~Chapter 10~

     Inside the daycare, the shooter was getting more nervous, more panicked, edgy, convicted.  He paced and paced in the lobby, mumbling to himself incoherently, inaudibly, his emotions, his very being, cracking, breaking.  He could hear the mass of people, outside, raising their voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying in a unison chorus.  What was happening to him?  He didn’t know.  He cocked and uncocked his gun in a nervous rhythm, and then held his head, as it be...

Please subscribe to keep reading.