Raw Vengeance (The Rich Fordham Series) by Josh Handrich Page B

captain gave Rich the look of death, then joined an entourage of police and paramedics as they sped out the set of double doors pushing a stretcher with a black male teenager hooked up to an IV. A paramedic squatted over him, straddling his body as she did chest compressions, while another EMT held an oxygen mask over his face and squeezed an inflatable bag, forcing precious air into his lungs. The boy’s skin looked pasty and dry, and he made no movement.
    Seeing someone receive life-saving techniques would give anyone reason to pause and reflect. Rich went silent for the moment and let the camera and viewers take in the scene. Many reporters would barrage the EMTs and police with a line of questions and shove the camera and microphone in their faces. He knew instinctively that he must not interfere with their work. The emergency workers loaded the first boy into the back of the ambulance and drove off. The rule for paramedics and those in the field was to prioritize the victims. Treat the most injured first, followed by the less injured and so on.
    Rich looked into the camera with a despondent expression. “As you can see, paramedics have taken the first victim to the hospital, and as you just saw, the tragic scene continues to unfold. Emergency workers are trying diligently to give this boy another chance. We’re expecting another four to five kids to be wheeled out the door any moment now. We don’t know how critical the other injuries are, but we’ll do what we can to bring you the most up-to-date information. If, God forbid, any of the teens perish, we will bring the news to you after the authorities have notified the parents and released the information.”
    Medics pushed out four more stretchers; only one victim’s situation looked life threatening. A teenager of average height walked out with an overcoat draped over the length of his body and his hands cuffed behind his back. Two officers escorted the lone uninjured person to an awaiting ambulance.
    Rich gave the “cut” signal and ended the segment. He motioned for Gabe to follow him away from the school.
    The captain walked off, pulled out a walkie-talkie, and asked, “Status updates?”
    The voices on the other end said, one after the other, “Unit one secure; unit two secure; unit three secure…” until all twenty units concurred.
    “ Roger that. Prepare evacuation on my mark … and in three, two, one, evacuate, evacuate.”
    Rich and Gabe prepared themselves for the mass of students about to converge on the perimeter of the school. All at once, six officers, with one on each end, led the students out single-file. Students had their hands on the top of their heads for their own safety. For the most part, they took the trauma in stride, but a few had crimson faces and teary eyes. In less than ten minutes, the entire class of over two thousand students assembled into groups of fifty where teachers took roll call. Their backpacks stayed behind so police dogs could sniff out any extra weapons.
    “ How about we get the reaction of students?” Gabe suggested. Rich continued to give his side of the events as they walked and rolled video. He wanted to find an over-the-top, emotional girl for his segment. He spied a petite girl wearing pink flip-flops and gym shorts bawling her eyes out.
    “ Excuse me,” he said to the girl. “You in the pink—what’s your name?” Rich lowered the microphone so she could speak. “Why are you crying? Did you see anything?”
    “ Mmm-mmm,” she mumbled with her arms crossed over her chest. Her feelings got the best of her, and she cried into the chest of a friend standing nearby.
    Rich found another student more composed than the first and asked him, “Did you hear or see anything?”
    The boy’s voice quivered with nervousness as he spoke. “There were gunshots, at least ten to twenty. I lost count after five, but I know it was a lot. It happened before the lunch bell rang. I thought it was firecrackers at first