For a few seconds, Melissa treasured the embrace. She had no children of her own, and never would. But, since James Nichols had come into her life, she had found herself changing in ways she would never have imagined. Her view of the world was still the same, at bottom, but it was so much less—brittle. After half a lifetime living among West Virginians, Melissa Mailey had finally adopted them for her own.
Melissa stroked Julie's hair. "Don't worry about Alex," she murmured. "I keep telling you—"
She broke off. Tensed. The sound of babbling voices—frightened voices—was coming from the corridor outside the classroom.
Julie heard also. She straightened and turned her head. "What's going on?"
James Nichols surged into the room. He gave Melissa a quick smile, but his eyes were focused on Julie.
"Can you handle a .30-06 semiautomatic?" he demanded. "We've got two of them, but they're the only rifles in the whole damned school."
Melissa gasped. So did Julie. Melissa's gasp came from shock. Julie's, from sheer outrage.
"Is that a joke? I can shoot anything!"
James Nichols was, by nature, a smiling man. It was one of the reasons Melissa loved him. But she had never seen such an incredible grin on his face. "Those poor bastards," he laughed. "Did they ever pick the wrong day to piss off pregnant women!"
* * *
The steel pillars holding up the weather awning in front of the school's main entrance were not really load-bearing structures. The bus knocked them aside like so many sticks. By the time Jeff slammed on the brakes and brought the bus to a halt, the awning had collapsed onto the bus' roof.
Jeff didn't bother removing the keys from the ignition. Even if they got into the bus, the Croats wouldn't know how to drive it. He hopped out and took a quick look at his handiwork. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to decide that the main entrance was almost completely blocked off.
Good enough. They'll pay hell, trying to charge through a school bus.
The bus gave a little lurch. The driver of the next bus wasn't taking any chances on leaving gaps. He had deliberately bumped his bus into the rear of the one Jeff had positioned in front of the door.
A moment later, the same bump was repeated. Repeated again. The drivers of the third and fourth buses were doing the same. Then the fifth driver, and the sixth.
But Jeff didn't wait to see the results. He plunged through the big doors of the entrance and raced toward the principal's office. Rebecca had set up her HQ there, despite the relatively cramped space, in order to take advantage of the communication facilities in the school's administration center.
When he charged into the office, Rebecca was talking on the telephone.
"One moment, Dan," she said calmly. Rebecca raised her head, eyes questioning.
"We're set!" said Jeff.
Rebecca nodded and resumed her conversation. "We have now blocked off the entire front of the school with a line of buses. We shall be doing the same with the rear entrances. The students and faculty in the technical center are moving equipment to block the entrance to their building. That will leave only the glassed-in walkway between the school itself and the technical center as an easy access route. We have no way of blocking that, but we will try to improvise obstructions on the inside."
She fell silent, listening to something the police chief was saying. Then: "No. We are evacuating the auditorium completely. We will collect as many students as possible in the classrooms on the second floor. But there is not enough space for all of them, so we will put the older students in the gymnasium."
Again, she fell silent for a few seconds. Then: "Not much, Dan. Two rifles. Eleven pistols and revolvers in the personal possession of teachers. And Jeff has his shotgun and—"
She gave him a questioning glance. Quickly, Jeff flashed his fingers. "He says he has fourteen rounds left."
She paused, listening to something Dan was saying. Jeff could hear Dan's loud voice coming over the telephone, ringing in her ear. Grarr! Grarr! Grarr!
Rebecca shrugged. "Yes, I know. It is a pitiful arsenal. A stupid oversight on our part. In the future, we shall certainly do otherwise. But we have nothing else at the moment, except"—her lips quirked—"a plentiful assortment of kitchen utensils and baseball bats."
Suddenly, Jeff saw Rebecca stiffen. "No! Dan—you cannot! They will certainly be attacking the town also. Until we know where the attack is concentrated, it would be pure folly for you to bring an expedition here. These are Croats, Dan. The best light cavalry in the imperial army. They will not line up for you neatly like a tercio. If they see you coming, they will set an ambush. They will swarm any caravan of vehicles on the open road. And you do not have any APCS. They are all with the army in Eisenach. Wheel-lock pistols are quite capable of butchering people trapped in an automobile. And if you emerge, you will be sabered and lanced. As long as we are behind walls—here as well as in town—we have a chance."