With covid-19 freezing testing and applications, I decided to give writing a try and been working on a horror novel. While writing the novel though, I wanted to write some smaller stories to work on receiving criticism to improve my writing skills. I've always thought of writing stories and even had ideas in my head, but never got into putting the writings on paper. This is the first small story that I've finished and wanted to share for those who enjoy reading, and to gain feedback on what was liked or disliked. This small story I may build off and create a longer story with it in the future as well.
Click, click, click, click, “48, 46, 43…” Jones Dennis clocked the white Volvo as it came across the bridge. It’s headlights luminated Jones patrol car. Slowing down as it passed his patrol car. Jones sighed; this wasn’t the job he wanted but was all that he could find to support his family. Click, click, click, click, Jones watched the speed radar, “50…47…44…” another car slowed as they noticed his patrol car. After passing his car, Jones was left with the darkness of that early morning. Jones thought of his family living in the suburbs of the city. Click, click, click, click, the sound faded to Jones as his mind drifted to his wife.
Jones and Rachel had been together for eight months at the time. It was a cold January day, he remembered it all so clearly. The snow piling outside the small house, the fireplace roaring and lighting up the living room. Jones was determined to clean up all the Christmas decorations after the New Year celebrations. When he lived back with his parents it would sit until February, everyone was lazy to take the time to clean up the junk. Jones picked up a small Santa figurine from the table, placing it into the cardboard box. Click…click…click…click. Useless junk he figured, he wasn’t for the going all in decorations of the holiday season, and this wasn’t his idea. He loved Rachel, but it was up to him to bring her boxes of decorations from the basement and set them up, and his job to bring the damn boxes up again, pack it all up, and then go back and place it all in the basement.
He wasn’t prepared for that day; it would be the day that forever changed his life. Rachel came in with her hands behind her back. She was pregnant. Jones could feel his heart drop and stop beating. Click…click…click…click. She had announced the pregnancy full of joy and delight, she was excited to be having her first baby. Jones wasn’t ready, his job of working lawn care around the town wouldn’t be able to support a kid. Besides, what would his parents think? Click…click…click…click. Jones pretended to react with joy, but deep inside he was panicking, what would he do for a job?
That January Jones spent the month looking for jobs that paid well. Checking the internet, he found one job a few hours away. They would have to leave their small home, that alone would be a risk of trying to sell the joint. The pay was good though, sixty-seven thousand a year. Jones clicked on the link taking him to the Monoford Police Departments website. Click…click…click…click. The application was a long process, Jones spent the evening drinking coffee and filling the application out. The questions were repetitive, scrolling through a list of his skills, and after selecting one from the long list it would reset back to the top.
Jones crawled into bed; Rachel was already asleep he believed. Finally resting his head on the pillow exhausted, silence at least. “How’d job searching go?” Jones realized Rachel wasn’t asleep yet. Click…click…click…click. “I found a job, pays well at sixty-seven grand. It’s about three hours of a drive, located in Monoford.” “Oh, that’s wonderful Jones! What the job?” There was a moment of silence, Jones knew she wouldn’t like the answer. “A police officer for the city.” Click…click…click…click. Those words left Rachel in dismay. She didn’t know much about policing, but she knew it was a dangerous job. “Oh…that’s great hun.” Jones could sense the displeasure in her voice. Rachel turned over falling asleep. Click, click, click, click. “Anything yet Jones?”
Officer Gomez’s voice broke Jones train of thought. Jones had been sitting at the corner of liberty drive and mountain road watching the bridge. Gomez was up on the small hill of liberty drive behind Jones, waiting for a car to pull over. Jones had three years’ experience now and had recently finished his probation period of the job. Gomez was a good cop; he had much more experience with fifteen years on the job. Gomez was a good friend, inviting him and Rachel over for barbecues at his house. Always giving Jones pointers and teaching him as they went along the job. “No not yet Gomez, they’re being awfully careful as they cross that bridge.” “Yeah, the gun runners are used to us by now sitting in this area, they’ve learned to use caution after that big bust two months ago.”
Jones remembered that day, he was patrolling in Lower Alder when Gomez announced a traffic stop on mountain road of a jeep wrangler. The wrangler was going sixty-two as it crossed, the driver slammed on the breaks when he saw Gomez. Another officer was with Gomez and initiated the stop, two passengers that were all nervous. As Jones turned off 113th avenue onto mountain road the wrangler tried to drive off from the stop. After a short pursuit they crashed into a tree near the border with the rural area. The driver was ejected out from the car, the passenger tried to make a run for it but Gomez tased him. Jones remembered the driver laying on the ground after flying through the windshield. It was a miracle the bastard was still alive. They recovered several AUG’s and AK47’s from the vehicle. After Jones had moved to the city the gun business exploded. Several gangs had begun illegally producing guns selling them to the gangs focused on drugs. Capitalism at its finest. Last year was the deadliest for the Monoford police department, they had lost six officers alone from gunfire. Several other officers transferred away from the city looking for jobs in other areas. Detectives worked the streets trying to find the factories the weapons were produced in.
“Yeah they’re getting smarter, we can try here for another thirty minutes, then we can try that spot in Lower Alder.” “Sounds good, we should stop at Ronnie’s and grab something.” Jones smirked when Gomez mentioned Ronnie’s, he knew Gomez would down three triple patty burgers within a minute. Jones couldn’t imagine how his body worked to handle that much grease and not gain a single pound. Jones looked at the picture of his wife on the dashboard, bringing him back into his daydream. Click…click…click…click.
That evening before work Rachel was frustrated with him. Their son Frank had recently entered the terror phase, three years old. Everything was ‘mine’; he grabbed several cookies off the counter eating them one by one until Jones grabbed them away from him. Rachel hated the hours and didn’t realize this was the most difficult part for her of being married to a police officer. Jones would leave at eight at night and wouldn’t return home until 4 in the morning the next day. After that he slept for about eight hours, giving her and Frank little of his spare time. Click…click…click…click.
Jones daydream ended, the speed radar lighting up eighty-eight. “Gomez red lancer about to pass us, eighty-eight.” Jones heard Gomez’s engine roar awake as the car drove down the hill. The red lancer turned into Lower Alder on 113th avenue, two tires came off the ground, the other two let out a loud squeak. “Delta two traffic stop on a red lancer, turning onto 69th street.” Jones heard Gomez’s voice over the radio. Jones followed behind, the lights of their patrol cars lit up the neighborhood of red and blue. The sound of the engines roaring louder, the red lancer wasn’t slowing down. “Delta two that red lancer isn’t stopping, in pursuit on 69th street heading towards 121st avenue.” The radio woke up from the silence of the slow night, units began to announce they were responding. They passed the fire station, the engines and sirens screaming waking up the night, the headlights lighting up the road in front, the emergency lights flashing the area in blue and red. The wind howled as it hit the car, the speed increasing, 62, 67, 72, 80. Jones heart began to race faster as he felt the adrenalin consume him.
Jones could see the red lancer in front of Gomez’s charger. His older crown victorian had a difficult time keeping up with the two of them. He was promised a charger earlier that year, but he knew it took Gomez seven years until he got his charger. The department was slow at replacing the older models. “The vehicle is turning right onto 142nd avenue.” Gomez’s voice was strong over the radio, he was able to control his anxiety well. Jones could feel the blood pumping throughout his whole body, his heart beating faster. “Turning onto President Bay.” The red lancer hit the sidewalk with a boom. The lancer bounced onto the front lawn of one of the houses. “Vehicle’s stopping, 6th President Bay.” Gomez angled his car to the lancer, Jones pulled up on Gomez’s right side angling his car. Gomez was the first out of his car; Jones saw him raising his pistol. The driver of the red lancer jumped out raising a rifle towards Gomez.
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, the echoes of gun fire exploded as the automatic rifle of the suspect fired upon Gomez. “Shots fired shots fired President Bay need backup!” Jones called out into the radio. His heart beat rapidly, and the blood rushed throughout his body. A voice in the back of his mind called out to him, turn off the engine. Jones remembered his captain stressed this after several cars had been stolen. Bang…bang…bang, Jones got out as quickly as he could pulling his pistol from his holster, aiming down sights he could tell he was shaking. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. He had never been in a shootout. Jones felt his training take over his body. Boom, boom, boom. Aiming the pistol at the center of the suspect he put his finger on the trigger. The suspect wasn’t facing him, he had been facing the direction of Gomez. Boom, boom, boom. Approaching sirens screamed, Jones heard none of them though. His mind was focused on the suspect, boom…boom… …boom…boom. Jones opened fire; he didn’t even notice the sound of his Glock. Bang…bang…bang, bang.
The suspect dropped the gun and fell to the ground. Jones looked over to his left to Gomez, he was no longer standing there. Coming back to reality Jones realized only a few seconds had passed. His heartbeat felt like a race horse. The sounds of sirens grew louder. Jones ran behind Gomez’s car keeping his head down, he found Gomez lying there on his back. “Gomez, Gomez can you hear me?” No response, Jones noticed the several holes that had pierced Gomez. “Officer down at President Bay!” Jones voice wailed into the radio. Jones ran over to the suspect who had lurched over onto his side. Jones kept his gun aimed on the suspect, rolling the suspect onto his back with one hand he handcuffed the man. “Suspect is down, two casualties need EMS.” Jones looked over at the weapon the suspect dropped, it was an AUG. Grabbing it he placed it onto the hood of Gomez’s car.
Gomez was shot several times in the abdominal area; Jones hands shook fiercely as he grabbed bandages from the first aid kit in Gomez’s car door. Jones touched Gomez’s neck which was turning white, he could feel a weak pulse. Jones began to shake, and his heart beat faster. He wasn’t going to let Gomez die on that street. The sounds of sirens grew louder, Jones saw the headlights approaching quickly. Jones hand began to go numb as he held the bandage on Gomez’s wounds. Murder of a police officer, the words floating in his head as he stared at the suspect. Jones could feel the bandage becoming wet as he held it on the wound, grabbing another bandage he placed it on top. His heart raced harder in his chest. Two patrol cars arrived at once, one of the officers ran to the suspect and began to give the suspect aid. Jones didn’t realize but a crowd of residents had gathered around them. One officer tried to gain control of the crowd to push them back.
Wee-whoo wee-whoo¸ Jones recognized the distinct siren as the ambulance grew closer. The red and white lights lighting up the neighborhood that was luminated by porch lights and the red and blue lights. The ambulance pulled up behind the patrol cars, two medics rushed out towards the scene. One medic came over to him, “We’ll take it from here sir, we need you to step aside.” The medic placed his hand onto the bandage that Jones placed on Gomez, Jones hands was unrelenting to let go of his friend, but he knew the medic would be able to take care of him better. Another ambulance roared onto scene, two more medics hopped out, grabbing a stretcher from the back and rushing towards Gomez. Jones looked to his hands realizing they were soaked with blood, he assumed it was from Gomez, but wondered if any of it was from the suspect. His hands shook and his heart continued to race.
More officers arrived on scene; one man ran past the officers that were attempting to set up a perimeter. Jones recognized the man; they had several calls to one of the houses that the guy was renting here. The man’s name was Hank Robin. He saw things and heard things, calling the police almost daily. The man made a run for Jones car, the door still wide open. Shit, the engine, Jones forgot to turn it off. Jones made a run for the car, the man attempted to get into the front seat, Jones was able to snag onto his arm. “It’s my destiny, the spirits have spoken to me it is my role to arrest those damn neighbors that try to poison me. You guys never listen to my calls!” Jones ignored Hanks voice, pulling his arm he was able to pull him out of the vehicle. Another officer came behind Jones the three of them wrestled on the ground. The other officer was able to get handcuffs on Hank while Jones held Hanks arms. The officer dragged Hang to the side of his car, searching him for weapons or drugs. Hank went on a tangent yelling words Jones couldn’t understand, if they were words at all. The adrenalin was still racing throughout his body. Jones realized the other officer as Tim Kimbers, he was only on the force for one year longer than Jones. Tim was well built and was able to easily control situations with his raw strength alone. Jones looked to his car and turned off his engine. He sighed with relief at the close call.
Jones left the scene untouched for the crime scene investigations that would be investigating the shooting. He wiped his hands that were still soaked with blood onto a washcloth he kept in his car. More headlights appeared; Jones recognized it as the captain driving his patrol SUV. Jones was thankful that Captain Young was on shift, the other captain was known for his strictness and lack of empathy. Young on the other hand was more understanding of the officers, but still ensured things got done by the book. Captain Young approached Jones, “You alright officer Dennis?” “Physically yeah, mentally a bit shook up.” It was an understatement, his heart inside was racing and he feared for Gomez life. Perhaps the worse thought in his mind was that could’ve been him. Jones knew Gomez wasn’t dead, yet at least from feeling his pulse. Part of him hoped when he got off, he could hide it from Rachel, but he knew that wasn’t going to be possible. “I want a detailed report written up about what happened, with protocol you’ll be put under investigation and suspended with pay until things get sorted out. Crime scene will be here shortly, and they’ll process the scene. I’ll also need your weapon for evidence.” The captain held his hand out, Jones grabbed his gun, looking at it as he became disarmed and handed it to the captain. Jones tried to wrap his head around everything the captain said, he could hear the beat of his heart racing in his chest. “I know it’s hard, head to the station and get yourself cleaned up. The chaplain will be there for you to talk to. Also, call your family, let them know you’re okay. A lot of misinformation will be floating around, and they need to hear from you.” “Alright sir,” Jones nodded his head and walked to his patrol vehicle taking a deep breath to regain control of his body. It was no use though, his hands trembled as he opened the door.
Jones went and called Rachel; the phone rang for awhile before going to voicemail. It was two in the morning, she most likely was asleep. “Hey Rachel, I wanted to let you know I’m alright, I got some stuff I have to do at the station then I’ll be home.” Jones mind was still scrambled, his heart beat rapidly, and he was still shaking. Taking one last deep breathe Jones started the engine. It was a maze to leave the scene, turning off his emergency lights he drove back to the police station. The image of Gomez on the street, the man firing the gun, boom, boom, boom, boom, the sound of the automatic fire was burned into his brain.
Jones pulled into the police garage, parking the car he noticed the chaplain was waiting for him holding the door open. The Monoford police department offered skilled professionals for traumas like these, but Jones couldn’t help thinking it was a negative trait. Having the best professionals to deal with our officer’s mental state being scrambled like an egg while dealing with the crime in our city. That might as well have been the departments motto. Jones turned off the engine and took one last deep breath before exiting his vehicle. His heart still racing in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to write the report on it all, and then talk with the professionals afterwards. Worse of all, he would have to return home to Rachel and tell her the story. Jones slammed the door shut and walked through the door the chaplain held open to begin his next journey.
Jones and Rachel had been together for eight months at the time. It was a cold January day, he remembered it all so clearly. The snow piling outside the small house, the fireplace roaring and lighting up the living room. Jones was determined to clean up all the Christmas decorations after the New Year celebrations. When he lived back with his parents it would sit until February, everyone was lazy to take the time to clean up the junk. Jones picked up a small Santa figurine from the table, placing it into the cardboard box. Click…click…click…click. Useless junk he figured, he wasn’t for the going all in decorations of the holiday season, and this wasn’t his idea. He loved Rachel, but it was up to him to bring her boxes of decorations from the basement and set them up, and his job to bring the damn boxes up again, pack it all up, and then go back and place it all in the basement.
He wasn’t prepared for that day; it would be the day that forever changed his life. Rachel came in with her hands behind her back. She was pregnant. Jones could feel his heart drop and stop beating. Click…click…click…click. She had announced the pregnancy full of joy and delight, she was excited to be having her first baby. Jones wasn’t ready, his job of working lawn care around the town wouldn’t be able to support a kid. Besides, what would his parents think? Click…click…click…click. Jones pretended to react with joy, but deep inside he was panicking, what would he do for a job?
That January Jones spent the month looking for jobs that paid well. Checking the internet, he found one job a few hours away. They would have to leave their small home, that alone would be a risk of trying to sell the joint. The pay was good though, sixty-seven thousand a year. Jones clicked on the link taking him to the Monoford Police Departments website. Click…click…click…click. The application was a long process, Jones spent the evening drinking coffee and filling the application out. The questions were repetitive, scrolling through a list of his skills, and after selecting one from the long list it would reset back to the top.
Jones crawled into bed; Rachel was already asleep he believed. Finally resting his head on the pillow exhausted, silence at least. “How’d job searching go?” Jones realized Rachel wasn’t asleep yet. Click…click…click…click. “I found a job, pays well at sixty-seven grand. It’s about three hours of a drive, located in Monoford.” “Oh, that’s wonderful Jones! What the job?” There was a moment of silence, Jones knew she wouldn’t like the answer. “A police officer for the city.” Click…click…click…click. Those words left Rachel in dismay. She didn’t know much about policing, but she knew it was a dangerous job. “Oh…that’s great hun.” Jones could sense the displeasure in her voice. Rachel turned over falling asleep. Click, click, click, click. “Anything yet Jones?”
Officer Gomez’s voice broke Jones train of thought. Jones had been sitting at the corner of liberty drive and mountain road watching the bridge. Gomez was up on the small hill of liberty drive behind Jones, waiting for a car to pull over. Jones had three years’ experience now and had recently finished his probation period of the job. Gomez was a good cop; he had much more experience with fifteen years on the job. Gomez was a good friend, inviting him and Rachel over for barbecues at his house. Always giving Jones pointers and teaching him as they went along the job. “No not yet Gomez, they’re being awfully careful as they cross that bridge.” “Yeah, the gun runners are used to us by now sitting in this area, they’ve learned to use caution after that big bust two months ago.”
Jones remembered that day, he was patrolling in Lower Alder when Gomez announced a traffic stop on mountain road of a jeep wrangler. The wrangler was going sixty-two as it crossed, the driver slammed on the breaks when he saw Gomez. Another officer was with Gomez and initiated the stop, two passengers that were all nervous. As Jones turned off 113th avenue onto mountain road the wrangler tried to drive off from the stop. After a short pursuit they crashed into a tree near the border with the rural area. The driver was ejected out from the car, the passenger tried to make a run for it but Gomez tased him. Jones remembered the driver laying on the ground after flying through the windshield. It was a miracle the bastard was still alive. They recovered several AUG’s and AK47’s from the vehicle. After Jones had moved to the city the gun business exploded. Several gangs had begun illegally producing guns selling them to the gangs focused on drugs. Capitalism at its finest. Last year was the deadliest for the Monoford police department, they had lost six officers alone from gunfire. Several other officers transferred away from the city looking for jobs in other areas. Detectives worked the streets trying to find the factories the weapons were produced in.
“Yeah they’re getting smarter, we can try here for another thirty minutes, then we can try that spot in Lower Alder.” “Sounds good, we should stop at Ronnie’s and grab something.” Jones smirked when Gomez mentioned Ronnie’s, he knew Gomez would down three triple patty burgers within a minute. Jones couldn’t imagine how his body worked to handle that much grease and not gain a single pound. Jones looked at the picture of his wife on the dashboard, bringing him back into his daydream. Click…click…click…click.
That evening before work Rachel was frustrated with him. Their son Frank had recently entered the terror phase, three years old. Everything was ‘mine’; he grabbed several cookies off the counter eating them one by one until Jones grabbed them away from him. Rachel hated the hours and didn’t realize this was the most difficult part for her of being married to a police officer. Jones would leave at eight at night and wouldn’t return home until 4 in the morning the next day. After that he slept for about eight hours, giving her and Frank little of his spare time. Click…click…click…click.
Jones daydream ended, the speed radar lighting up eighty-eight. “Gomez red lancer about to pass us, eighty-eight.” Jones heard Gomez’s engine roar awake as the car drove down the hill. The red lancer turned into Lower Alder on 113th avenue, two tires came off the ground, the other two let out a loud squeak. “Delta two traffic stop on a red lancer, turning onto 69th street.” Jones heard Gomez’s voice over the radio. Jones followed behind, the lights of their patrol cars lit up the neighborhood of red and blue. The sound of the engines roaring louder, the red lancer wasn’t slowing down. “Delta two that red lancer isn’t stopping, in pursuit on 69th street heading towards 121st avenue.” The radio woke up from the silence of the slow night, units began to announce they were responding. They passed the fire station, the engines and sirens screaming waking up the night, the headlights lighting up the road in front, the emergency lights flashing the area in blue and red. The wind howled as it hit the car, the speed increasing, 62, 67, 72, 80. Jones heart began to race faster as he felt the adrenalin consume him.
Jones could see the red lancer in front of Gomez’s charger. His older crown victorian had a difficult time keeping up with the two of them. He was promised a charger earlier that year, but he knew it took Gomez seven years until he got his charger. The department was slow at replacing the older models. “The vehicle is turning right onto 142nd avenue.” Gomez’s voice was strong over the radio, he was able to control his anxiety well. Jones could feel the blood pumping throughout his whole body, his heart beating faster. “Turning onto President Bay.” The red lancer hit the sidewalk with a boom. The lancer bounced onto the front lawn of one of the houses. “Vehicle’s stopping, 6th President Bay.” Gomez angled his car to the lancer, Jones pulled up on Gomez’s right side angling his car. Gomez was the first out of his car; Jones saw him raising his pistol. The driver of the red lancer jumped out raising a rifle towards Gomez.
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, the echoes of gun fire exploded as the automatic rifle of the suspect fired upon Gomez. “Shots fired shots fired President Bay need backup!” Jones called out into the radio. His heart beat rapidly, and the blood rushed throughout his body. A voice in the back of his mind called out to him, turn off the engine. Jones remembered his captain stressed this after several cars had been stolen. Bang…bang…bang, Jones got out as quickly as he could pulling his pistol from his holster, aiming down sights he could tell he was shaking. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. He had never been in a shootout. Jones felt his training take over his body. Boom, boom, boom. Aiming the pistol at the center of the suspect he put his finger on the trigger. The suspect wasn’t facing him, he had been facing the direction of Gomez. Boom, boom, boom. Approaching sirens screamed, Jones heard none of them though. His mind was focused on the suspect, boom…boom… …boom…boom. Jones opened fire; he didn’t even notice the sound of his Glock. Bang…bang…bang, bang.
The suspect dropped the gun and fell to the ground. Jones looked over to his left to Gomez, he was no longer standing there. Coming back to reality Jones realized only a few seconds had passed. His heartbeat felt like a race horse. The sounds of sirens grew louder. Jones ran behind Gomez’s car keeping his head down, he found Gomez lying there on his back. “Gomez, Gomez can you hear me?” No response, Jones noticed the several holes that had pierced Gomez. “Officer down at President Bay!” Jones voice wailed into the radio. Jones ran over to the suspect who had lurched over onto his side. Jones kept his gun aimed on the suspect, rolling the suspect onto his back with one hand he handcuffed the man. “Suspect is down, two casualties need EMS.” Jones looked over at the weapon the suspect dropped, it was an AUG. Grabbing it he placed it onto the hood of Gomez’s car.
Gomez was shot several times in the abdominal area; Jones hands shook fiercely as he grabbed bandages from the first aid kit in Gomez’s car door. Jones touched Gomez’s neck which was turning white, he could feel a weak pulse. Jones began to shake, and his heart beat faster. He wasn’t going to let Gomez die on that street. The sounds of sirens grew louder, Jones saw the headlights approaching quickly. Jones hand began to go numb as he held the bandage on Gomez’s wounds. Murder of a police officer, the words floating in his head as he stared at the suspect. Jones could feel the bandage becoming wet as he held it on the wound, grabbing another bandage he placed it on top. His heart raced harder in his chest. Two patrol cars arrived at once, one of the officers ran to the suspect and began to give the suspect aid. Jones didn’t realize but a crowd of residents had gathered around them. One officer tried to gain control of the crowd to push them back.
Wee-whoo wee-whoo¸ Jones recognized the distinct siren as the ambulance grew closer. The red and white lights lighting up the neighborhood that was luminated by porch lights and the red and blue lights. The ambulance pulled up behind the patrol cars, two medics rushed out towards the scene. One medic came over to him, “We’ll take it from here sir, we need you to step aside.” The medic placed his hand onto the bandage that Jones placed on Gomez, Jones hands was unrelenting to let go of his friend, but he knew the medic would be able to take care of him better. Another ambulance roared onto scene, two more medics hopped out, grabbing a stretcher from the back and rushing towards Gomez. Jones looked to his hands realizing they were soaked with blood, he assumed it was from Gomez, but wondered if any of it was from the suspect. His hands shook and his heart continued to race.
More officers arrived on scene; one man ran past the officers that were attempting to set up a perimeter. Jones recognized the man; they had several calls to one of the houses that the guy was renting here. The man’s name was Hank Robin. He saw things and heard things, calling the police almost daily. The man made a run for Jones car, the door still wide open. Shit, the engine, Jones forgot to turn it off. Jones made a run for the car, the man attempted to get into the front seat, Jones was able to snag onto his arm. “It’s my destiny, the spirits have spoken to me it is my role to arrest those damn neighbors that try to poison me. You guys never listen to my calls!” Jones ignored Hanks voice, pulling his arm he was able to pull him out of the vehicle. Another officer came behind Jones the three of them wrestled on the ground. The other officer was able to get handcuffs on Hank while Jones held Hanks arms. The officer dragged Hang to the side of his car, searching him for weapons or drugs. Hank went on a tangent yelling words Jones couldn’t understand, if they were words at all. The adrenalin was still racing throughout his body. Jones realized the other officer as Tim Kimbers, he was only on the force for one year longer than Jones. Tim was well built and was able to easily control situations with his raw strength alone. Jones looked to his car and turned off his engine. He sighed with relief at the close call.
Jones left the scene untouched for the crime scene investigations that would be investigating the shooting. He wiped his hands that were still soaked with blood onto a washcloth he kept in his car. More headlights appeared; Jones recognized it as the captain driving his patrol SUV. Jones was thankful that Captain Young was on shift, the other captain was known for his strictness and lack of empathy. Young on the other hand was more understanding of the officers, but still ensured things got done by the book. Captain Young approached Jones, “You alright officer Dennis?” “Physically yeah, mentally a bit shook up.” It was an understatement, his heart inside was racing and he feared for Gomez life. Perhaps the worse thought in his mind was that could’ve been him. Jones knew Gomez wasn’t dead, yet at least from feeling his pulse. Part of him hoped when he got off, he could hide it from Rachel, but he knew that wasn’t going to be possible. “I want a detailed report written up about what happened, with protocol you’ll be put under investigation and suspended with pay until things get sorted out. Crime scene will be here shortly, and they’ll process the scene. I’ll also need your weapon for evidence.” The captain held his hand out, Jones grabbed his gun, looking at it as he became disarmed and handed it to the captain. Jones tried to wrap his head around everything the captain said, he could hear the beat of his heart racing in his chest. “I know it’s hard, head to the station and get yourself cleaned up. The chaplain will be there for you to talk to. Also, call your family, let them know you’re okay. A lot of misinformation will be floating around, and they need to hear from you.” “Alright sir,” Jones nodded his head and walked to his patrol vehicle taking a deep breath to regain control of his body. It was no use though, his hands trembled as he opened the door.
Jones went and called Rachel; the phone rang for awhile before going to voicemail. It was two in the morning, she most likely was asleep. “Hey Rachel, I wanted to let you know I’m alright, I got some stuff I have to do at the station then I’ll be home.” Jones mind was still scrambled, his heart beat rapidly, and he was still shaking. Taking one last deep breathe Jones started the engine. It was a maze to leave the scene, turning off his emergency lights he drove back to the police station. The image of Gomez on the street, the man firing the gun, boom, boom, boom, boom, the sound of the automatic fire was burned into his brain.
Jones pulled into the police garage, parking the car he noticed the chaplain was waiting for him holding the door open. The Monoford police department offered skilled professionals for traumas like these, but Jones couldn’t help thinking it was a negative trait. Having the best professionals to deal with our officer’s mental state being scrambled like an egg while dealing with the crime in our city. That might as well have been the departments motto. Jones turned off the engine and took one last deep breath before exiting his vehicle. His heart still racing in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to write the report on it all, and then talk with the professionals afterwards. Worse of all, he would have to return home to Rachel and tell her the story. Jones slammed the door shut and walked through the door the chaplain held open to begin his next journey.
