The sounds of sirens could be heard coming from every direction. A fast-moving mass of law enforcement officials from every level of government was approaching, including Otis and Randle. Step had put a call in to them right after he’d hung up with Spivey.
The first official vehicle to roar into the parking lot and screech to a stop in front of the blue-and-silver bus belonged to Armstrong. She and Spivey stepped out of the car and shared a look as they approached the bodies of the fallen militiamen.
“Well, this is a mess,” Armstrong said.
Kenny stepped out of the bus and smiled. “Didn’t have time to clean up. These boys threw a hell of a party. Step gathered up a good number of the ones that are still drawing in air, and he’s keeping watch over them in that bus over yonder,” Kenny said, pointing at the other end of the parking lot.
“How many in all?” Armstrong asked.
Kenny shrugged. “Didn’t expect to do math today. A bunch. But it ain’t all. There’s more on campus. Could be a dozen or so. Here and there.”
“Fuck.”
“It ain’t all bad. Tech boys inside can run ’em down. They’s all wearing body cameras with them GPS thingamajigs.”
Without warning, Nola burst out of the bus, clutching her wounded arm. “Dani’s in some shit.”
Spivey stooped down and picked up the nearest discarded Chaos Triple Five. “Where?”