“Is this all you brought?” he yelled, looking at Emil.
“This is Emil Sorn. It’s his first day,” Roose yelled. “The Emergency Response Team should be on their way.”
The sergeant held out a twelve-gauge shotgun to Emil.
“You know how to use one of these, kid?”
“Good! If anyone in orange gets within fifteen feet of that door, you shoot them right here.” He punched Emil in the middle of the chest, knocking him backward a step, and then handed him the shotgun.
“You got it?”
The sergeant started to walk away when Roose grabbed his arm.
“Are you sure about this?”
The sergeant looked at Emil and then back at Roose.
“You brought him here.”
He turned and went back to his men.
“I’m going to check on the ERT. Be safe, kid,” Roose said. He sprinted through the door that Emil was now guarding.
Emil held the shotgun in front of his chest and felt a surge of power rush through him. He realized that he held the power of life and death in his hands. A small grin appeared on Emil’s face. Morrilli got free from the officers and started toward the door Emil was guarding. He saw the shotgun and paused, until he noticed the person holding it looked like a kid. He smiled and strode toward the door. He paused again when the kid aimed the shotgun directly at him.
“You don’t wanna do that now, do you?” Morrilli said, making sure the shank in his sleeve was still hidden. Emil gave no warning, just followed his every move while mentally measuring how close he was to the door.
“You couldn’t take a life, boy. You don’t have it in you. You don’t know what it takes,” Morrilli said, advancing again. “Why don’t you just put that gun down before innocent people get hurt?”