Also by Stacy Claflin
An Alex Mercer Thriller
Girl in Trouble
Turn Back Time
Little Lies
Against All Odds
Don't Forget me
Bayside Hunters
Bayside Opposites
Curse of the Moon
Lost Wolf
Chosen Wolf
Hunted Wolf
Broken Wolf
Cursed Wolf
Secret Jaguar
Fall Into Romance
Lost in Romance
Gone
Gone
Held
Over
The Gone Trilogy
Dean's List
Indigo Bay Sweet Romance Series
Sweet Dreams
Sweet Reunion
The Hunters
Seaside Surprises
Seaside Heartbeats
Seaside Dances
Seaside Kisses
Seaside Christmas
Bayside Wishes
Bayside Evenings
Bayside Promises
Bayside Destinies
The Hunters: A Collection
The Transformed
Deception
Betrayal
Forgotten
Ascension
Duplicity
Sacrifice
Destroyed
Transcend
Entangled
Dauntless
Obscured
Partition
Fallen (The Transformed Prequel)
Silent Bite: A Transformed Christmas
Hidden Intentions
Saved by a Vampire
Sweet Desire
Valhalla's Curse
Renegade Valkyrie
Pursued Valkyrie
Standalone
The Transformed Series - Four Books
The Transformed Box Set
No Return
Tiny Bites
Haunted
Dex
When Tomorrow Starts Without me
CONTENTS
Title Page
Dedication
Attack
Terror
Frantic
Mess
Trapped
Pursuit
Bomb
Detained
Corral
Tied
Finally
Contrast
Fretting
Room
Overwhelm
Connection
Relief
Struggle
Sweet
Mistake
Emergency
Fight
Time
Conflicted
Shock
Convince
Question
Intimidation
Strike
Search
Epiphany
Truth
Lead
Flee
Guilt
Nowhere
Surprise
Temptation
Crushed
Back
Convince
Cabin
Horrified
Explain
Alone
Despair
Confusion
Regret
Hidden
Assault
Pursue
Racing
Held
Chase
Hospital
Resting
Over
Secrets
Don't Forget Me
No Return Preview
When Tomorrow Starts Without Me
Author's Note
Other Books
AGAINST ALL ODDS
AN ALEX MERCER THRILLER #4
by Stacy Claflin
http://www.stacyclaflin.com
Copyright ©2018 Stacy Claflin. All rights reserved.
©Cover Design: Didi Wahyudi
Edited by Staci Troilo
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental or used fictitiously. The author has taken great liberties with locales including the creation of fictional towns.
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited. Do not upload or distribute anywhere.
This e-book is for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with others, please either purchase it for them or direct them to StacyClaflin.com for purchase links. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
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Dedication
To all the victims of school shootings
I finished this manuscript the morning of the Stoneman Douglas massacre. I struggled with whether to change it or even to not release it, but these tragedies are something we face as a society. Exploring these issues through story is part of how I process difficult events and situations. I hope reading this novel helps you work through your feelings, too.
Attack
Ava Fleshman leaned over the sink and studied her makeup in the mirror. She’d done a decent job of covering the dark circles under her eyes. Not that she cared what anyone thought.
She pulled out a tube of the darkest red lipstick she’d been able to find, and swiped it carefully across her lower lip. Halfway through her top lip, she froze.
Screaming sounded outside the middle school bathroom.
Probably just a group of kids skipping class, like her.
Ava finished her lipstick, then turned around.
The shouts grew louder. Frantic.
Footsteps thundered, sounding like a stampede.
Someone yelled the word gun.
Her heart skipped a beat, then raced. The lipstick fell from her grasp and bounced on the tile floor.
Ava couldn’t move. Did someone really have a gun? As in, a real one? Not just some stupid prank, like Connor Johnson pulled last year?
She crept to the door and pulled it open a crack. Just enough to peek out with one eye.
Kids ran in all directions, some yelling and others crying. Bags, books, and other items lay strewn about.
Boom!
It sounded like a firecracker echoing down the hallway.
Ava knew better. It was a gunshot.
No, this was nothing like what Connor had pulled a year earlier.
Someone ran toward the bathroom. He pushed on the door before Ava had a chance to move. The door hit her in the nose. Hard.
Blood gushed out and her nose throbbed.
“Watch it!” She shoved the football player and covered her nose.
“Hide!” Ryker pushed past her and jumped into one of the stalls.
Ava dropped her bag and ran into another stall, still covering her nose. Blood now dripped down from her palm onto her white shirt. She grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and held it up to her nostrils as she climbed on top of the seat.
The bathroom door opened and shut several times. Two girls cried.
“Shut up!” Ava demanded. “You want the shooter to come in here and find us?”
Bang!
Another gunshot. It was even closer than the first one.
The crying girls both screamed.
Those idiots were going to not only get themselves killed, but everyone else in the bathroom—including Ava.
Rage ran through her. She dropped the red wad of toilet paper into the water and marched out of the stall.
The two screamers were clinging to each other, makeup smeared all the way down both of
their faces.
Ava clenched her fists and glared at them. “You have a death wish?”
Still sobbing, they both shook their heads.
“Then shut up! I don’t want to die today, either.”
They quieted, other than breathing heavily.
It was all Ava could hear.
Everything else was calm.
Too calm.
Terror squeezed every inch of her. Ava’s pulse drummed in her ears as she creeped toward the door. Her hand seemed to act on its own as she reached for the handle.
One of the girls behind her let out another cry.
Ava spun around and glowered at her. “Get ahold of yourself!”
She shut her mouth and buried her face against her friend’s shoulder.
Ava turned back around and pulled the door open slightly. Other than the abandoned items, the hall was empty.
“Is he out there?” whispered one of the criers.
Ava shook her head and opened the door a little wider. Everything was still silent. Even the two girls who were huddled behind her.
She pulled on the door until she was able to fit her head through.
Footsteps sounded from the hallway. One heavy, plodding step after the next. They echoed in the empty corridor.
Ava turned toward the noise.
The man wore all black leathers and brandished a rifle. He also had two pistols attached to his belt.
He hadn’t seen her yet. Ava needed to step back into the bathroom. But something stopped her.
She knew the man.
His gaze locked on hers. “Ava.”
Her blood went cold.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
She swallowed. “Get away from me!”
He laughed, then aimed his weapon at her.
Ava ducked back in and pushed on the door. “Someone help me!”
The two girls scurried into a stall.
“Help, Ryker!” Ava cried.
The gunman pushed on the door.
Ryker ran out from the stall and shoved his shoulder against the door.
Ava had never been happier to see a linebacker in her life. But even with the two of them pushing on the door, it still moved in toward them.
“Ava, give up before your friends die!” shouted the gunman.
Ryker turned to her, wide-eyed. “You know him?”
Her stomach twisted in knots. She couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth.
“Give yourself up, and nobody else has to die!”
Ryker continued staring at her, his face paling. “Is he really going to kill us if you don’t go out there?”
Ava’s stomach lurched. Her nose throbbed. The bathroom spun around her.
“Ava…” Something tapped the door. It was probably the rifle.
Ryker stepped back. “Sorry.” He fled back to his stall.
The door burst open. Ava stumbled back. She tripped over her bag and clung to a sink to keep from falling.
Her mother’s ex-boyfriend entered the bathroom and knitted his brows together.
Ava’s knees shook as she stared at the gunman. “Wh-what are you d-doing here, Dave?”
His nostrils flared. “You won’t be the one asking questions.”
“Does this have to do with my mom?”
Dave stepped toward her and shoved the gun against her chest.
Ava screamed.
Terror
Captain Nick Fleshman slunk into his chair and rubbed his temples. He usually stayed out of the interrogation room, but the suspect had worn down his best guys. And now he’d worn out Nick, too. All he wanted to do was to go back home and climb into bed for a few hours. Or maybe he could at least take a long lunch.
Instead, all hell broke loose outside his office. People shouted and ran around in all directions.
Nick flew to his feet and flung his door open. “What’s going on?”
Foster turned to him, stopping in her tracks. Her face was noticeably pale. “There’s a gunman at the middle school.”
“What?” He leaned against the doorway, unable to breathe. It had to be a joke. Two of his three kids were at the middle school.
“There have been shots. It’s all hands on deck. Other precincts are coming in with us.”
Nick shook his head and took a deep breath. “Meet me at your cruiser.”
She nodded, then ran down the hallway, darting between other officers.
Nick ran around his office, grabbing everything he needed for an incident of this caliber. His mind raced. His hands shook.
Thank God he was on the force and could go inside the building. He couldn’t imagine being one of the parents forced to wait outside behind a yellow line.
Were Parker and Ava safe? Had everything he’d ever taught them stuck with them? They’d always thought he was crazy for drilling them on how to respond in an emergency, but he knew all too well the dangers of the world, even living in a fairly small community.
Nick hurried outside. Police cruisers were already fleeing the parking lot, sirens blazing. Foster pulled out of the parking spot before Nick had even closed his door.
“We’ll do everything we can,” she assured him.
Nick snapped his seatbelt into place. “Is Tinsley at school today?”
“No.” Foster turned on the lights and siren, then pulled onto the road. “She’s in therapy all morning.”
“At least that’s one less kid to worry about.”
“I can’t imagine what more trauma would do to her. She's barely making progress as it is."
"Right, sorry. I wasn't thinking about that."
The girl had been saved after a shootout—her mother had been a dangerous kidnapper and her father a criminal, now both dead. Tinsley would only talk to Officer Foster, and afterward she’d been kind enough to take the girl in and work with her.
“No, it’s okay.” Foster honked at a station wagon that didn’t get out of their way fast enough, then went around into the other lane. “There’s a lot going on, and your kids…” Her voice trailed off.
“Yeah.” Nick took a deep breath. “I just hope no kids were hurt. None of them deserves to deal with this.”
The school came into view, and it was a mess. Fire trucks, ambulances, and police were there. Frantic parents swarmed the area, not that Nick could blame them. But it was going to make it all that much harder to process the scene—which would be a nightmare without all the added people.
He radioed in that they were there. The only update they received was that the shooter was still on the loose. No ID on the suspect. It could be anyone.
He and Foster exchanged a glance before bursting out of the car and racing over to the scene. They weaved between crying and worried parents until they reached the yellow tape and went under it.
From where Nick stood, the middle school looked normal. Almost like it should on a regular school day. Except for the flashing lights from the emergency vehicles.
They both drew their weapons, then Nick reached for the door.
Inside was a completely different scene. Abandoned backpacks strewn across the hall. Several lockers wide open. Even a shoe lay in the corner by itself.
Nick shuddered. Where were all the kids? Where were his kids?
A deputy and a detective ran down the hall, all but ignoring Nick and Foster.
“Hey!” Nick called.
The deputy turned to them. “Just got word about bodies in the office. All adults.” He and the detective raced down the hallway.
Nick’s stomach tightened. He and Foster followed. Now that Nick’s two oldest kids were back in town and attending the school, he knew the way to the office without needing to follow anyone.
The first thing he saw was the blood spatter on the windows.
On the radio, he heard news of kids hiding in the cafeteria.
Nick turned to Foster. “Let’s go.”
Without a word, they spun around and raced in the other direction. They ran into other first responders
heading there.
“Where are all the kids?” Nick demanded.
“We’ve directed them to the back to be checked out by the medics. Officers are there to get their statements.”
“Still no suspect?”
He shook his head.
“Kid? Adult? Does anyone know?”
“Not yet, but with all the kids we’re processing, it shouldn’t be long.”
They rounded a corner. Wailing sounded from the cafeteria.
Nick prepared himself for the worst.
What he saw was just a roomful of terrorized kids. No blood, no physical injuries. No gunman.
They split up and helped the kids into the hallway, toward the medics outside. Neither Parker nor Ava were in there. He couldn’t see them outside with the medics, either.
He and Foster headed inside to search the rest of the building. It could take all day with so many classrooms, closets, and other places to hide.
His cell phone hadn’t stopped going off in his pocket. Everyone he knew probably wanted to know if their kids were safe. He had the same question about his own children, and being police captain didn’t bring him answers any faster than it did the regular citizens. It just meant he didn’t have to stand outside looking in.
The radio went off—it hadn’t stopped—but this time it was different.
A bomb threat had been called in.
The caller claimed to be the shooter, and that he had a hostage.
Nick turned to Foster. “I’m going to keep looking for kids. They're probably hiding everywhere, scared out of their minds.”
She nodded. “I’m not leaving until everyone living is outside.”
“Let’s comb through this place, but don’t believe for a moment that the gunman actually left.”
Frantic
Alex Mercer stared at the news on his phone. Someone was firing a gun at the middle school?
His bedroom spun around him, and he clenched the blankets with his free hand while scrolling for more information.
But there was nothing. A shooter at Ariana’s school.
Hadn’t their family been through enough? Ariana had, and she was only twelve. She had already survived an abduction with a madman a year and a half before.
Against All Odds Page 1