Somehow, Lydia’s brain gave her the information she needed to survive.
Run. Hide. Fight.
Mack’s impassioned words from what felt like so long ago echoed in her head.
As the sporadic bursts of gunfire and the constant screaming continued, Lydia grabbed for Marissa’s hand. “Come on!”
CHAPTER 18
Mack believed in few things beyond a shadow of a doubt. Following his instincts—believing in his gut feelings—was one of those things.
Right now his sixth sense was kicking in strong.
It had been for the entire last leg of the trip home. He couldn’t put his finger on what had him antsy and agitated. He also couldn’t ignore it any longer. The moment the transport hit the tarmac he had his cell out.
Powering it on, Mack stared at the screen, waiting for it to come to life. What he was looking for he couldn’t imagine, but he’d know it when he found it.
Finally, the phone connected him to the outside world, something he hadn’t been able to do during the past couple of weeks.
Nothing came up immediately. No texts. No phone messages.
There wasn’t a whole lot he could do right now anyway. Mack didn’t have time to investigate further at the moment. He had to unload from the transport, grab his bags, check in and stow his shit—all before he could leave.
The quicker he got it all done, the sooner he could satisfy this feeling of unrest. He’d call his dad. Hearing his father and Laurie and Lydia were all right would go a long way to helping to settle this restlessness inside him.
It had to be nothing. How much trouble could his family get into in the Virginia suburbs in the few weeks he’d been gone?
Had something happened with his old unit? That thought caused a rock to settle in his gut. If that were the case, there was nothing he could do from here to help, which only ramped up his agitation.
He’d just have to wait and see. With a sigh, Mack followed the rest of the guys.
Moving on autopilot, he went through the motions, queuing up with the others, following procedures his muscles remembered well even if his brain was distracted.
The bags were just being pulled out of the transport and tossed onto the tarmac for each guy to claim when Mack decided to check the cell he’d shoved in his pocket one more time.
This time there was one text message showing. It was from his dad. Mack hit to read the text.
Call when you can. Dad
The message didn’t seem incredibly urgent.
As itchy as he was to do as his father had asked, not to mention calling would do a lot to satisfy his curiosity, Mack saw his pack on the ground. He moved to grab it, promising himself he’d call as soon as he got his shit settled.
Time got away from him. It always did when there was a lot of procedural bullshit to deal with. It wasn’t until Mack was done on base and ready to get on his bike and head for home that he got around to pulling out his cell again.
Perched on the seat of the bike, he scrolled through the contacts list and finally hit to dial his father.
He answered quickly. “James. Where are you?”
“At base. Why?” The feeling of dread he’d managed to sideline while doing what he needed to hit him full force. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Liddy.”
For a second Mack feared he’d dump the bike as the world tilted.
“What about Lydia?”
“You haven’t seen the news?”
What the fu— Couldn’t the man just tell him what was wrong instead of playing guessing games?
Suddenly sick to his stomach, Mack swallowed. “No. I was in the air for most of the day. Dad, what happened?”
“There was a shooter at her college.”
Now he did fear he’d fall over as the blood drained from his head.
He remembered their conversation late that night. Her worst fear was an active shooter and it had happened at her own school.
More afraid than he’d been in recent memory, Mack drew in a breath and asked the question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “And Lydia? Is she—”
Christ. He couldn’t even finish the sentence. He gathered himself and tried again. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah.”
The relief was as overwhelming as the fear had been. Mack gave up trying to straddle the bike, even while not moving. He swung his leg over the seat and stood on two unsteady legs.
Pacing in a small circle, he asked, “Where is she now?”
“The hospital last I talked to her.”
“The hospital? And what do you mean, the last you talked to her? You’re not there with her? Is her mother at least there with her?”
“James, relax.”
What the hell? Mack grit his teeth. “Don’t tell me to relax—”
“She wasn’t hurt. Liddy’s fine. She got out. Her and her roommate both got out safely.”
Still, whether she was physically injured or not, Lydia would be traumatized after that experience.
Christ, an active shooter in her own school. Her family should be with her. This kind of thing could cause PTSD. It had effects on survivors others who hadn’t been through it couldn’t even begin to imagine.
He should be with her too and he would be, as soon as he confirmed where exactly she was and could get off the damn phone. “If she’s not hurt, why is she at the hospital?”
“Classes have been cancelled. She’s at the hospital with the other students having some sort of prayer rally or vigil or something while they’re waiting to hear about the injured.”
“And why aren’t you and her mother there with her?”
“She told us not to come. She said she was fine and just wanted to be with her friends right now. And that she’d be driving home tomorrow to spend the weekend with us. You should come too. You can see her then.”
Mack would be seeing her, but he sure as hell wasn’t waiting until tomorrow. “Text me Lydia’s cell phone number.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks. Look, I gotta go. Don’t forget to text that number and send me her address too, if you have it.”
“I will. So you think you can make it this weekend?”
“Probably.” Mack didn’t have time or patience for making brunch plans right now. He needed to see Lydia. Needed to see for himself she was fine.
“Please try.”
“We’ll see.” Barring getting called in, Mack planned on being wherever Lydia was.
If she was with their parents, so would he. If not, there wasn’t anything barring the risk of being AWOL that would keep him away from her—and maybe not even that.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Without waiting for a response, Mack hung up the call and then navigated directly to the map app on his phone. He punched in the name of the college and waited without a shred of patience left for the map to load.
While he was searching, the text from his father came through. He hit to call Lydia’s number, but it went right to voice mail.
Pocketing the panic, he reminded himself she was fine. She’d gotten out. She might have her phone off for the prayer vigil or whatever was happening at the hospital.
Another search brought up the nearest hospital to the campus. He had no doubt he’d find her one place or another.
Before he put the phone away, he did a search for William and Mary shooting. The horror of the headlines that filled the screen had him clenching his jaw.
He needed to be with her now. That was impossible, but he’d get to her within the hour, if he didn’t get pulled over for speeding.
At the moment, an hour seemed like forever.
CHAPTER 19
It was getting dark out and chilly. Not that it was that late. It just got dark early this time of year.
Lydia’s fingers were getting cramped and numb around the thick wax candle she clutched between her hands, but she barely noticed. After the shooting, her mind felt as numb as her body had become from standing outside the hospital.
Around her the crowd rustled. Some praying. Some singing. Some crying. She hadn’t cried yet.
She wondered at that. Shock, maybe?
It would probably hit her later when she was in her bed alone with nothing to do but think.
She’d survived. Marissa had too. And amazingly enough, Lydia didn’t know any of the dozen souls fighting for their lives inside this building.
Most were students, but one was a cafeteria employee. She’d recognized him in the pictures on the web. He’d been mopping up a spill as she’d walked by him today. He’d apologized for blocking her path. She’d smiled and told him it was all right. That she could walk around. No problem.
That man’s condition was critical. At least, that’s what the news was reporting. Lydia was happy she’d taken the time to smile at him today before his whole life had been altered forever.
Did someone ever fully recover from being shot and surviving it? Would she ever recover from just being in that room?
Suddenly, it felt as if she couldn’t stand another moment. She was literally swaying on her feet. If not for the press of the crowd surrounding her, she’d probably have fallen down already.
She bumped her shoulder against Marissa’s. “Would it be horrible if I left? I think I need to go home and lie down before I fall down.”
Marissa shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t be horrible at all. Half of these people here weren’t even on campus at the time. Most of them weren’t in The Caf. I think it’s understandable if we wanted to leave.”