The Town Awakens

Different Townspeople's POVs

The first shot shook the air like thunder in the middle of the night.

When the bullet went by Mrs. Betty Rodriguez's ear, she and her husband were running toward City Hall. While she screamed, she dragged her three kids behind a stopped car. Just then, more shots went off from the courthouse windows.

Her younger daughter cried, "Mommy, what's going on?"

Betty could hardly breathe because her heart was beating so fast. She had just been listening to the radio and heard little Emma Morrison's brave voice. Now there was a plan to kill them all.

Betty whispered, "Stay down, babies," and held her kids close. "Don't let them see you."

Families jumped behind cars and ran for their lives all around City Hall. The peaceful crowd that had come to save Emma was now stuck in a deadly shooting spree.

Tom Bradley's POV

Tom Bradley threw himself flat on the courthouse steps as bullets smashed into the concrete around him. Glass from broken windows rained down on his back.

He'd been one of the first people to arrive after hearing Emma's report. As the fire chief, he knew the town's emergency systems better than anyone. When that little girl started talking about Judge Brennan taking bribes and Sheriff Morrison being crooked, Tom's blood had run cold.

Because suddenly, everything made sense.

Two years ago, his own brother Mike had died in what everyone called a "work accident" at the chemical plant. Mike had been complaining for weeks about barrels being buried illegally behind the plant. He'd said he was going to report it to state officials.

Then a crane "accidentally" dropped a load of steel bars on him.

"Those murderers killed my brother," Tom growled, crawling toward a concrete pillar for cover. Another bullet chipped the stone inches from his head.

He pulled out his phone and called his fire station.

"This is Chief Bradley," he said into the phone. "Get every truck to City Hall now. We've got people under fire and a child trapped inside."

Rose Murphy's POV

Rose Murphy was hiding behind her flower shop when the shooting started. She'd been heading toward the courthouse with her elderly neighbor, Mr. Watson, when the first bullets started flying.

Now Mr. Watson was lying on the ground, blood spreading from his shoulder.

"Help me," he whispered softly.

Rose's hands were shaking as she pressed her scarf against his wound. She was sixty-five years old and had never seen violence like this in her quiet town.

But Emma's voice on the radio had awoken memories Rose had tried to forget.

Five years ago, guys in expensive suits had visited her flower shop. They'd told her she needed "protection" from attackers and thieves. When she refused to pay, someone had thrown a brick through her window. Her delivery truck had gotten four flat tires the next day.

Finally, she'd given in and started paying fifty dollars a week to stay safe.

"I should have known," Rose muttered, tears mixed with the dirt on her face. "I should have fought back years ago."

More bullets whizzed overhead. Rose could see gun flashes coming from at least six different windows around the courthouse square.

"We're surrounded," she realized with horror.

David Santos's POV

David Santos was stuck behind a mail truck with his wife Maria and their two youngest children. His son Danny was meant to be safely in jail, but now David understood the truth.

His boy wasn't a thief. Danny was a witness who'd seen too much.

"Papa, I'm scared," his eight-year-old daughter whispered in Spanish.

"Stay brave, mi amor," David answered, pulling both children closer. "We're going to get out of this."

But David wasn't sure how. The shooters had them pinned down from every direction. Every time someone tried to run, shots chased them back into hiding.

That's when David heard something that made his heart leap with hope.

Sirens. Lots of them, getting closer.

"Real police are coming," he told his wife. "Not the crooked ones. The good ones."

Through the chaos, David could see car headlights coming from three different roads. State police cars and FBI vehicles were finally arriving in Millbrook.

But would they get there in time?

Margaret Whitfield's POV

Margaret Whitfield was hiding in her own yard when she heard her husband's voice crackling over someone's police scanner.

"Target the Santos family first," Mayor Whitfield's voice ordered. "Then anyone with a camera or phone."

Margaret felt sick to her stomach. Her husband of twenty-two years was ordering the death of innocent families.

She thought about their son Tommy, sitting in jail for a crime he didn't commit. She thought about all the times Richard had come home late, saying he was working on "city business." All the mysterious phone calls and secret talks.

Her husband wasn't just crooked. He was evil.

Margaret pulled out her phone and dialed 911, even though she knew the local dispatch was probably in on the plot.

"This is Margaret Whitfield," she said when someone answered. "My husband is Mayor Richard Whitfield, and he's trying to kill people at City Hall. Send every honest cop you can find to downtown Millbrook right now."

Then she started running toward the building herself. If her son was going to die tonight, she wanted to die trying to save him.

Collective POV - The Townspeople

All across Millbrook, families were realizing the truth at the worst possible time.

The Johnsons remembered their daughter's "suicide" after she'd started asking questions about tainted water. The Miller family recalled their father's "heart attack" the day before he was meant to testify about illegal dumping. The young Wilson couple thought about their "accidental" car crash after they'd complained about cheating at town council meetings.

So many lives. So many lies. So many families ruined to protect Judge Brennan's criminal network.

And now Webb's shooters were trying to quiet everyone who knew the truth.

But something incredible was happening. Instead of running away, people were getting angry.

Fire trucks were arriving with sirens screaming. State police cars were racing down Main Street with lights flashing. FBI cars were surrounding the courthouse square.

The townspeople of Millbrook were finally fighting back.

Emma Morrison's POV

Inside City Hall, Emma Morrison pressed herself against the basement wall as gunshots rang through the building above her head.

She'd managed to escape from Marcus Webb during the confusion, but now she was trapped in the building's lower floor with nowhere to run.

That's when she heard something that made her blood freeze.

Footsteps on the basement stairs. Heavy boots, going slowly and carefully.

"Emma," Marcus Webb's voice called out softly. "I know you're down there, little girl. Time to come out and face what you've done."

Emma looked around desperately for somewhere to hide. The basement was dark and full of shadows, but there was only one way out - past Marcus Webb.

"You've caused a lot of trouble tonight," Webb continued, his voice getting closer. "But don't worry. It'll all be over soon."

Emma heard the click of a gun being loaded.

"Your daddy should have minded his own business. Your friend Maya should have stopped asking questions. And you should have kept your mouth shut."

Webb's shadow emerged at the bottom of the stairs.

"But now everyone's going to die because of what you did. Every person outside, every family that came to help you - they're all going to be shot tonight. And it's all your fault, Emma Morrison."

Emma's heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst. She was twelve years old, stuck in a dark basement with a killer, and hundreds of people were dying outside because she'd told the truth.

She closed her eyes and waited for Marcus Webb to find her hidden spot.

That's when she heard something impossible.

Her father's voice, calling her name from somewhere upstairs.