It was supposed to be an ordinary, boring day - but little did he know it would leave a mark on him, perhaps forever. It reminded him of the time when Amy was killed a year ago ... he was too cowardly to step in and save her. He remembered constantly rewinding and watching the tape of her getting shot. He would stop and stare at himself, hating himself for doing nothing. He got so sick, he thought the tape would change or something . But it never did. Only in his dreams where there was always a different scenario.
He didn't have the tape of that day but didn't need to as it played out in his mind over and over.
His cowardice stole the lives of innocent kids
The slap was unexpected, jolting him emotionally and physically. That alone made him realise he fucked up and it was all his fault.
It was around ten in the morning when it all started. After break, he stayed behind whilst everyone went to their classes. He had to make a quick phone call to Fuller to tell him he had to go to a party tonight. He used a pay phone outside the school, just across the road.
He was sent in to find out who was supplying pure cocaine to students in the school. He got close to a group, four friends who liked to cut class and party. After letting Fuller know, he returned back into school and headed to the bathroom to pee. He wondered whether he should go to class or not. He was late… very late. Was there any point? He washed his hands.
He was tired of pretending to be a sixteen year old kid when he was really twenty-three.
He was tired of doing the same schoolwork over and over.
Back when he was a kid, the only thing he liked was studying different subjects. The kids back then made his life hell. They called him a nerd and said horrible things about his dad because he was a cop. He never guessed he would relive high school over and over. He had these characters, covers under different names. It was nice to be someone other than himself every once in a while. And you know what? He was never bullied in school again.
He really couldn't be bothered to get to class and be yelled at by the teacher in front of everyone for being late.
After drying his hands he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and fixed his hair.
BANG!
He flinched, chilled to the core. There was no mistaking it was a gunshot
He cautiously left the bathroom and peered around the corner. The hall was empty. He neared closer… BANG! His sneakers squeaked to a halt. He felt sick to his stomach. He didn't know what to do… He wasn't armed. He left his gun in the car, thinking he didn't need it.
One thing for sure, he had to get outta there and call for help.
Only… one problem. The sound came from the direction of the exit.
The shots kept going and going… he ended up losing count… He peered down the next turn and saw a kid facing another direction and heading to another classroom.
He was carrying an automatic rifle.
He had no idea who it was. He wore jeans, a denim jacket with a couple of sewn on badges… it was the fashion those days - denim jackets.
Once he disappeared into another classroom, Tom scurried into the one he left to hide. What he saw it there stopped him in his tracks. Nothing, no one could describe the horrifying sight… blood everywhere, bodies lying there lifeless like mannequins. Every one of them was dead. Even the teacher behind the desk… Mr. Brinks who teached English. Everyone hated the guy - even him. He gave him detention last week just because he was three minutes late. He did not deserve to die though. Not any of them.
He hitched in a breath when he noticed a girl's ash blond hair was dipped with blood.
He'd seen a lot of fucked up stuff as a cop but not this. Not even close. He hyperventilated, close to tears. But he didn't dare make a sound.
It took a while to realise one kid was still alive. He was calling in a faint voice, help me… He recognised him. Trevor. He was one of the class clowns - but not in a bad way. He was real likable and everyone found him funny. Occasionally the teachers did too. Only now he wasn't fooling around. It was real. Too real. He knelt down and studied Trevor's injuries; a shot to his abdomen which was pumping with blood. He found a jacket draped over one of the chairs and used it to apply pressure on the wound.
"Please help me...I'm gonna die.." Trevor whispered, tears glistening in his eyes.
"No, no you're not gonna die. I'm gonna get help - just this here, okay?"
Trevor nodded, his expression mixed with pain and fear.
During that whole time, he heard two more shots in the distance.
He suddenly had one idea - smash the window and get out of there, call the cops from the payphone.
He zig zagged around the bodies and grabbed the nearest chair by the window before hitting it over and over until it cracked open. He quickly lifted his leg over the frame and hoisted over. He hitched in a breath from pain as the remaining glass that was stuck in the frame cut through his leg. He had no idea how bad it was and didn't care. He had no time to stop. Whilst he ran towards the phone, he saw a few kids running from the far entrance.
When he made the call, he identified himself and summarised what happened.
"Thank you officer Hanson but we already been notified."
He hang up then called Fuller just in case he didn't know.
Fuller sounded shocked on the phone and kept asking if he was okay. He said he was fine. Yes, he had a cut on his leg but that was nothing compared to the lives lost.
"He killed five kids… maybe more," his voice cracked.
"God…" Fuller responded. There was a few seconds silence then he spoke again. "I'm gonna get down there as fast as I can. Sit tight."
"You don't want me to go in?"
"No, I can't risk that. You need a vest, back up…"
"What am I supposed to stand back whilst he kills them all?"
"Wait until the cops show up, okay?" Fuller ordered. "You can't always be the hero."
He hang up, disappointed, despaired.
The cops showed up eventually. There was about five police cars. They were armed with guns and everything. They used a megaphone demanding the shooter to surrender. There was one last shot then silence. Terrified looking kids continued to burst out from the entrance, about a quarter of them was crying.
The officer stopped one of the kids. A girl about fourteen.
"Is the shooter still in there?"
"He- shot- himself," she said between sobs. "T-that's how we were-able to escape."
He was shocked but relieved.
"Who was it?" He asked her.
"Lewis…somebody. The- weird kid w-who didn't talk."
It clicked. Usually the loners, the quiet ones were forgotten and invisible. But not Lewis. He always glared at everyone. Sometimes he would push anyone who was in way. He felt creeped out by him and kept out of his way. But back then he didn't think he was disturbed enough to go on a shooting spree.
He felt someone grasp his arm. He turned. Fuller.
"Hanson - you okay?"
He shook his head. "I didn't do enough."
"You were unprepared. We all were."
His eyes travelled down.
"Hanson, you're bleeding."
"Oh, it's nothing," he said. "I smashed the window to get out and caught myself on a shard."
There was a small amount of blood surrounding the tear of his jeans. He didn't feel any pain until now. It was stinging.
An officer butted in. "You're an undercover officer right? You were on the scene?"
"Yeah... I don't know anything about this kid. I was in to investigate a drugs ring."
"Right… we want you in for questioning."
He understood it was a routine thing but couldn't help but feel he was the guilty one. It was his tone that said it.
"He should get medical assistance first," Fuller said.
The cop eyed the wound and then shrugged like it was no big deal. "That can wait. We need the details while they are fresh from your memory."
He gave a look to Fuller to show it was okay.
He followed the cops through the bustle. There were parents on the scene now, some reunited with their kids, hugging crying whilst some had none by their side. He started hearing the flying rumours that there was an undercover cop inside.
Then a woman approached him. She was in her forties and had short blond hair.
"You're the undercover cop?" She asked. "You were in there?"
"Um… yes," he said, unsure whether she was a journalist or a parent.
She then exploded in tears and anger. "You could've prevented this! You could've saved my little girls life!"
"I…"
Then she slapped him.
It was unexpected, jolting him emotionally and physically. That alone made him realise he fucked up and that it was all his fault.
The questioning was sort of like an interrogation. They criticised him for being there and doing nothing. After he told them everything they grew a bit softer and even offered him a glass of water. He left it untouched. It felt like he wasn't even in his own body anymore. In fact, he didn't want to be in it. He completely forgotten about the cut on his leg the whole time he was in that room.
He was free to go once it was all over.
Fuller and Doug were in the hall waiting for him.
"You okay man?" Doug asked sympathetically.
"I just want to go home… I'm tired."
It was true. He had a banging headache and his body felt old. It didn't help by the fact he didn't eat all day. All he had, was a coffee that morning before work.
"Okay… Doug will drive you. I have to be in the office a bit… sort some things out." Fuller said. He turned to Doug. "Make sure you get him seen at the hospital first."
"Sure capt'"
He didn't argue, too tired to argue. It wasn't until he got into Doug's yellow truck.
"I don't need to go to the hospital," he said. "It's no big deal."
He proved that by showing the dry patch of blood.
Doug hesitated for a second. "Okay, but just take care of it at least."
He suddenly noticed there was more blood to be seen… all over his hands. Dry and cracked. It wasn't from any open wounds or anything… but from Trevor.
He teared up. He had no idea if Trevor made it. He literally had blood on his hands. He should've stopped Lewis - not hide like a fucking coward.
Doug noticed the blood but didn't say anything. He just gulped.
"How many kids died?"
"I can't tell you right now.." Doug said, avoiding his gaze.
"Can or won't?"
"It's best you go home, wash up and sleep. You had a hard day."
He did so but in a zombie like manner. He showered and watched the water down by his feet grow pink from the blood.
The cut was laughably small of about two inches.
It was impossible to sleep. The horrifying images kept snapping back like a rubber band. He thought about Trevor - whether he was still alive or not. He couldn't forget his pleading eyes...
He would've had school tomorrow, however it was likely going to be closed off for a couple of days. After that, he wasn't sure what was going to to happen. Who knows if the guys involved in the drug ring had been killed? There was only one way to find out and that was to check the news. At first it was just politics then a short time later, he saw the school … taped off. It was all a blur. He could see people crying and some parents being interviewed. He felt so numb, he couldn't hear what was said. Then he saw some words underneath - undercover cop was present on the scene… He felt sick.
Everyone knew he was to blame…
Another caption read, eleven kids died and one teacher.
Fuller and Doug came to visit quite early in the morning. They both looked concerned, observing him and his surroundings. The place was a mess. Just like his head.
"You look tired - you couldn't sleep?" Fuller asked.
"You'd think I'd sleep after 'that?"
Fuller didn't say anything, just looked awkward.
He sat down on the couch and they did the same.
He scraped back his hair. "I couldn't sleep not knowing how many lives were lost… and then I saw the news. They were talking about me."
"I know…" Fuller said. "But don't worry, I've been fighting tooth and nail to prevent your identity from coming out to the press and I will continue to do so. You just have to lie low for a while - and that, I mean no going to the school or visiting hospitals."
"What am I supposed to do?" he said, struggling to stop his emotions from bubbling to the surface.
"Just take some time off, take care of yourself," said Fuller. "We'll make sure to drop by on a daily basis to check on you," he added.
He sighed. Hopeless. Completely hopeless.
Fuller suddenly looked at his watch. "I'll have to go downtown…" He looked at Doug. "You can stay here if you want. I don't need you until the afternoon."
Doug smiled. "Sure."
Fuller go up and left. He couldn't miss the anxiety seeping in his expression. It could only mean his appointment or whatever was about him.
"Why does he need to go downtown?"
Doug shrugged awkwardly.
"I know it's about me. I totally fucked up."
"It wasn't your fault."
"I should've done something more, even if I had to jump the guy to grab his gun and risk getting shot myself."
"By Sacrificing yourself?"
"Yes, that's what cops are for, sacrificing ourselves, right? We all chose to sign up for this knowing how dangerous it is day in and day out," he said. "And protect… we're there to protect. I was right behind that guy and could've stopped him."
"You've always been too hard on yourself. It was the same with Amy. You felt guilty for not saving her in time. But you weren't armed and you had no idea that guy was gonna shoot her. Some things happen beyond our control. We were trained to deal with all sorts of scenarios but I'm pretty sure a school shooting wasn't in the book."
After Doug left, he didn't know what to do with himself other than watch the news about the shooting on a loop.
Not being able to save Amy was one thing, but a bunch of kids? They had their whole lives ahead of them...
Fuller didn't tell update him much so he relied on TV stations and newspapers. It was said Lewis's dad used to be in the army and was an avid collector of guns. He wondered if his father taught him how to shoot growing up…However, he passed away from an Illness two months ago. Some journalist wrote the kid may of taken his passing hard and it was his way of lashing out. He probably wanted kids die with him before committing suicide. He thought it was a bunch of bull. He lost his father at the same age - but didn't once think about shooting a couple of kids to make things better. Even if they did bully him..
He just couldn't sympathise with Lewis and hoped his burial wouldn't be placed anywhere near the lives he stole.
After about a month, the incident become less talked about. The school was even in talks about opening back up again.
It was weird... In his mind, he could never forget about the shooting. If he was a kid in that school, he would never want to go back. How horrible it must feel to see empty seats of the victims and walk where their bodies once laid.
He returned to work but had no case, just paperwork so it was easy to hear things. He overheard Harry and Judy was going to be transferred into the school. He felt upset and angry. Why didn't anyone tell him?
He pulled Doug up at the soonest opportunity to verify it.
"They're going in just to keep an eye on things," Doug replied.
"Why wasn't I asked to go in?" he asked. "No one discovered I'm a cop and - "
"It wouldn't be good for you man."
His mind drifted...maybe he was right. He felt nervous even thinking about going anywhere near that place. After Amy was killed in the convenience store, he never went back even though it was the closest store to his home. He had to drive another fifteen minutes and on top of that, he avoided the street altogether.
Because he was a coward.
Harry and Judy arrived back much later to check in.
"How was your first day?" he asked Judy, masking his emotions.
"It was quite normal actually."
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "No one talked about it?"
"Some kids talked about it here and there," she replied. "I also saw memorials on the victims lockers, flowers and notes... but everyone pretty much did their own thing."
He couldn't bring himself to attend any of their funerals but he did visit their graves and leave flowers. He was afraid if he went to the funeral, they would see his guilt.
"You okay Hanson?" Judy asked, worry in her eyes.
He shook his thoughts away. "Yeah..." he replied. "Just do something for me okay? Talk to these kids, especially ones who were closest to the victims. Make sure they're okay."
"It's what I'm in for."
"Yeah... yeah of course."
She patted him sympathetically then walked the other way. He probably irritated her a bit but he wanted her to understand how important it was to him. He should've been the one talking to the kids...
I may or may not continue. I'm stuck :(