Shop class that never was this year because the teacher had quit before the school year started.Decker had wondered if there was another reason—other than the passageway coming up in the storage room off the classroom—for the shooter to want access to this particular space.He stepped through and into the storage room in the rear. He eyed the mounds of junk from old projects left behind like dinosaur bones waiting for an archaeological dig.Well, Decker intended to dig.He started at the top of each mound and worked his way to the bottom.He found nothing useful. So he sat on the floor and thought about it. He went through the possible steps in his head. Up here, he decided, would not be pragmatic. The shooter would need more privacy, more of a buffer zone.He left the storage room and went down the steps to the other room that had the false wall made of balsa wood. The junk pile here had been moved to the side by the shooter.Decker didn’t have to dig very deeply through all the crap.He pulled out the object and held it up.A chicken-wire and leather contraption with padding built into it.
