Twelve Years Ago
“One,” Gains whispered. Inhale. Exhale. The muzzle of his Glock glinted six inches from his face. A bead of sweat dropped into his eye. He blinked it away, watching the wall opposite him as bullets from the intersecting corridor pelted the surface.
“Two.” Inhale. Exhale. The drone of the alarm blaring from every school speaker compressed his eardrums, almost as much as the concussion of the offending gun. He turned his head to the right and made eye contact with his partner, Agent Stevens. Gains flicked two fingers. His gray-haired partner nodded.
“Three.” Gains took two giant steps into the center of the hall, turned and extended his gun back to the corner where he had been standing.
Inch. He moved a little, revealing more of the hall beyond.
Inch. Gunfire. A bullet struck the fully exposed wall next to him…only feet away.
Inch. A little more.
Gunfire. Another bullet.
Inch. The alarm. The sweat.
A man in a silver and black mask crouched near the exit. Gains sighted him down.
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