She looked at Mark’s disgusted face. His eyes were pointed at a bullet wound in his upper arm, most likely from return fire after he had smashed the window. Reaching through and opening the door with the inside handle would not be an option.

‘You made a big mistake, mate,’ Mark yelled to the sheltering figure. ‘Back when you used the staff room.’

‘Really?’ replied the man. ‘I didn’t touch anything in there except the kettle…’

Does he really care, or is he playing for time?

Mark Gunnarsson is stood outside the door planning to kill him. Of course he’s playing for time.

‘You touched the light switch,’ said Mark. ‘Oakenfold’s full of those crap energy-saving bulbs that need three minutes to warm up. I walked in, switched them on and the place lit up in a split-second. The bulbs were still warm, and your mate was asleep. Someone else must have used them earlier.’

‘Huh, how clever of you. Are you sure you were a student here? You’re not nearly stupid enough. What a way to live your life.’

‘Yeah, well you’re about to get killed by a retard. Proud way to go.’

Kate bit her lip. The confrontation would have to end sooner rather than later. But the door was firmly locked, and the man was hidden behind Paul’s desk where bullets could not reach him.

Then she remembered the other weapons they were carrying. She pointed to Mark’s belt, and he nodded.

‘Back in a bit,’ he whispered. ‘Keep him busy.’

Mark turned and fled, clutching his reddening upper arm, and left Kate to face the bullets alone. How she was supposed to prevent the man in the office from raising the shield, she had no idea. His laptop was right in front of him, and he was one button away from success.

And again… w hy hasn’t he done it already ?

*

‘Raj, we need to go!’

‘Why?’ asked Raj, thumbing through the paperwork balanced on the library shelves. ‘The gunfight’s over there, we’re over here. The others can handle it. What’s going on here is important.’

‘No,’ yelled Gracie, ‘we have to get outside! Back to Jack!’

‘He’ll never be your boyfriend, Gracie. Come here, I need you to help me read this.’

By the time Raj had looked up Gracie had fled, leaving nothing but the sound of her running footsteps. Raj breathed a sigh in the most irritated tone he could manage, and refocused on his work.

The school library had been turned into a miniature archive for the AME project. The original contents of the bookshelves had been thrown to the corners of the room – everything from the children’s encyclopaedias to the advice books for young adults applying for work – and replaced by binders of paperwork that must have been important to the team that had worked here.