Chapter 23

“YOU HAVE THE RIGHT to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time. Understanding each of these rights, do you now wish to speak to the police without a lawyer being present?”

Dennis looked at Trooper Moran. He desperately wanted to trust the man. He’d helped Dennis’s family—may have saved his father’s life. But too much had been publicized about what happened to people who volunteered too much information. Anything he said could be held against him in court. And he didn’t trust court. His voice squeaked as he continued to shake, tears running from his eyes. Is this what he survived for?

“Trooper Moran, my name is Dennis Enders. I’m sixteen years old. My student ID is in my shirt pocket. I respectfully decline to answer any other questions until my mother, Dorothy Enders, and my attorney, Drake Vining, are present.”

Moran sighed. “Did you memorize that just for this occasion?” Dennis was silent. “Damnit, Dennis, we need to follow up on accusations. And we need to follow protocol. Just sit there. Don’t move. There are only two of us present and we can’t even take the one you hogtied in until we get more backup. Don’t do anything that causes one of us to react badly.”

Dennis really tried to obey the officer, but it had been too much. Tears were pouring out of his eyes and he was shaking. At least he turned his head away from the trooper before he threw up. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he blacked out.

By an odd chance, Trooper Moran had been cruising through White Center when he heard the active shooter warning from Bartley High School. He’d responded at once and called for backup. All units within fifty miles were responding and the ambulance and fire truck from Bartley were on the scene when he arrived at the school. He could hear shots ring out from the school and determined it was an assault style rifle that delivered three-shot bursts.

He pulled his weapon as he rushed to the door. The school had gone into lockdown protocol. A klaxon rang inside alerting students to go to the nearest safe room and lock down. Students who had gone outside for their lunch were called to fire drill assembly points. The two teachers who were on outdoor monitoring duty were doing their best to keep everyone together and panic at bay. Down the hall, he could see the shooter. If the doors had been unlocked, he’d have had a clear shot at him.

Then another student started approaching from the side hall. Trooper Ray Lenin arrived with siren and lights flashing.

“It could be thirty minutes before we get any more backup,” Lenin said. “I was the only other one within twenty miles. What’s our plan?”

“We’re locked out,” Moran said. “Look!” They watched as the approaching kid swung and hit the shooter so hard, he slammed into a window and the gun fired off another burst as it flew from his hand. “We need to get in. Bertie, get the school to lift the protocol,” he said into his lapel mike. “We need through the front doors. It appears the shooter is down.” Why the hell did the shooter let him approach?

“We have 911 confirmation and are contacting the school,” his dispatcher said.

“Visual confirmation. I see more kids coming into the hall. We need in!” There was a buzz and the locks on the school door released. The two officers ran into the building with weapons drawn and ordered the students to all freeze.

“There’s a guy down here who’s been shot!” a voice called from the junction. Lenin slapped his cuffs around the arms of the kid who was down and radioed for the EMTs to come in. He got the other kids in the hall to sit and stay still.

“Adhesive tape?” Moran asked as he frisked Dennis quickly looking inside his waist pack. He removed the scissors and tossed them toward where Lenin was standing on the rifle.

“Athletic tape,” Dennis replied through his tears. The kid was shaking and weeping. Moran could see shock setting in.

“Turn around and lean back against the wall, Dennis,” he directed. Dennis did as he was told.

“Trooper Moran?”

“Ever get tired of being a hero, kid?” Moran asked. He checked the cuffs on the still-cursing shooter. “Hmm. I can’t tear through this many layers of tape. He’ll have to wear it until we get a medic in here.”

The EMTs, accompanied by three volunteer firemen, came rushing in and hurried down the hall. Moran got Dennis to put his head between his knees and stay still while the perp continued a long string of invective next to them. He motioned a fireman to stand over Les and make sure he didn’t get loose. The EMTs returned with a kid on the gurney.

“He’s one of them!” the kid yelled. “I heard him say they were going to kill everyone at commencement. He’s one of them!”

Moran had no choice. He slapped cuffs on Dennis, taking the boy completely by surprise. He read out the Miranda rights. The only way they could get this taken care of quickly was if someone started explaining things. Dennis threw up and then passed out.

“Trooper, we have recordings of everything that occurred,” a voice said over the speakers in the hall. “Parts are drowned out by the klaxon but we are sure Dennis was not a part of this. We have called his mother and his attorney.”

“Who the hell are you?” Moran shouted out.

“This is acting principal Andrea Morris. I’m just on the other side of the glass from you.”

Moran looked up at the honeycombed safety glass and the stressed looking woman. He spoke into his lapel mike again. “Gertie, we need another ambulance. I have one going into shock.”

“An additional ambulance and two more troopers are less than five minutes away. Additional resources have been dispatched from Des Moines and should be there within fifteen minutes.”

Moran had rolled Dennis to his side to be sure he didn’t aspirate any of his vomit. The kid would probably pass out again as soon as he opened his eyes and saw the mess.

As soon as the next officer arrived, he moved to collect the weapon and scissors while Lenin started questioning the kids sitting in the hall. The officer efficiently chalked the position of the rifle and then bagged the firearm and scissors.

“What’s our status, trooper?” another officer said upon entering the school.

“That one’s the perp, Sergeant,” Moran said, motioning at Les. “Minimum charge is attempted murder. The firearm will have his prints all over it and we’ve hauled out a wounded student. This one put him down.”

“Why is he cuffed?”

“The wounded student pointed at him and accused him of being a collaborator. He’s gone into shock and we’re waiting for additional medical aid. And his mother and lawyer. The school already contacted them,” Moran said. Dennis coughed and spit, gasping for air. Moran helped him into a sitting position. He looked around wildly.

“Dennis!” Dot screamed as she barged through the open doors. Drake Vining was on her heels. Two more firemen arrived and blocked the doors so no one else could get in.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry. I didn’t do it,” Dennis wept. Moran let Dot hold him as he continued to shake. The trooper who had bagged the weapon now got Les to his feet, but had to hold him up.

“Sarge, I need help getting this one to the patrol car.”

The sergeant strode over to Lenin to see if he had anything. The kids sitting in the hall had been locked out of safe rooms and had come to try to subdue the perp just as the police had burst in. Lenin was sent to assist with Les and the two officers carried Les out to a patrol car and locked him in the back. The other officer stayed in the car as Lenin returned to the school with two EMTs. They went directly to work on Dennis to bring him out of his shocked state. Andrea Morris came out of the office.

“Can we fully release the lockdown?” she asked. “We have safe rooms that are way overcrowded and students who may need aid for minor injuries incurred during the scramble for safety.”

“Bring those two firemen in to help with first aid and order,” the sergeant said. “Then relock the doors, but release the safe rooms. Send everyone to the cafeteria to be checked over.” Andrea nodded to her secretary and as soon as the two firemen were inside, the outer doors clicked. The secretary set up watch for additional emergency personnel. The halls came to life as the firemen directed students to the cafeteria. Soon there were adequate teachers in the halls so the firemen could tend to assessing injuries.

“Now, do you think you can stand up?” an EMT asked Dennis.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. Tears were still falling.

“Ms. Morris, we need a room for questioning or we’ll have to take these folks into Des Moines,” the sergeant said.

“We often use the classroom across the hall for larger conferences,” she said pointing the way.

“Dennis! Are you okay?” Coach Graves yelled as she ran toward them.

“He didn’t do it!” Carol yelled on her heels.

“Stop right there!” Moran yelled holding up his hand. Ardith came to a walk with Carol right behind her, but they continued toward the officer.

“Andrea, this is exactly what I warned Conway about in January,” Ardith said. “He wouldn’t contact the school board or file a warning.”

“I kept all the notes,” Andrea said. “We’ll get this straightened out.”

They entered the room and Drake immediately took Dennis and Dot to a corner where they could talk quietly.

“Okay, you are a teacher and you’re a student, I assume,” the sergeant said. “You first. Who are you and how do you know he didn’t do whatever he was supposed to do?”

“I’m Carol Reston. I was a bully who tormented Dennis last year. And he still saved my life. He saved it again when he pulled me out of the hall and he was administering first aid to that kid who was hit. I think the bullet was meant for me. Dennis had me apply pressure and ice to the wound while he put himself in danger to confront the shooter.”

“Okay. Let’s hold that where it’s at. What kind of warning are we talking about, teacher?” Sergeant Laubach asked looking at Ardith. They sat at the table in the room. The EMTs had left to tend to the students in the cafeteria. With Dennis, Drake, and Dot in a corner, only the sergeant, the principal, the coach, and Carol sat at the desk. Moran stood apart where he could watch Dennis without being privy to his conversation.

“I’m Coach Ardith Graves. Dennis is my team manager. In January, there was a huge drug and trafficking bust here in Bartley. As is always the case, rumors after the event far exceeded the facts available. One such rumor was promoted by Les Steinman, the boy you’ve arrested. Dennis came to me to report that Les seemed to have built up a fantasy that Dennis had been responsible for the bust and the deaths of the Gang of Three. He told Dennis that when he was ready to take out the rest of the bullies and abusers in the school, Les would back him up with his father’s AR15. Dennis didn’t know what to do with that information, but brought it to me. I took it to then Principal Conway.”