Kaya and her friends crouched low as gunshots echoed in the police station. Officers screamed. More shots were fired. Boom. Boom boom.

"Shoot her!" someone shouted.

More shots. Screaming.

Kaya did a quick scan of the break room. There were windows in the break room, but the windows were covered in bars. They could not escape. The screaming was getting closer outside.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!"

A shotgun blast, followed by several more shotgun blasts.

The door to the break room opened. The hall outside the break room was filled with the smell of gunfire. A thin haze of smoke wafted into the room. A woman with long brown hair, blue slacks, blue jacket, walked into the break room.

The woman smiled.

"Hello Kaya Potts," said the woman. "I feel like I’ve been looking for you all day. My name is Emily Brightwell. I have some questions for you."

An officer ran up to Emily, swung the barrel of his shot gun up, shot Emily in the back of the head. She ignored him as if the shots were just drops of rain.

Three officers tried to tackle the woman. But it was like football players trying to tackle a stone statue. They stumbled backward after hitting her, and one officer clearly had dislocated his shoulder. Emily acted as if nothing happened.

"Kaya," shouted an officer. It was Officer Gentry. He hit Emily in the neck with his fist, staggered back, clutching his broken hand to his chest. Emily’s body was like steel.

Jordan, the tallest person in the room, took two steps and placed herself between Emily Brightwell and Kaya.

"You will not touch my friend," Jordan growled, fists clenched. Jordan stared down at Emily. Perhaps this stare intimidated players on the basketball court. Emily, however, was unimpressed.

"I don't have time to talk to you," Emily said. "I am here for Kaya. I don’t want to hurt you. Get out of the way."

"Leave now," Jordan growled.

Kaya didn't know what to do. But she couldn't let her best friend die. Not against a woman who was clearly not human. The bullets had done nothing to Emily. The three large police officers had been like toddlers against Emily. Kaya was not going to let Jordan die.

"I'll go with you," Kaya said. "Just don't hurt my friends."

Emily nodded. "Kaya, stay out of this," said Jordan. “I’ve got this.”

Kaya admired Jordan’s courage. Being one of the best basketball players in North Carolina reinforced Jordan’s confidence. But this was not a basketball game. Kaya put her hand on Jordan’s shoulder.

"Do you really want to fight me to protect your friend?" Emily asked. She weakly suppressed a smile. Emily shrugged. "Hit me with your best shot kid."

Emily leaned forward, stuck her chin out, closed her eyes.

Jordan quickly tied her long blonde hair into a loose braid, spit out her gum, took off for earrings.

"Jordan are you crazy?" Abby asked.

* * *

A news van from the Avalon Springs Journal was parked across the street from the Police Department. Shouting could be heard from inside the police department, but the shooting stopped. Terrence Kimball, a tall black man, sat behind the steering wheel of the news van. He held a small camera recording the events outside the police station.

Terrence had reported in Avalon Springs for several years. He was the editor of the tiny local newspaper. He took pride that the paper was still independent, locally run. But it meant the staff was very small. Typically the biggest news was the girls basketball team competing for a state championship, downed powerlines and flash flooding from a hurricane level rainstorms, and the chaos that an inch of snow could cause for a warm weather town.

But at that moment he was doing a live broadcast to the newspaper's webpage. His heart pounded. He was scared, but also needed to do his job.

Several barricades were erected in front of the police station. Four officers shouted, scrambled around. It wasn’t like Avalon Springs had a large department. This was nearly a third of the department outside the building.

Random people watched from the false safety of shop windows, or behind cars. Some people recorded the chaos on cell phones.

One police officer grabbed a riot shield. These officers had evacuated the police station, but were clearly preparing for a full assault to retake the building.

"Still no word on who attacked the police station," Terrence Kimball said. "But my sources tell me the chief of police was killed earlier today... and that the gunman at Avalon Springs High School is the same person who killed the chief of police. No word yet as to who is inside the police station now. But as you can see the police are putting on riot gear. Facemasks. And they are preparing to storm the building. We do not have information yet as to how many people are still inside the police station, who's been hurt, or who has been killed."

Terrence held the camera towards the police station. His hands were shaking, making the video shake.

Terrence continued, “I was on my way to the police station to ask about the Avalon Springs High School incident when the shooting started here. I have to tell you folks, had this happened by only a few minutes differently, I would've been inside the police station. Potentially dead. I can only tell you that right now I feel incredibly lucky to be outside, while our brave men and women of the Avalon Springs Police Department are inside dealing with a homicidal maniac."

Terrence took a deep breath.

"I pray that God brings a swift resolution to this crisis," Terrence said. "And I hope you all pray with me that no one else is injured or killed today."

Terrence watched. Waited.

Sweat dripped down his forehead.

An explosion from the second floor of the building sent wood, brick, and glass spraying outward like a fountain. Dust, metal fragments, insulation sprayed into the air. Debris fell on police officers in the street. In the middle of the street a woman thumped down, hit the ground hard, rolled, and her back thumped into the front wheel of the news va, which rocked the vehicle.

Terrence's eyes bulged. The woman who had crashed into the front wheel of Terrence's van stood up. A trickle of blood came from the right side of her mouth. Her left shoulder hung at an odd angle, at least dislocated, perhaps broken. She turned, clenched fists, brushed off her blue jacket, shook her brown hair from her face. She looked up at the hole in the side of the building.

A tall teenage girl, blonde hair, stood in the gaping hole in the side of the police station. Terrance recognized the girl. Her name was Jordan. She was the star center of the Avalon Springs High School girls basketball team. Jordan stared at the woman.

Green lightning crackled between Jordan’s fingertips.

Jordan hopped from the hole in the police station, landed gracefully on the street, and then ran toward the woman in the blue jacket.