PoV: Nate

It was Nate Logan’s first week as a detective for the Meadow Brook Police Department.  His first day actually.  He passed his exam, left patrol, and was now working in the homicide division.  He sat in his town car at the corner of Austen and Dawson waiting for the light to turn green.
“Turn left in 70 feet” his GPS system informed him.
He knew how to get to the school. He graduated from there eight years ago.  He graduated at the top of his class with a BA in Criminal Justice.  He always thought it was ironic that the two major degree plans at Meadow Brook were Criminal Justice and Drama.  One half of the college was focusing on finding the truth, the other half focused on playing aliases and fake people.
He pulled up next to a curb adjacent to a building marked off with yellow tape.  Some students were crying others were praying.  A convoy of ambulances and emergency vehicles blocked the street from anyone non-essential getting through.
Stretcher after stretcher and wheelchair after wheelchair were being paraded from the building.
Nate opened a bottle of aspirin and took three tablets.  He had a celebratory evening with his wife last night.
Probably not a good idea to drink a bottle of red wine the day before your new job.
Prophylactics be damned.  Now that he’s a couple pay grades higher, Karen thought maybe they should start trying for a family.
They didn’t get much rest last night.
Nate stepped out of his town car, lifted the tape and started walking towards the building.
Nate adjusted his sunglasses.  The sun was amazingly bright this morning.  If it wasn’t for this massacre, it would be a pretty good day.
Nate’s new partner, Arthur Linus approached.

“Good morning, Detective.”
“Morning, Art.  Is it really a good one, considering?”
“Touché.  Ready for your first homicide case?”
“I have to be.  I forced myself not to think much about it on the way up here.  What happened?”
“About 8:20 this morning, the suspect walked into Shepard Hall, pulled a fire alarm, and when people started filing out, he just started to open fire.”
“Six wounded. Eight dead. Two of the dead are the shooter and the hero.”
Art looked at his notes.
“Yeah, initial reports say that a theatre arts teacher tackled the guy and grabbed his gun.  He killed the shooter, but was hit as well.”
They approach the door which is being held by a uniformed officer who gave a congratulatory smile at Nate.
“Morning Bartlett.”
Nate entered the hallway and removed his sunglasses.  It took a second for his eyes to adjust. Then when they did, he wished it would be blurry again.
Oh my goodness.
The close-quartered hall was littered with bodies.  It was if a category five hurricane of death and mayhem hit this place.  Blood stained the floor and wall.  It even found its way 
into crevices and light sockets.  The photograph taken in his mind will no doubt breedscary monsters and ferocious beasts in his coming dreams.
“Is there going to be enough room in our morgue for all of these bodies?”
They didn’t live in a small town, but they weren’t huge like Las Vegas, Miami, or New York.
It’s going to be surreal, but they’re going to use the university’s laboratory morgue.
Nate looked down at a kid wearing a trench coat.
What’s with the creepy smile?
“This our shooter??”
Art nodded.
Nate squatted and paid attention to the bullet hole in the kid’s chest.
“Do we have a name?”
“No ID found on him, we’re trying to find out if he’s a student or not.”
Nate frowned.  It’s a look his wife knew all too well.  It meant that his wheels were spinning.
“And our hero??”
Art pointed at the crumbled body leaning against the wall.
Nate swiveled on the balls of the feet 180 degrees and did a once over.
Poor bastard.
He looked at the wound in the hero’s shoulder.
“His name?”
Art looked in his notebook.
“Tennpenny. Luke Tennpenny, he was a theatre teacher here.”
Nate shot a surprised look at Art then moved the hero’s chin to get a good look at his face.
Nate was in shock.  He new this guy.  He knew Luke.  They used to be room mates here.  They used to be best friends.
Holy Crap?? Does Alicia know yet? 

This is horrible.
“Do you know this guy?”
“He was my best friend.  I haven’t seen him in a few years.  I didn’t know he moved back here.  Has his family been told?”
“Not yet. We found a phone next to him.  We assume it’s his.”
“Let me do it.  I know his wife.”
“Fine with me.  You need me to ride along?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Nate rushes from the scene back to his car. He finds the address and rushes to Luke’s house.
Please not be home. Please not be home.
As bad as Alicia needed to know, he doesn’t know how to tell her.  He knocks on the door.
Alicia answers, absolutely hysterical.

“Hey Alicia..”
“Is this about Lucius??”
“Yeah it is..”
Nate’s phone rang. It was Art.
“Nate, just got a call from the ambulance.  The shooter is alive.”