Free 30 Seconds by Chrys Fey Page B

for the shooters to come out. By then, it would be too late to help the officers inside.
    “We just got confirmation of the police officers who are inside the police station.” The footage went back to the newsroom where a man and woman sat behind a glossy table. “Dominique Anderson, Phillip Bane, David Briggs, Steven Corbin, Jonathon Dane, Vincent Evers, Thomas Farris, Blake Herro—”
    When she heard his name, the walls around her caved in, burying her alive. She couldn’t even hear the names of the other officers. All she could hear was his name over and over again in her head. She stamped her hand over her mouth to stop a cry from flying free.
    In thirty seconds, her life had flipped upside down.
    I didn’t confess my love to him to lose him now! I don’t want one night with him, I want hundreds. God, please protect him. Keep him safe. Bring him home to me!
    “We’re being told S.W.A.T. is moving in.”
    She hugged the remote to her chest when the live chopper feed came on and she saw a group of S.W.A.T approach the front door. They stood there, hunched behind their shields. Seconds later, they scrambled back to take cover. Then the front door blew up and they ran inside. The blaze of gunfire grew louder. She held her breath.
    “Please get Blake out safely, get them all out of there safely.” She couldn’t help but cry out to the walls around her.
    All of a sudden, a blast blew out the front windows of the building. Flames rolled out of the empty windowpanes and screams filled the air. She watched in horror as the police officers surrounding the building lifted into the air. The camera for the station she was watching shook violently and fell to the ground. Static erupted over the screen before it turned black.
    She grabbed the sides of the TV. “No!”
    The stricken reporters who were safe behind their news desk blinked into the camera lens. “We are sorry, but we have lost footage. We will work to re-establish communication with our team on location and get back to you.”
    “Ah!” She collapsed onto the floor, feeling helpless and sick. She clutched her hands over her heart. Her body vibrated in terror as endless sobs broke from her body.
    A moment later, she dragged herself off the ground, sought another channel with live footage, and watched the jittery feed from the camera in the chopper hovering above the scene. The shooting had spread into the parking lot where the mobsters were making a stand; snipers were taking them out left and right. Police officers were crowded behind cars, trees, and walls and were shooting for their lives.
    At six o’clock, the news anchors at the station reported that two out of the twenty something assailants were still alive. The odds were against them, but they weren’t giving up. The camera in the chopper zoomed in on one of the men as he took out a grenade, but a sniper shot him before he could pull the pin. Only one remained then and he refused to die. He shot two S.W.A.T members and three police officers before he was finally gunned down. By eight o’clock, the death toll had mounted to forty-seven and was climbing.
    Not feeling safe enough to venture out of Blake’s house, she called her hospital, demanding to know if a police officer by the name of Blake Herro was there. If he was, they didn’t know. Many police officers had been brought in, but names hadn’t been processed on all of them yet. She hung up the phone and turned to the TV only to hear the names of the fallen officers weren’t being released yet.
    Minutes crawled by. She paced back and forth, waiting for nine o’clock to come. When it did, she held her breath for a whole half hour. One minute past nine-thirty, a tear rolled down her cheek. Blake would’ve been home.
    She sat on the couch as fear took its toll on her body. She hadn’t done anything but worry and pray since the news had first broken. She hadn’t eaten, gone to the bathroom, or taken a moment to breathe. She fell asleep when