Riley Palmetta glanced at the classroom door when it opened. She didn’t recognize the student who poked his head inside, so she turned her attention back to the professor. Only one more week of classes, she reminded herself as she battled another wave of senioritis. The birds chirping outside the window only served to remind her of the balmy spring weather.
Letting out a little sigh, Riley let her mind wander. With graduation just around the corner, she could almost taste freedom. Finals week would be rough, but then everything would be smooth sailing from there. She considered her struggles of the past four years—the part-time jobs, the internships, the endless studying, and the mountains of scholarship applications. “Free time” was still a foreign concept to her, but she looked forward to finding out exactly what it entailed.
She supposed she had always been driven, even in high school, when she had taken every advanced-placement class offered so that she could whittle down the time it would take her to earn her college degree. Her parents, neither of whom had attended college, still didn’t understand Riley’s inexplicable desire to succeed or her insatiable need to learn. More precisely, they couldn’t understand that Riley actually liked making goals and working toward something.
In an attempt to keep her closer to home, her father had continually insisted that Oswell Barron University was too exclusive and too expensive, but Riley hadn’t listened. The private university in Bainbridge, North Carolina, a small college town half an hour north of Durham, was everything she wanted in a school. Its size, location, prestige . . . even the scholarship opportunities had been a perfect match. Now, after four years of college, Riley was just a heartbeat away from collecting her engineering degree—and she had done it without a single penny of debt.
She glanced at her watch, already wishing the class was over even though they still had another thirty minutes to go. She turned her eyes back to the professor just in time to hear a hammering noise and see him drop limply to the ground. A moment later the noise repeated itself, and the boy in front of her slumped down onto his desk as screams echoed through the room. Riley looked up to see the slender, dark-haired man point his gun and shoot off another round.
This can’t be happening! Riley thought as the girl beside her fell to the floor. Instinctively, Riley dropped down beside her. She couldn’t believe her eyes. This man was actually shooting at them! Blood dripped onto the floor in front of her from the lifeless form sprawled over the desk—a lifeless form that had been planning to study with her tonight.
Her heart pounding, Riley squeezed her eyes shut to block out the horrifying images. She grappled with reality, her mind whirling. Suddenly, the gunfire stopped, and she heard footsteps in the hallway along with a panicked voice a few rows back.
She didn’t even have time to lift her head to see who else had survived before another spray of gunfire erupted in the classroom. The smell of blood overwhelmed her, and she heard a little voice in her head tell her to play dead—that if she wanted to live, she had to appear as though she were among the fallen.
She kept her eyes closed as once again the gunfire momentarily ceased. Muscle by muscle she tried to relax. Perhaps this was just a bad dream, she thought to herself. Maybe she had dozed off again in class and at any moment the professor would wake her up. She didn’t jolt when the next spray of gunfire began, which she considered a miracle in itself. It also proved what she didn’t want to face: this wasn’t a dream.
Chapter One
Two years later
Tristan Crowther drove through the historic section of Bainbridge as he headed for Oswell Barron University. Until today he had only seen the campus on television, and he was almost surprised by the peaceful setting as he pulled up near Sedgely Hall. He climbed out of his truck and glanced in the back, quickly checking under the tarp to make sure his gear had survived the trip.
He took the time to study the three-story structure in front of him as he approached. The stone was weathered and gray, the hard lines of the building making it seem somewhat formidable. Adding to the gloom was the knowledge that twenty-three people had died inside the walls of Sedgely Hall just two years earlier. He still remembered the helpless feeling that had washed over him when he’d heard the news.
But now he pushed those thoughts aside as his deep blue eyes scrutinized the building. The warrior in him evaluated the possibilities for entry and escape as he struggled to keep his objectivity. He might have been helpless to stop the massacre two years ago, but he could make a difference now.
The students and faculty of Oswell Barron University had spent the past two years trying to recover from the tragedy. Now, in an effort to prevent similar incidents from happening again, they were offering their campus as a training ground for law enforcement officers. Tristan was part of the task force that would help create the training course, which would begin in three weeks.
Other books by Traci Hunter Abramson:
Undercurrents
Ripple Effect
The Deep End
Freefall
Lockdown
Royal Target
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
About the Author
Lockdown
Prologue
Chapter One
Other books by Traci Hunter Abramson:
Royal Target Page 26