One Breath Away

by Heather Gudenkauf

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “We’re going to hide you in there,” I tell her. She looks at me doubtfully. “Listen, if he opens up that door and is pointing a gun, you’re going to want to be up here.” She nods and I start unscrewing the bolt again with the scissor tip. The bolts loosen more easily than I thought they would and in just a few minutes I have all four unscrewed. “I’m going to pull the cover off the vent and hand it to you. You think you can grab it from me?” I ask.

  She nods and I hand her the vent cover. “Climb up here with me, Lucy.” She looks at me doubtfully but carefully uses each shelf as a stepping-stone until she is standing next to me. “I’ll give you a boost in and, whatever you do, don’t come out until I tell you to.”

  “You’re not coming in, too?” she asks. “Please come with me,” she begs.

  “We both won’t fit,” I tell her. “You’ll be safe, I promise. He won’t waste time looking up here for you.” Lucy gives me a long, sad look, but does as I ask and pulls herself into the dark, dusty vent until I can only see the bottom of her tennis shoes. “I won’t put the cover on, Lucy. I’ll just move this stack of papers in front so he won’t see you, okay?”

  “Okay,” comes her scared voice.

  “Remember, stay put until you know it’s safe.” I push a pile of colorful construction paper in front of the open vent. I climb down, trying to listen to what is going on in the classroom. It’s quiet. Too quiet. Somehow I have to get to P.J. I twist the knob and throw my body against the door and the chair moves just a bit.

  From above me in the vent, Lucy is calling, “What’s happening?”

  “It’s okay, don’t worry,” I tell her, lying flat on the floor to peek beneath the narrow opening at the bottom. I can’t really see anything, just the chair legs. I look around the closet. There has to be something I can use to get out of here. In the corner I see a long, thin, wooden meter stick and grab it. Sliding the stick beneath the door, I try to shove it against one of the chair legs. The chair slides forward, just a little bit, away from the door. I do the same to the other leg and it moves, just a centimeter. Using the stick and going back and forth I shove at the legs until I see the chair nearly tip over but then land upright, just a few inches away from the door. Carefully I try the knob; it turns and the door bumps into the chair, but it isn’t blocked anymore. All I have to do is push it all the way open and I’ll be out of the closet and back in the classroom with P.J.

  Chapter 107:

  Will

  “Don’t move,” came the voice from behind Will. “Drop the gun, put your hands over your head and turn around slowly.”

  “I’m just trying to find my grandkids,” Will explained, but he did as he was told.

  “Jesus,” the officer said once he could clearly see Will’s face. “Mr. Thwaite, what the hell are you doing?” It was Kevin Jarrow, one of the part-time officers on the Broken Branch police force. Will went to lower his hands but Jarrow kept his gun aimed at him. “Keep your hands up,” he ordered.

  “I’m just trying to find P.J. and Augie,” Will tried to explain. “Augie called my daughter from inside of the school. She heard a gun go off.” Will looked at Jarrow imploringly. “I couldn’t stand it—I had to find out what was going on.”

  “That’s exactly what we’re trying to do and we don’t need any interference. Jesus, I could have shot you.” Jarrow bent over and picked up Will’s shotgun from the ground, emptied the barrel of bullets and dropped them into his pocket.

  “Really, Kevin, I meant no harm. But I have to get my grandchildren out of that school,” Will said, allowing Officer Jarrow to pat him down. Satisfied that he didn’t have any other weapons, Jarrow led him back to a squad car, settled him into the backseat and told him to stay put. “I don’t want to cuff you, Mr. Thwaite, but I will. I need to focus my attention on the school and can’t waste my time babysitting you, got it?” he said severely.

  Will nodded miserably. “I’m sorry.”

  Jarrow softened his voice. “Just stay out of trouble. We’re doing all we can to get everyone out of the school safely.” He soundly shut the car door and left Will sitting alone, helplessly trying to look out windows that were thickly covered with snow, blocking his view of the school.

  Will’s phone vibrated. Seeing that it was Marlys, he was tempted to ignore the call, but knew that he couldn’t do that to his wife. She was just as scared and starved for news as he was. He just didn’t know how he was going to tell her that he had nearly been arrested for trying to break into the school with a shotgun and had no information on her grandchildren. “Hello,” he said, trying to infuse confidence into his voice.

  “Dad?” came a tearful voice, and Will’s stomach plummeted. “Please tell me Augie and P.J. are okay.”

  Chapter 108:

  Mrs. Oliver

  Mrs. Oliver pulled the heavy stapler slowly toward her, its heft a comfort beneath her hand. This was her last chance, she figured. If she could distract him just for a second, she knew that Officer Barrett would be able to reach her gun and put an end to this terrible day, maybe even put an end to this terrible man.

  With difficulty Mrs. Oliver raised herself first on her elbows, then her knees. Her first thought was to swing the stapler as hard as she could to knock the gun from his hand, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength to disarm him.

  “Stuart,” Officer Barrett pleaded, “let P.J. go. You don’t have to kill innocent people to get what you want. You want to commit suicide? Just point the gun at your own head. You don’t need me to shoot you.”

  It happened so quickly, Mrs. Oliver didn’t even have time to flinch. The man turned and without hesitation pulled the trigger. The stapler dropped from her fingers and she was thrown backward from the impact. Sprawled out on her back, Mrs. Oliver looked down curiously at her hand, which had suddenly become useless, and at the stream of blood pumping from her arm. Just as quickly, the man turned away from her and aimed the gun at P.J.’s head. “No,” she tried to shout, but her mouth had finally stopped working, her unhinged jaw frozen in place. She closed her eyes against the impending gunshot. She was so sorry and her only comfort was that she would be there, in death, to guide the children into the light or wherever it was they were going to go.

  The sound wasn’t as loud as she thought it would be, but muffled and far-off sounding. She hoped, rather absurdly, that maybe this meant that the gunshot wouldn’t have hurt so much for P.J. as it did for her.

  Chapter 109:

  Augie

  I trip as I push open the door and as I’m falling I see the man holding a gun to P.J.’s head. I try to call out to him, but my voice catches in my throat as I fall to the floor. I hear Lucy’s screams echoing from out of the vent. The man turns and points the gun toward me and I see the surprise on his face. I cover my head with my hands and the sound of another gunshot explodes in my ears. Suddenly I can’t seem to hear anything but the ringing in my ears and when I dare to look around for P.J. all I can see is blood everywhere.

  Chapter 110:

  Holly

  I’ve calmed down enough for the nurses to leave me alone and I finally convinced my mother to give me her phone. “Dad?” I say again, and at his silence I know things are anything but okay. “Please,” I beg.

  My father clears his voice before speaking. “I don’t know anything else, Holly. I’ve tried to find out exactly what’s going on, but no one’s telling me anything. I’m so sorry.” I crumple as his voice cracks.

  There are no words spoken as we both cry for a minute. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my father cry before, never heard him sound so helpless. “Tell me about them,” I finally whisper. “Tell me what I’ve missed.”

  My father sniffles a few times and when he speaks his voice is thick and filled with emotion. “Oh, Hol, you’ve got the best kids,
” he begins, and I lean back into my pillow and nod into the phone as he talks. Yes, I do, I think. I really do.

  Chapter 111:

  Meg

  The second that Stuart turns away from me, I reach into my holster to pull out my Glock. I see Maria’s teacher fly backward as a bullet rips through her shoulder. By the time Stuart turns back toward P.J., I’m shouting for the kids to get down and P.J. instantly drops to the floor and scurries behind the teacher’s desk. A noise comes from behind Stuart and for a brief instant Stuart pauses; his head turns toward the sound and Augie Baker stumbles from the closet. Stuart has the girl in his crosshairs and without hesitation we both take aim and pull our triggers.

  Chapter 112:

  Will

  “You should have seen P.J.’s eyes when he saw the calf drop,” Will told Holly while he sat in the back of the locked squad car, chuckling at the memory. “That kid could easily be a large-animal vet.”

  “Or a farmer,” Holly said softly.

  “Could be,” Will agreed, unable to conceal the pleasure in his voice at the idea of P.J. raising cattle one day. “And that Augie,” Will went on. “Hasn’t eaten one bite of meat since she came here. But smart as a whip. Her teacher told me last week he’s never seen a more talented writer than Augie.”

  “Really?” Holly asked. “He said that?”

  “He sure…” Will paused. “Wait a sec, Hol. Something’s happening.”

  “Don’t hang up, please don’t hang up,” Holly begged. “Tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure, I can’t tell. Hold on.” Will pounded on the window, hoping to knock snow from the glass so he could see.

  “What’s going on?” He heard Holly crying through the phone. “Please, Dad, tell me what’s happening,” she whimpered.

  The snow that clung to the window fell away at his pounding and he could see a flurry of activity at the front of the school. Police officers racing into the school with guns drawn. “Dear God,” Will whispered.

  “Dad!” Holly shouted. “Dad, please!”

  Will raised the phone back to his face. “It’s nothing, Holly. False alarm.” There was silence except for Holly’s soft sobs. “Yeah, and Mr. Ellery said Augie should be in advanced placement classes when she gets to high school,” Will went on calmly as a stretcher carrying Evelyn Oliver emerged from the building. “Plus, I was thinking, maybe if you’d like to spend some time here this summer, P.J. might like to show a calf at the county fair. He’s got a doozy picked out. A beaut of a Hereford.”

  Holly sniffed. “Maybe. I think P.J. would really like that.”

  “Yeah, I think so, too,” Will said as two children stepped out of the school into the gray dusk. Not P.J. He held his breath. “I think that Augie would have fun at the fair, too. Maybe she’d like to raise some rabbits.” The door opened again and three police officers appeared. A struggling figure squirmed in their grasps.

  “P.J.,” Will breathed with relief. “It’s P.J.”

  “Thank God.” Holly wept. Then, after a moment, “Where’s Augie?”

  Chapter 113:

  Augie

  I touch my face and when I look at my fingers they are covered with blood. A lot of blood, but I don’t feel any pain. I’ve heard of that happening, it’s the shock. I wonder if I’m going to die. I squeeze my eyes shut and think of my mom. She’s going to be so sad. She won’t have anyone left except my grandparents and suddenly I hope more than anything that she forgives my grandpa. Then someone is at my side and I decide I’m not going to die quietly. I start kicking and screaming. “It’s okay, it’s okay!” a man shouts. “I’m the police!” I stop moving and yelling and dare to open my eyes. A policeman with the biggest mustache I’ve ever seen is standing over the top of us. “It’s all over now. You’re safe. Stay down. We want to check you over, okay?”

  I ignore him and jump to my feet. “P.J.?” I can hardly say his name, I’m so dizzy. I don’t see him anywhere. The officer holds on to my arm, trying to keep me from falling over.

  “P.J.’s safe, he’s already out of the building. We’ll take you right to him once we check you over. Now lie back down.”

  I look around the classroom. There is blood everywhere. “No need to look at that, now,” the policeman says, trying to block my view. I can’t help it; I sit right down again on my butt and start to cry. Hard.

  Chapter 114:

  Will

  Will watched helplessly through the squad car window as P.J. continued to fight the officers as they led him out of the school. “Holly, let me call you back,” he told his daughter.

  “Don’t you dare hang up, Dad,” Holly cried. “If you ever loved me, you will not hang up that phone.”

  Will blinked in surprise. He never once believed that his daughter doubted his love for her. It was always the other way around. Will never could quite figure out what he needed to do to garner his daughter’s respect, her love. “I won’t hang up, Hol,” he promised. “Hang on, I’m going to set the phone down on the seat, see if I can get someone’s attention.” Will laid down the phone carefully and once again began to pound on the squad car window. “Hey,” he yelled at a sheriff’s deputy who was passing by. “That’s my grandson!” The deputy looked at him quizzically. “My grandson,” Will repeated, pointing at P.J., who was still trying to get back into the school.

  The deputy consulted with Officer Jarrow, who came over and released Will from the locked car. “P.J.” Will rushed over to his grandson, who buried his face in his grandfather’s stomach. “P.J.’s okay,” Will told Holly. “He’s right here.”

  “Thank God,” Holly cried. “Can I talk to him?” Will passed the phone to P.J. and grabbed the arm of an officer who was hurrying by.

  “I’m looking for my granddaughter, can you help me?”

  “Sorry, sir.” The officer shook his head. “We’ve got hundreds of kids to reunite with their folks. Just be patient.”

  Over the officer’s shoulder Will saw the front door of the school open once again and Augie’s crimson head and tearstained face appeared. A small, equally frightened-looking girl was at her side. Will’s heart clenched when he saw the bloody cloth pressed to her head, the smears of blood on her face, hands and clothes. Augie’s frantic eyes settled on her grandfather and then on P.J.

  Will reached for the phone in P.J.’s hand and in a trembling voice spoke to his daughter. “Augie’s okay, Hol. She’s right here with us.”

  Will reached out for his granddaughter. “It’s okay, Augie,” he said gently, pulling her into his arms. “It’s time to get you home.”

  Chapter 115:

  Meg

  Thank God Stuart was never much of a hunter. He missed Augie, but the shot hit the floor, sending sharp fragments into her face. She needed a few stitches but was just fine. Though I wouldn’t recommend it, the fact that Augie finagled her way out of the closet distracted Stuart just enough that I could take him down. My shots were better, though not by much. My first shot took his left ear off and my second hit him in the ribs. Not enough to kill him, but the way he was crying and writhing around I knew it hurt like hell. Served him right.

  In my mind there were many heroes that day and I wasn’t one of them. The students in Mrs. Oliver’s classroom showed more bravery than any child should ever have to. Augie Baker was determined to get to her brother despite placing herself in great danger. She also had the presence of mind to get the little girl who was locked in the closet with her up and into the vent in order to keep her safe. Except for the fact that she was terrible at following orders, Augie would make a great police officer one day. But who am I to give lectures about following orders.

  It took three officers to get P. J. Thwaite out of the classroom, down the steps and out of the school. He kept hollering for his sister, but we had to assess her injuries be
fore we moved her. No matter that the officers promised him that someone would bring her out soon, he still carried on. It was a great relief to see both Augie and P.J. reunited with their grandfather. I even passed Twinkie, the Craggs’ dog, who had been camping out in the backseat of my cruiser, off to Mr. Thwaite. He would get her to the Cragg girls. A small consolation after the suicide of their father, but a comfort.

  Mrs. Oliver’s injuries were much more severe and by the time the EMTs got to her, she had lost a lot of blood and her breathing was shallow. I could tell just by looking at her pale face that it would be a miracle if she survived.

  The eighth-grade teacher, Jason Ellery, was found in a janitor’s closet with a large gash in his head, and the maintenance man, Harlan Jones, was found tied up in the boiler room. There were a lot of traumatized kids, but except for Evelyn Oliver, no one else was seriously injured.

  Tim, hearing about the lockdown on the news, told his mother and Maria that he was called into work so as not to worry them. Instead, ignoring the abysmal road conditions, made his way to Broken Branch to see what was going on at the school and to see if he could be of help to the other emergency workers when his car slid on the ice and flipped into a ditch. Thankfully, Will Thwaite and Daniel Tucker came upon the accident, finding Tim. He spent a few days at the hospital over in Conway, has a few broken bones and a concussion, but he’s going to be okay. He’s going to stay with me and Maria until he’s back on his feet again.

  Even though we were confident that Stuart was working alone, it took hours to sweep the building to make sure no other gunmen were present and that all the kids and staff were accounted for. By the time Stuart’s gunshot wounds were treated and he was transferred to the county jail, we had learned a lot more about his very rapid downward spiral. Stuart, in the end, turned out to be a cheater, a liar and a murderer. Boy, can I pick ’em. I’ll never know if Stuart purposely targeted me in order to get inside information on the Merritt rape case and to get access to Jamie Crosby, but it wouldn’t surprise me. After reading the article he wrote chronicling the rape and talking to Jamie, it was clear that the story was wrought with inaccuracies and downright lies. I made a few phone calls and it came to light that many of Stuart’s stories, after very close scrutiny, were nothing more than the products of his imagination and ambition. Case in point was the article he wrote as a result of the time he was supposedly embedded with the Iowa Army National Guard Unit. When asked, no one could actually verify that he was where he said he was and no one could recall the supposed forbidden love affair between Specialist Rory Denison and the young Afghani girl. In fact, there was no evidence, anywhere, that proved there was a young woman.