Gordon stared at the phone, its screen still lit in his trembling hand.
The echo of gunshots rang in his ears, long after the call had gone dead.
The officer standing across from him frowned.
"Detective… what was that?"
Before Gordon could form a reply, the office door burst open. Another officer rushed in, breathless.
"Detective, there's an active shootout at District 666 Middle School."
The color drained from Gordon's face. A cold realization settled deep in his gut, sharp and immediate.
He didn't say another word. He was already moving, shoving past the desk and out the door.
The two officers scrambled after him, calling his name, but Gordon was gone. He tore through the station, burst into his car, and slammed the door shut. Tires screamed as he pulled out onto the road.
He drove like a man possessed, weaving through traffic, barely aware of the city blurring past him. Then the mobile radio crackled to life.
