The class erupts. Chairs roll back, banging into the row behind them. Students surge toward the door.
“In the closet. Now!” I yell.
Students scramble to the middle row and start filing into the supply closet that doubles as a student safe room.
“Voss, guard door one. Mercer, door two,” I bark. “Phones on silent. Do not move until campus security clears the floor.”
Voss bolts, but Mercer fumbles the second door. Scarlett is already helping a girl trembling in the front row.
Our eyes meet as she’s heading into the closet. Good. That’s where she’s supposed to be.
Safe.
Every protocol says I should stay in that room. But I’m not just a teacher. I’m a doctor. And thesearen’t five-year-olds. They’re adults. They don’t need me to calm them down. I turn toward the hallway to see what I can do.
“Cormac—” Scarlett’s voice stops me in my tracks.
“Stay here, Scarlett,” I snap without looking back.
“Hell. No.” Her footsteps down the lecture hall steps raise my hackles.
Facing her rushing toward me, I hold up my hand. “Oh no, you don’t.”
Her wild eyes are locked on mine. “You’re not going out there alone.”
“I’m just going to see what’s happened to him.” I grip her arm to force her back to the closet.
“And then turn away?” She breaks the hold and puts her hair up in one of those ponytails. “Never worked the ED in a rough neighborhood, have you? Doctors need someone at their backs. That’s me for you. Let’s go.”
Every instinct says to get her as far from danger as possible. And she’s right. Cascadia wasn’t in a dangerous neighborhood, but I understand tactical positioning. Two men always go on a mission. One man alone is an easy target.
I grab her hand. “Come on,” I mutter.
Once the closet is sealed, I turn back to Mercer and Voss. “Do not open those doors for anyone but security.”
Then I break every rule in the book and breach the lockdown withmy wife.
Holding her hand, we slip out the side exit. The hallway is chaos. Students running every which way.
“Get off this floor and into a classroom! Now!” I roar.
They scatter past me and up the stairs.
Scarlett stays close to me, clasping my belt from behind. I’m fucking pissed that I’m not armed. I should have kept a knife on me.
We round the corner and hear a rough thud from inside Alderton’s office.
Slowly, I peek inside. Lamps overturned. Papers swept off his desk.
In the far corner, Alderton lies on the floor, his chest rising shallowly, shirt soaked red.
“Oh my God.” Scarlett pushes past me and drops to her knees beside him without hesitation.
I should pull her away, but we’re medics. Like me, she has an ingrained need to help. I don’t have to advise. She knows what to do. But I have to keep her safe, so I stand in front of her as a guard.
Scarlett’s already pressing her hands to Alderton’s abdomen, applying pressure.
“Checking his airway.” She’s pure triage instinct.