The odor of sun-heated cement assaulted her nostrils.
Maura sucked in a deep breath and blew at tendrils of sweat-
dampened hair that escaped her headband and fell into her
eyes. Without slowing her pace she caught the hem of her
T-shirt and wiped her damp face.
A sudden explosion shattered the early morning silence.
Frozen in mid-stride, Maura watched a man ahead of her
twist awkwardly and crumple to the ground, his blood oozing
onto the walkway, filling cracks and staining the grass.
A second burst of gunfire jerked her back to life. Her brain
registered the chaotic disorder that followed: screams, shouts,
more gunshots. The few people on campus scattered in erratic
flight.
She thought she screamed, too, but didn't recognize her
own voice in the hysterical cries that pierced her ears. Her
shocked mind focused on the muggy humidity that snatched
at her breath and imprisoned it in her throat.
Looking up instinctively at the university tower, she saw
the man with the rifle. The image fixed itself indelibly in
her memory. Bullets thudded into the ground at her feet. She
fled, running so hard a needle of pain stabbed her side. The
sensation that she moved in slow motion made it all seem
like a dream. This couldn't be happening. She had waited
too long for tomorrow--the most important day of her life.
She couldn't die today, not like this.
The campus area quickly cleared except for the wounded,
and an unnatural silence hovered in the air. A Jeep Cherokee
pulled into a parking slot. Maura raced toward it. The driver,
focusing his attention on papers he held, got out of the car
and stepped up on the curb. He walked onto the sunlit grass
of the campus.
Maura hurdled a low bush and threw herself against him.
He exhaled in a loud gasp and fell backward under fragrant
white-blossomed azalea bushes.
. Startled brown eyes behind gold-framed glasses reflected
his surprise. He rubbed the shoulder that had taken most of the
impact of the fall.
Maura sprawled on top of him. She quickly rolled off, her
embarrassment struggling with her fear. "Lie still," she pleaded.
"Don't move."
Bullets whined through the hot air. He stiffened, alert now.
"Are those gunshots?"
She nodded. "A sniper."
"Sniper?" He repeated the word slowly, as though he
must test the sound of it before his brain could assimilate it.
He lay beside her under the covering foliage, his mouth grim.
A muscle in his jaw tightened.
He lay so close to her his lips inadvertently brushed her
cheek and she clung to him, comforted by his nearness, afraid
she might splinter into fragments if he suddenly moved away.
Sirens split the air, screaming in from all directions. Police,
rescue units, and media vehicles converged on the scene.
"Where is the sniper?" he asked.
"He's on the tower of the administration building. I ran..."
she paused to catch her breath. "...looking for a place to
hide when I saw you get out of your car. I knew you had no
idea what was happening."
"You might have made it to a safer spot, if you hadn't..."
"No. I ran for the nearest cover."
He lifted his head slightly above the foliage, his gaze
searching the tower. A hail of bullets slammed into the ground
near them.
"Stay down," she pleaded. "Don't give him a target."
He ducked beneath the bush again.
With his body wedged against hers she felt less distressed,
though her legs, bent in an awkward position, began to grow
numb. "Why won't the police do something?"
"I'm sure they will as soon as they get a fix on his exact
location and determine the range of his weapon."
She parted the leaves of the bush which hid them. In
her line of vision, a patrol car door opened and an officer
got out. Bullets sprayed the area. The awful sound of metal
striking metal sent shivers through her. She stared at the
officer who clutched at his bloody neck and fell against the
side of the vehicle, then slid out of sight.
Someone screamed.
Maura's stunned gaze followed the long line of official
vehicles as they moved farther down the street. Medics,
reporters, and photographers filled an area exposed to
her view but out of sight of the sniper. A police helicopter,
marked SWAT, hovered overhead, soon joined by a second
one carrying a television station logo.
"Are you all right?" the man asked.
"My hands won't stop shaking. Other than that, I guess
so. What about you?"
"As well as can be expected."
She pressed her fingertips to her mouth to still their
trembling. "Can we make it to your car, do you think?"
"I don't want to try. Those medics have come for the
injured officer behind a shield. We'd have no protection
once we left the azalea garden."
Maura parted the green branches again and watched
ambulance attendants rescue the downed policeman.
Bullets pinged into the emergency vehicle as it pulled
away from the curb. Sirens wailed and throbbed and left
her ears ringing.
Her breath escaped in a spasm of little shudders. The
scent of the blossoms had become too cloying, and her
stomach churned. His hand pressed hers. She noticed
beads of sweat dampening his brow. She wiped her own
wet face on her sleeve. "How long do you think we'll have
to stay here like this?"
"Shouldn't be too long. You probably saved my life.
Thanks."
Her quick, nervous laughter startled her. She ran her
tongue over her lips and confessed, "Mostly reflex action,
I'm afraid."
He chuckled. "Okay. Thanks for the reflex action."
Her faint smile melted into a frown. "My legs are
numb. I can't stay in this position much longer. What
are they doing? Can you see?"
"Not very well. I see the SWAT team swarming
over the roof of the lab. It won't take long for them to
get on top of the administration building. If the sniper
shows himself, it's all over."
A sudden burst of bullets ripped through the azaleas.
A loud thud, and a hiss like air rushing from a balloon,
ended with a whispered, "Oh." Maura clutched at the fire
in her flesh and stared at the now bloodstained white
blossoms that hadn't shielded them after all.
A quick protest burst from him, "No! You can't be
hit." His shock and outrage had become evident in the
set of his mouth and in his narrowed eyes.
She gazed at him in confusion, feeling no pain,
not sure what had happened. Everything had turned
misty, as if the sun had unexpectedly hidden itself
behind a cloud.
He pulled the neck of her shirt away from the
wound to inspect the damage.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Don't be alarmed. You've been shot. It looks as
though the bullet passed through your shoulder. I
need to stop the bleeding. I'm a doctor. I'll try not to
hurt you."
She nodded and attempted a smile.
He folded his handkerchief into a pad and pressed
it to the wound. He placed her hands over it and said
softly, "I want you to hold this firmly in place to slow
the flow of blood. Can you do that?"
She nodded and whispered, "Yes."
He lifted her into his arms, his body shielding
hers, and quickly headed toward the end of the row
of bushes near the curb where ambulance attendants
could get to them with a 0minimum of danger to
themselves.
Bullets slammed into the grass around them and
dirt clods leapt into the air. Leaves and blossoms
exploded from the hedges, showering the ground. He
laid Maura under the covering foliage and shouted to get
attention. "We need help! Over here in the azalea garden."
An ambulance pulled to the curb near them.
Paramedics arrived behind the protective shield.
He got into the ambulance with her. His voice quietly
reassuring, he whispered in her ear, "Don't be afraid. You'll
be all right."
~*~
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