Haven's Knight

by Regan Ure

  “Detective Green,” I rushed to him. “What happened?”

  I asked the question, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answer.

  “We got called in when a teacher called the police station reporting gun shots.”

  No!

  “It only took us ten minutes to get to the school, but by then most of the students were out, including a few who’d been shot.”

  I swayed.

  “Haven?” I choked out, not sure if I was ready for the answer.

  “She is still inside the school.”

  Images of her lying in a pool of blood flashed through my mind, but this time there wasn’t a knife in her stomach: the blood oozed from bullet wounds in her chest. Every image sliced through me like a knife.

  I’d promised to keep her safe.

  “I need to go inside the school to find her,” I stated to the detective as I took a step toward the school, but he clamped his hand down on my shoulder, halting me.

  “There is no way we can allow anyone to enter the school. We already have a hostage situation and I’m not handing him any more hostages,” Detective Green stated firmly.

  “It’s Grant, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  It wasn’t something I didn’t know already, but hearing the confirmation out loud made me drop my head into my hands.

  Detective Green paused for a moment before he continued.

  “The teacher reported the gunman calling out the name Haven. They knew immediately that it was her stepfather, so the cop that took the call informed me. That’s why I’m here.”

  “What about the cop car that was always stationed outside the school?” I asked. I’d seen the cop car on more than one occasion. They’d also made sure to have a cop car outside the house as well.

  “They never saw anything. Grant must have got in another way, and by the time shots were being fired, it was too late, he had hostages.”

  I closed my eyes for a second, wishing this was a bad dream that I would wake up from, but when I opened my eyes I was still standing in front of Detective Green, living the nightmare.

  We’d failed her, all of us.

  The cops that had been there to protect her had failed. I’d promised her countless times I’d protect her and keep her safe, and I’d failed her, too.

  I could only hope that Mark was with her inside.

  “The only reason I allowed you past the tape was because you are familiar with the case. If you make one wrong move I’ll cuff you and put you in the back of a cop car,” he warned. His eyes conveyed the seriousness of his threat.

  “I can’t just stand here and do nothing,” I pleaded with both of my hands out to him, feeling my desperation rise.

  “We are trying our best to get everyone out alive.”

  Grant wasn’t going to hold Haven hostage—if he saw her he’d kill her on the spot. There was no negotiating with that, he wanted her dead. The hopelessness I felt was the same as when I had watched Dylan run out into the road and I couldn’t stop the car from crashing into him; all I could do was stand from the sidelines and watch it happen.

  “How many are still inside?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed to the entrance of the school and wishing I could make Haven appear safe and sound.

  The school was ominously silent.

  “We don’t have a definitive number, but we think there are about fifty students and two teachers still inside.”

  “Has he killed anyone yet?” I asked, remembering the paramedics frantically working on a couple of students.

  “We’re lucky in that there haven’t been any fatalities, yet. There have been four students with serious gunshot wounds that have been rushed to the hospital and there have been a few superficial wounds. It’s a good thing he’s a crap shot.”

  I was silent for a few moments. I let my gaze drop and I took a deep breath, trying to take in all the detective had told me.

  “We think he’s having a mental breakdown,” he explained. My gaze shot back up to the detective. “We think the death of Haven’s mom triggered something in him that snapped.”

  One of the officers nearby called out.

  At the entrance of the school, a student appeared. I blinked a couple of times, unable to believe what I was seeing, but I wasn’t seeing things.

  Relief flooded through me as I watched Haven standing in the entrance.

  Haven

  There was a person in the school with a gun shooting at students. Even though the reality was right in my face—panicked students running for their lives—it was hard for my mind to process.

  I glanced in the direction the students were running from. I couldn’t see anyone there, although I’d half expected to see a student with a gun randomly shooting.

  My thoughts jumbled in my head as my panic began to rise. My heart began to pound in my chest and the adrenaline began to flow in my veins.

  Students were pushing and shoving, trying to get the school’s exit. Some girls were hysterical and screaming.

  My first instinct was to get out as well, but I couldn’t leave Chris behind. I tried to remember what class he had just been to, but I couldn’t remember anything in my haze of panic.

  I gripped my school bag and slipped into the first empty classroom I could find. I needed a moment to pull myself together. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode right of my chest. I took a breath and released it, trying to calm myself down.

  I crouched down with my back against the wall beside the slightly open door.

  My hands were shaking so bad. I tried to hold them together to steady them. I took another deep breath to keep the panic from overwhelming me. Chris. I needed a way to find out where he was.

  My phone.

  With shaky hands I searched my school bag. It took me twice as long to find my phone because I was nervous, and I felt relieved when I found it.

  My heart pounded in my ears.

  I searched for Chris’ number and then called it.

  Pick up, pick up, I chanted in my mind, willing him to answer it. If he didn’t pick up I would have no way of knowing whether he’d gotten out or he was still stuck somewhere in the school, or worse. I shook my head, not wanting to even consider that possibility.

  There were plenty of horrible things I could deal with—I’d dealt with a lot in my life—but there were just some things that were too terrible to even think about. Chris had to be fine.

  With every ring that went unanswered, I lost a little bit of hope. It rang five times.

  “Haven,” he answered in a hushed tone. Relief flooded through me, he was alive.

  “Chris,” I whispered. “Where are you?”

  I was praying for him to be outside the school. I wanted him to be safe. I was so relieved that Damien was far away from here. There was no way I’d be able to cope knowing he was in danger.

  “I’m still inside the school,” he answered. I felt my heart drop. He was still in danger.

  “Where are you?” I asked, trying to hear what was going on outside the classroom.

  “I’m inside my art class,” he answered in a whisper.

  His art class was in the same direction where the gunshots had originated from.

  “Where are you?” he asked with concern. It was just like Chris to be in danger and worry about me.

  “I’m near my locker in an empty classroom,” I answered.

  “What are you still doing inside the school?” he said, the disbelief evident in his voice. “Get out.”

  “I can’t leave you,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t know how I was going to help get him out, but there was no way I was going to walk to safety while he stayed in the school hiding from a mad shooter.

  “I’ll be fine,” he assured me, but his words were empty. He couldn’t guarantee he would make it out alive.

  “I can’t leave you,” I repeated, my voice hoarse with emotion at the thought of something happening to him. I gripped my phone more tightly in my hand.<
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  “You have to, Haven. I’ll never forgive myself if you stay and something happens to you,” he whispered. I felt a physical pain in my heart.

  “The cops will be here soon and they will get me out,” he reasoned with me. They hadn’t even managed to catch Grant yet, so I didn’t have a lot of faith in them.

  “I’m not leaving you,” I said with determination, making it clear that there was no way I was leaving him behind.

  “Haven, please. I need to know that you’re safely outside the school,” he begged softly.

  “No,” I insisted in a whisper.

  The hallways were quiet now. The students had gotten out or were hiding like I was in the classrooms, too scared to make a noise in case the shooter heard them.

  I heard a beeping in my ear and looked down at my phone. The caller ID flashed on the screen—it was Mark trying to call me.

  “Chris, I’ll call you back. Mark is trying to call me. Make sure you put your phone on vibrate,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said and I disconnected the call. The call from Mark was still beeping.

  I answered.

  “Mark,” I whispered with fear and anticipation. Was he also stuck in the school?

  “Are you still in the school?” he asked, sounding out of breath.

  “Yes.”

  “Where are you?” he asked with concern.

  “I’m in an empty classroom two doors down from my locker,” I answered in a whisper.

  “Stay where you are, I’m coming,” he said, before he disconnected the call.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Haven

  I put my phone on vibrate as well. I had no idea where the shooter was. For all I knew they could be standing right outside the classroom I was hiding in.

  I didn’t want Mark to come and find me, I wanted him to get himself out of the school, but I didn’t even get a chance to argue with him and tell him it was too dangerous. I didn’t want him to risk his life for mine even though I was doing the same for Chris.

  I tried calling him back to argue with him but he didn’t answer. Frustrated, I wanted to throw my phone, but I needed it to keep in touch with Chris. I dialed Chris again. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hi,” he greeted nervously.

  “Hi. Is there any noise in the hallway by you?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on the slightly open gap in the classroom door. It allowed me to see into the hallway, but it was empty. I hoped that the mad person had moved to another part in the school and that Chris was out of danger.

  “What did Mark say?” Chris asked.

  “He asked where I was. He told me to wait where I was, that he was on his way,” I told Chris.

  The soft tap of footsteps outside in the hallway caught my attention.

  “I hear something,” I whispered to Chris. Panic and fear made me creep to the other side of the wall to the doorway so that when the door opened I would be hidden behind it.

  I held my breath with the phone still pressed to my ear, waiting for the footsteps to pass, but they didn’t.

  The fact that it might be Mark didn’t ease my fear in the least. If I showed myself and it was the person running around shooting innocent people, I was as good as dead. I had no way to defend myself.

  The door creaked open and I stayed as still as I could, pressed up against the wall. There was nothing I could do but hope it was Mark.

  The sight of the gun filled me with horror. It wasn’t Mark—it was the gunman.

  I wanted to close my eyes and pretend it was a nightmare I was going to wake up from. But when I opened my eyes the sight of the gun made it very clear that I wasn’t dreaming; it was real, and I’d run out of time.

  A hand holding the gun appeared as the person took another step into the classroom.

  All I could think about was Damien, and the precious few moments we’d had together, and I thought about Chris. I could just hope and pray he’d get out alive.

  The gunman took another step into the classroom. Horror filled me when I recognized the person. It was Mark.

  A new wave of fear swept over me at the realization that it was Mark, standing inside the classroom with a gun in his hand—and he was looking at me.

  “Haven,” he said, still holding the gun.

  I expected him to shoot me, but instead he shocked me by pointing the gun to the floor and holding out his other hand to me as he said, “Let’s get you out of here.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said to him, with my eyes still glued to the gun he held in his hand.

  “We don’t have time for this,” he said. “There is a gunman loose in the school shooting people.”

  It took a moment for my mind to process what he’d said. If he wasn’t the gunman, what was he doing with a gun?

  “Why do you have a gun?” I asked, still not moving, not sure if I fully trusted him at the moment.

  “It’s my job,” he stated as his eyes held mine.

  “Your job?” I echoed. What was he going on about?

  “I’m a bodyguard,” he explained.

  Bodyguard.

  “The Knights employed me to protect you,” he explained as he took a step closer to me.

  They did what? A bodyguard, how was that possible?

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, but we don’t have time to talk about it now. I have to get you out of the school,” he insisted anxiously when he stepped closer to me.

  My initial shock had worn off and I realized I was still holding on tightly to my phone. I pressed it to my ear.

  “Chris,” I whispered, but there was no response. I looked down at the phone to see that the call had ended.

  Immediately I tried calling back, but it just rang.

  “Come on, pick up,” I whispered, desperate to hear his voice and know he was okay. But he didn’t answer the call and it went to voicemail.

  “We have to go,” Mark insisted.

  “I can’t leave Chris,” I stated, trying to call him again, but like before it just rang and went to voicemail.

  Mark studied me for a few moments before he let out a resigned sigh. He knew me well enough to know there was no way I was going to leave Chris behind.

  “Where is he?” he asked.

  “He’s hiding in his art class,” I answered.

  “I know where that is,” he said.

  I looked at him, a little surprised. How would he know where that was if he didn’t take art classes?

  “It’s part of the job. I know the school inside and out,” he informed me with a shrug. It was still hard to believe that he was a bodyguard. He was so young.

  “I’ll go and get him, but you have to get out of the school, do you understand me?”

  I nodded my head at him. I trusted Mark to get Chris out.

  Quietly, I followed Mark out of the classroom as he looked around. I gave him one last look before I hurried down the hallway as fast as I could.

  I had mixed feelings when I reached the entrance of the school. One was relief, but the other was fear and worry about my two friends; even though Mark had lied to me about who he was, I still cared about him.

  As my eyes fixed on the scene in front of me, I heard someone call out. The sight of cops with guns aimed at the school scared me and I stopped for a moment.

  My eyes scanned the cops in uniform and then I spotted Detective Green with his hand resting on Damien’s shoulder.

  Damien. He was here.

  I saw the relief and fear in his eyes.

  I took put one foot in front of the other and began to walk quickly to Damien. Nervously, I tightened my hold on my bag and I was still holding my phone in my other hand.

  My eyes stayed on Damien. He turned away to look at Detective Green for a moment before his gaze swung back to me.

  Then I felt my phone vibrate and I stopped.

  I couldn’t ignore the call. What if it was Chris? I was at the bottom of the steps leading into the school when I answered the call. Everyone’s eyes were on me
, but my eyes held Damien’s.

  “Hello, Haven,” the voice on the other side of the phone said. My stomach dropped and I felt the dread creep over me.

  I’d know that voice anywhere. It was Grant.

  “I have your friend Chris,” he told me. It felt like someone had ripped my heart from my chest, but somehow I was still standing there with the phone in my hand, still breathing.

  Grant had Chris.

  Grant was the shooter.

  I closed my eyes for a second. Not once from the time this nightmare had begun had it crossed my mind that it might be Grant. Guilt overwhelmed me. It was my fault that this was happening.

  “I’m in classroom 21B. If you’re not here in ten minutes, I’ll shoot him,” he warned in a deadly serious voice, and then the line went dead.

  The urge to go to Damien was nearly impossible to fight, but I couldn’t do that knowing Grant had Chris. Mark had said he would get him out, but I couldn’t run the risk. I had to go back inside and face certain death at the hands of the evil that had plagued my life for so many years.

  To me there was no choice. Damien watched me. He began to shake his head when he realized what I was going to do.

  I knew this might be something he might never recover from, and it broke my heart that I would be doing this to him.

  “Grant has Chris!” I yelled.

  I couldn’t think about all the moments that I’d miss with him. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes and a single tear slid down my face. I felt my heart break as I took one last look at the boy I loved before I turned around and ran back inside the school.

  “No!” Damien screamed, when I reentered the school and started to walk swiftly down the hallway. I heard the heartbreak in his voice and it took everything I had not to turn around and go to him.

  I gave myself one more moment to think about him and what I was losing before I pushed it from my mind and brushed the tears from my face.

  Scared and fearful of what was going to happen, I began to walk down the hallway to where Grant had Chris.

  I felt the phone vibrate in my hand but it stopped when the call went to voicemail. It was heartbreaking ignoring his desperate calls.