I see Agent Johnson running over to a small crowd of people nearby, waving at them wildly and imploring them to get back. Agent Wallis takes his time standing up, and looks a little concussed. He would’ve been standing closer to the blast than the rest of us, so he probably caught more of it.
I know what that feels like…
“What the hell’s happening?” shouts Chambers. “Where is this guy?”
I shrug. “I have no idea!” I shout back.
A second explosion sounds out, further away than the first. We all half-duck again before realizing it isn’t nearby.
But it must be…
I look up, trying to see the tops of the buildings in the mid-distance in the vain hope of seeing a small figure looking down at us or something, but instead I see the chopper that's been hovering above us spinning out of control and plummeting quickly toward us in flames.
Straight for the bus.
“Oh, shit!” I yell.
Without thinking, and before anyone else can react, I race over to the school bus and yank the doors open, no longer caring about the initial bomb threat. The way I see it, if he was going to detonate the bomb under the bus, he would’ve done it already.
I climb on board and look at the sea of shocked and scared children. I have no idea what to do, and for a valuable second, I freeze completely as I gaze down the bus and see nothing but small faces, mouths hanging open in unimaginable horror.
Then my brain resumes normal service.
“Everyone, I need you to listen carefully and do exactly as I say. I want you all to make your way to the front of the bus as quickly as you can and jump off, okay? Single file, right now. Once you’re off, you have to run as fast as you can and get as far away from this bus as possible.”
I clap my hands together to speed them along.
“Come on,” I said. “Now!”
They don’t need telling twice. A stampede of small feet run to the front of the bus and jump down to the parking lot. I look for the teachers in the crowd.
“Hit the ground running and get them as far away from here as you can,” I yell. “You’ve got less than ten seconds!”
I stand watching as the last of the kids escape the bus. The last one jumps off and starts running, but loses their balance and falls forward on their face. It’s a little girl, probably about seven years old. She has pigtails in her hair…
I look at her lying on the floor, crying and screaming, and I think of my own daughter, Maria. She was roughly the same age when she was taken from me. Everything stops and I feel my heart breaking all over again.
I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose another little girl…
I jump off and rush to her, scooping her up in my arms and run as fast as I can. A couple of seconds later and I hear the flaming chopper hit the bus. The impact is deafening, and the explosion it causes knocks me off my feet. I’d managed to get maybe thirty feet from the bus, but the blast hits me like a freight train and I’m thrown forward. Instinctively, I throw the little girl out in front of me — I’ll crush her if I land on top of her. It’ll hurt her, but it’s better than the alternative and I’m sure she’ll forgive me.
I hit the ground hard, landing face down. My head smacks against the concrete. As my skull bounces up again, I catch sight of the little girl landing some feet in front of me, seemingly safe from the blast.
Everything goes quiet. People’s screams are reduced to a small echo, drowned out by the loud, constant ringing in my ears. My body feels hot and my eyes are stinging. Disoriented, I roll over on my back and look down my body.
Holy shit, I’m on fire!
I quickly roll over and over, mindlessly slapping at the flames to put them out. People are surrounding me that I don’t recognize. They cover me in a blanket and after a minute help me to my feet.
My eyes are sore and my vision’s blurring…
I wipe my hand across my face. It feels wet and I look down to see it covered in blood.
The world around me keeps fading to black and back again in slow motion. I look around and see blurry outlines of people running toward a body on the floor a few feet away, then toward me…
I’m lying on the ground again. I open my eyes. I must’ve blacked out. I struggle to push myself up on all fours, but Johnson and Chambers appear next to me and help me. They lift my arms around their necks and help me walk away. They’re saying something, but I can’t make out what.
I stumble and they guide me to the ground. I’m on a grass verge off the right, away from the carnage and chaos behind me. I wipe my eyes again and look over to the entrance of the Academy. On my left is a burning wreck that was once a SWAT van. Across the front of the building, whoever isn’t dead or injured are running and screaming trying to get away, but ultimately falling over each other. Just to the right of that is what’s left of the school bus, and the remains of a chopper sticking out of it on fire.
Sweet Jesus… this is insane!
I look up next to me and see Chambers talking hurriedly into her phone. Johnson’s kneeling beside me with his hand on my shoulder. I can’t see where Wallis has gone. He’s probably helping anyone who’s injured or something.
Johnson is saying something to me and nodding, but I have no idea what — his voice sounds hollow, drowned out by a loud ringing. Looking at his face, I think he seems positive…
My head starts to spin, and I lie back, preparing for the world to turn black once again. In my mind, all I can see is an image of The Shark looking on, laughing. I can’t believe he would endanger the lives of so many innocent people — innocent children — just to get to me.
This has to stop. It’s just too much. I’ve always said my anger is kept behind a closed door. Every now and then, someone will try to push that door open, and they never like what awaits them on the other side. This guy just kicked my door off its hinges… He has no idea what’s coming for him — what I’m prepared to do to put a stop to this. The scary thing is, as I close my eyes and feel the world slipping away from me once more, neither do I.
“He’s awake,” says the voice, sounding miles away. “Go and tell Agent Chambers.”
I open my eyes, blinking a few times to clear the fog. I look to my right and see Agent Wallis standing next to me. He isn’t smiling, but he seems glad I’m not dead, which is something I suppose.
I look around. I’m in a hospital room, lying in bed hooked up to a heart monitor. The door on the right is open. I look briefly out the window on the left; it’s dark outside. I turn back to Agent Wallis.
“Where am I?” I ask.
“You’re in San Francisco General Hospital,” he replies. “You’ve been here just over four hours.”
My head’s killing me. I try to turn on my side, but all the wires stuck to my chest restrict my movement. I look at the machine, which is beeping steadily. That’s good — I’m definitely not dead… first bit of good news I’ve had all day.
“Christ. What the hell happened back there?” I ask, remembering the scene outside the Academy. “Is everyone alright?”
“The kids are safe, thanks to you. I don’t know if you’re a hero or just plain stupid, but you were on that bus before any of us even registered that the chopper had exploded. That was some good work, Adrian… Thank you.”
“I’m just glad they’re alright. What about the SWAT guys?”
Wallis purses his lips together and shakes his head solemnly. “All dead,” he says. “I’ve no idea how the sonofabitch managed to rig a bomb to a fucking SWAT truck…”
“Shit. I’m sorry, man.”
“None of us saw it coming. We were too focused on the school bus.”
His voice trails off. I look at him. He’s maybe six months into being a fully trained agent, but nothing you do at Quantico can prepare you for a day like he's just had. He’s probably still in shock.