
"Get on your knees," Doug whispered.
"There's nothing wrong with being ordinary," George stammered. "There's nothing wrong with you, son, it was me who was wrong, and if you give me the gun, we can fix it."
"We won't fix anything. I'm going to fix things." Doug jabbed the rifle at his father. "Get on your knees, now," he said, a little more harshly.
George dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, sucking in his breath so that by the time the bang came he felt nothing at all.
Doug turned away from where his father lay and walked around the desk, leveling the rifle at the three remaining students and pulling the trigger three times in rapid succession.
OoooooooooooooooO
Izzie and Addison sat together in the ambulance, their trauma kits in their laps. "How do we know what to expect?" she whispered.
"We don't," Addison said, shaking her head. "I guess we just don't."
"How do we find our kids?" Izzie's voice shook.
"I don't know, Iz. I just don't know."
"I wonder if they're together," she mused, "if they at least have each other?"
"Maybe."
Dr. Thade turned around in the front seat to face the group of doctors in the back. "We've gotten word from the police that this is a mass casualty event. The school is not secure, we need to stay back and treat people off the premises until we get the okay to move onto the property. Normal triage procedure will apply. Assess, perform basic treatment, tag, and move on. Red tags are critical. Yellow tags are secondary to the red tags, all red tag victims will be transported first. Green tags are minor, use these on all people with less severe injuries. Use the colored tags system, it's very important to rate the victims in order of severity. Resources on scene are focused on those who have the greatest chance of survival. Red tags will be transported to the nearest hospital after they are stabilized, and will be treated there. Try to get patient names. There are a lot of parents out there waiting for information." Dr. Thade locked eyes with Addison before asking, "Are there any questions?"
"Lanie could be hurt," Addison whispered. "How am I supposed to find her…?"
Izzie shook her head aimlessly as the ambulance came to a stop. "We treat people, and we let them come to us, I guess."
The back doors came open, and the doctors stepped out onto the asphalt.
Smoke billowed from a car in the middle of the student lot. There were people everywhere, across the lot and the lawns. Police officers with guns were herding the students and teachers off the property, directing the wounded and those assisting them to the makeshift triage area.
"Oh my…" Izzie clutched her triage bag to her chest, whirling around in a circle to take everything in. "Oh…"
Addison forced everything around her out, trying not to picture Lanie lying somewhere, hurt. "I can't think about those red tags," she whispered to Izzie. "If I think about those red tags, I think about my daughter being a red tag…and I can't think about that right now."
"Me either. Let's just…"
"Be positive?" Addison offered.
Izzie nodded, and they moved their way into the throng.
OoooooooooooooO
"It's locked," Rich said, pushing on the delivery door. "It must be locked from the outside. It won't budge."
"Crap," the study hall monitor murmured. "Now what?"
"Isn't that your job?" one of the other boys snapped.
The room filled with bitter bickering.
OooooooooooooO
Doug carefully pulled the chain out of the cafeteria doors, letting it fall to the tile with a clang that echoed through the now empty hall. Sirens echoed outside the school, and could he someone in the distant yelling on some sort of bullhorn. Pulling open the door to the cafeteria, he slipped inside.
OooooooooooooO
Lanie leaned back against the wall, pulling her hair back and hoisting it up off of her neck. "Rich, if it…if anything happens…I…I want…"
"Don't talk like that," he whispered. "Don't even think like that. Everything's going to be fine. We're going to be fine."
"No, I need to tell you something, I…"
"Lanie, it's okay. We'll be fine," Rich insisted.
Doug followed the sounds of arguing back into the kitchen. He at first blended into the crowd of students, until one of the girls saw the rifle in his hands and began to scream.
Lanie saw the rifle and slid down the wall to the ground. "Doug…" she whispered, so quietly that no one could hear her over the chaos. "Doug…what are you doing?"
"That's it," Doug said, pointed the rifle towards Lanie. "Everybody sit down on the floor. And shut up. I don't want to hear you talking."
Rich put one arm around Lanie and one arm around Cassie. "Doug?" he asked. "What's going on? What are you doing?"
Doug walked through the people on the floor and right up to Rich, leveling the barrel at his forehead. "No questions. You guys are my way out of here. Sit down, shut up, don't try to move, and nobody gets hurt."
OoooooooooooooO
Izzie wrapped a blanket around another one of the non-injured students and kept moving. "My son. Doug O' Malley. Has anybody seen my son?"
Several students shook their heads, parting ways for a girl who was lying on the ground surrounded by a small group. "O' Malley?" she whispered. "Mr. O' Malley saved my life. He pushed me out the window…right as…"
"George…" Izzie whispered.
Addison shrugged past her friend, bending down to treat the cuts of the girl on the ground.
"George saved you? Mr. O' Malley?" Addison asked.
"Yeah," the girl nodded. "I was…in his English class. We heard the explosions, and then there were these popping sounds in the hall getting closer and closer." She began to sob, tears streaming down her cheeks as she continued. "He started shoving kids out the window. He just kept telling us to move, move…"
"Did any of you see Doug O' Malley? My son, George's son?" Izzie asked.
"Doug?" the girl on the ground frowned, almost seeming to stop breathing. "Doug O' Malley…he's the one doing the shooting."
Izzie wavered on her feet before sinking down to the ground. Addison caught her before she hit totally. "George…what happened to George?" she whimpered.
The girl on the ground shook her head. "I was the last one out. I think he's still inside."
Addison wrapped a blanket around her best friend's shoulders and steered her over to the man who was hollering orders into the bullhorn. Pushing aside her fear for Lanie, Addison tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, Izzie said quietly, "It's my son. My son is the shooter."