Officer Hemphill spun to face Kirina, who sighted down the barrel of the gun at his chest, her face twisted in torment. “No,” she said. She wiped tears from her eyes with her hand and resettled it on the gun. “Not Clarence.” She choked back a sob. “Not him.”
Janelle put her arms around the girls, pulling them to her.
Sartore raised a placating hand. “Kirina,” he said from where he stood among the students.
She swung the pistol, centering it on the professor. “No,” she said, her voice suddenly fierce. “Don’t you dare speak to me.”
“We’re here for you,” Sartore soothed, his voice barely carrying above the roar of the flames consuming the dining hall and eating through the forest behind the dormitories. “I’m here for you.”
“No, you’re not. Not you,” she said, backing away, the gun still aimed at the professor. “You, least of all.”
Sartore’s back straightened. “Okay,” he said, his voice firm and unyielding. “That’s enough.” He held out a hand and stepped toward Kirina. “Give me that,” he ordered.
The pistol wavered in Kirina’s hands.
“You heard me,” Sartore barked. “I’ll have no more of this.” He took another step toward Kirina. He was only a few feet from her now, his hand outstretched.
“No!” she cried, lifting the barrel until the gun was pointed at Sartore’s face.
“Kirina,” Clarence said. He had not moved from where he stood at Chuck’s side.
Kirina swung the gun past Chuck, aiming at Clarence.
Rosie ducked under her mother’s arm. “Not my uncle!” she screamed. She bolted across the patch of grass separating her from Kirina and threw herself at Kirina’s legs.
Kirina jerked, spinning away as Rosie slammed into her. A loud report sounded and a burst of flame leapt from the mouth of the gun as the barrel swept in an arc in front of her.
Rosie tumbled to the grass at Kirina’s feet. Kirina, still standing, stared open-mouthed at the discharged pistol in her hands.
Hemphill grunted and fell forward, clutching his shoulder.
A strangled sound came from deep in Kirina’s throat. She turned and sprinted toward Raven House, dropping the gun. The pistol bounced once in the grass, spun up and over the concrete curb separating the fields from the road. The gun settled out of sight in the gutter as Kirina crossed the road and disappeared through the dormitory’s open front door.
Janelle scrambled on her hands and knees to Rosie. Assured her daughter wasn’t hurt, she crawled across the grass to Hemphill. The students fell back, their mouths agape. Gregory knelt with Janelle at Hemphill’s side. Together, they rolled the officer to his back.
Sartore turned to Chuck. “I’m sorry.” He looked at Hemphill and Sheila, broken and bleeding on the ground. “This is my fault. All of it,” he said, his face downcast. “It’s up to me to make things right.” He set off after Kirina, his pace deliberate.
Chuck crouched at Hemphill’s feet. “Say something. Can you talk?”
Hemphill squeezed his eyes closed. “Sure,” he said through colorless lips. “I only got shot, that’s all.”
Gregory followed the slope of Hemphill’s shoulder with his fingers. The officer winced.
“Entrance and exit wounds,” Gregory said. “Not a lot of blood.”
Janelle handed bandages to Gregory. Rosie huddled behind Janelle, a panicked look on her face. Carmelita put a reassuring arm around her little sister.
Parker said from Sheila’s side, “Her eyes are open. She’s trying to talk.”
Chuck went to her. “Hey, there,” he said. He wasted no time. “Do you know who did this to you? Do you remember?”
Sheila’s mouth moved, but she made no sound.
Parker asked her, “Was it Clarence?”
Chuck glared at the resort manager.
Sheila’s eyes went to Parker. She neither nodded nor shook her head.
Chuck crouched at her side. “You’re going to be okay.” He took her hand. “Just a name. That’s all we need.”
Her eyes fluttered and began to close.
“Let us know when you can,” he told her.
Beyond the dormitories, the cafeteria roof fell in on itself with a loud whoosh. Smoke billowed from the building. Flames, rising from the forest, backlit the dorms on either side of the dining hall.
Chuck said to Parker, “You got her?”
The resort manager nodded.
Chuck stood and addressed the students, gathered a dozen feet away. “Keep at it with your phones. We need more police.” He pointed at Jake, hogtied on the ground. “And keep your eye on him.”
He turned to where Gregory and Janelle worked together, applying pressure to both sides of Hemphill’s shoulder. He caught Janelle’s eye and aimed his chin at the front door of Raven House. “Kirina didn’t mean to do what she did. I’ll see if I can get her to come back out.”
“It wasn’t entirely an accident,” Janelle said.
“I worked with her all summer. She’s not a murderer.”
Janelle gripped Gregory’s first-aid kit. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Chuck looked away, thinking of “Peeping Tom” Parker, guntoting Anca, and, finally, with grudging acceptance, Kirina.
He turned to Clarence. “You’re in charge of the students.” He set out for Raven House, remembering what Sartore had said: This is my fault. All of it.
Chuck glanced down as he stepped over the curb to cross the road to the dormitory.
Hemphill’s gun was gone.