The school alarms were going off; all of them. Smoke alarms, fire alarms, emergency alert alarms… if there was a noise that the school’s PA system could make, it was making it. The smoke in the hallways was thick; so thick in some places that you couldn’t see more than a couple feet. The screams of the injured and the scared competed with the noise of the alarms to see which could be louder and (unfortunately) more distracting.
The school was shaped like a big U with smaller fingers sticking out each side of the uprights. In the center was a large courtyard with a garden at the open end. The garden was large and dense enough that it blocked off easy view of the back parking lot from the courtyard. The courtyard had flowering plants and picnic tables, most with umbrellas over them. There was a large central gazebo with four picnic tables comfortably spaced under it.
That was the scene at the city’s northern most high school (although not called “Northern,” but instead named after a World War II general) before any member of the squad got on scene. On this bright, cool, sunny, Saturday morning, the school should have been mostly empty, except for a few sports teams practicing. Instead, for whatever reason, there were reportedly several hundred people in the school. It seemed that not only was every sport in season practicing but all the clubs and the JROTC unit had events going on as well.
When the shooting started, someone at the school must have called in with some good information and in a relatively calm manner. When the dispatcher put the initial call out, it contained a decent amount of intelligence. “All units, all units: shots fired reported at the northern high school. Wounded reported. All doors but the main entrance are reported locked. Some rooms on lock down. Fire and EMS also being deployed. More as it comes in.”
Eddie answered up first. “1094, en route.”
His call out was immediately followed by the rest of the squad. It was a good thing that the dispatcher’s console showed the radio and car identification numbers as the officers keyed up, because they were all trying to answer at the same time. “1097, 1096, 1098, 1095.” In Unit 1097, Dave was still riding by himself because Sam was on light duty. His shoulder had another ten days, at least, before the doctor would clear him to go back to full duty – and that was pushing things.
Off duty units also keyed up as responding. Some of them listened to scanners. Some of them were on their way into or away from headquarters so they had their radio on. “Unit 1094,” said Eddie, the squad sergeant, “have all off duty units respond to the north east corner of the parking lot prior to deploying into the school. We need to insure positive identification and accountability.” The dispatcher repeated his message. A bunch of radios being keyed up replied. It was an officer’s way of acknowledging the message without eating up valuable radio time.
Sirens could be heard for several blocks around the school. As fast as the officers were responding, when they got close they found that the highway administration had already closed down intersections to all traffic going to the school. The only vehicles getting through were emergency vehicles and vehicles driven by those with public safety identification: some officers, some firemen, some EMTs.
JP had been at Max’s place, spending the day waiting for him to get home.
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