Wrath

Part Fourteen: Strange Tales of Bravery

Friday, September 27th, 7:48 PM

Detective Parks, 32, was filling out paperwork while he waited for the boss, Police Chief Partridge, to finish his meeting at CYFD.

He'd been requested by the Chief himself, though he didn't know why. So he'd driven Partridge to the CYFD offices. He figured maybe he was done in Robbery-Homicide after screwing up so bad. Maybe this was a test run. If he was meant to be a driver, he would quit. Even if that's what they wanted. He just wouldn't do it.

This late, the offices were closed and minimal lights were on. Parks was straining to see as he filled out forms. The lady behind the reception desk -a pretty dark skinned woman Parks had noted, with shining eyes and a severe bun that looked like it might hurt- was sitting quietly, humming to herself. She was getting some rare overtime, so she was in fairly good spirits. Parks had half talked himself into chatting her up and was half risen when they were suddenly engulfed in light. For a split second, Parks thought the overheads had suddenly come to life.

Then he heard the engine and saw the car coming right at them. It smashed through the glass doors, sending glass shrapnel everywhere. Parks grabbed the pretty lady and pulled. The car smashed into the desk and destroyed it, catching the woman's ankle and pinning her. She let out a scream and Parks lost his grip on her.

As he scrambled to help her, the driver side door popped and swung open on squealing hinges.

Parks tried to react, but was too slow. The idea that it was an attack had never occurred to him. A mallet came down on his head, making his thoughts scrambled and floaty. His vision turned kaleidoscopic and he fell forward, eyes glazing over.

The attacker must have thought him dead, because he left him there and headed down the hall, towards the sound of running feet and exclamations.

Parks heard a gun go off and wondered briefly if the Chief got off a few shots. He saw the girl, her eyes wide. He tried to speak to her, but he could only gurgle.  His head hurt for some reason.

He started to lose consciousness, but forced a finger into his mouth and bit it, the pain yanking him back and somewhat lifting the fog.

He tried to stand, but something was wrong. He couldn't coordinate his own movements. They were jerky and weak.

He was having a hard time remembering what had happened, and it scared him. Badly. The girl watched him, her face tight with pain and terror.

He tried standing again and managed to lurch to his feet. The girl continued to watch him, her eyes so wide it was mind of funny.

He heard more shots and reached for his service pistol only to find it gone. It'd been taken

So the shots might not be Partridge's after all.

Parks took a few lurching steps. His mind kept fogging up and he lost focus. But when it did, the pretty girl's eyes flashed in his mind and he moved forward.

He passed several people on the ground. Shot and beaten. Parks' vision darkened and he bit his finger again. He grunted in pain but it helped. He couldn't tell if they were alive or not. He had to keep going.

The only thought he could keep in his head was stopping the shooter. Anytime that faltered, that girl's eyes came again and steeled him. How did she do that? He wondered.

He shambled down the hall. He could hear voices, but not what was being said.

He came to an open door and peered in. Partridge was on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot to his abdomen. He saw Parks and his eyes widened, rather like the girl's had.

The shooter was threatening a man with the gun. It looked like he'd busted the guy's kneecaps with a mallet he carried. Is that what happened to me? He wondered.

He pulled out a small taser. One of those kinds for women, he supposed. It was just two prongs you jammed into someone's body and let them have it. Probably 15,000 volts. Not like the ones the department had. But he kept this one on him cause he was paranoid about not having a weapon, and getting caught using a knife, even in self-defense, was a good way to get black marks in your jacket. 

He pushed the door open, the sound covered by the CYFD guy's sobbing.

The CYFD guy -the director, or something- saw him and again the eyes widened.

The shooter saw this and started to turn. Parks, as slow as he was, managed to hit him with the taser. It dropped the man to his knees, but didn't knock him out. He saw the mallet drop from nerveless fingers and the Chief, as weak as he was, grabbed it and swung it as hard as he could into the man's side. Bones crunched and the man went down, breathing raggedly.

The Chief, white as paper from blood loss, looked at Parks and said "Good God, son." before passing out.

Parks stepped on the man's gun hand, felt bones snap, then tried to kick the gun away. He nearly lost his balance.

Suddenly there were people everywhere and someone took Parks by the arm and led him to a table.

This person muttered, "Fuuuuuuuuuck!" when he looked at Parks. This reaction was starting to piss him off. He tried to shove the guy away, but the motion made his vision darken at the edges again.

"No can do, chief." The man said. And it took Parks a moment to realise he was talking to him and not Partridge.

He tried to talk again, but still only a bubbling sound came out. The man looked at him. He was an older gentleman, dark skinned with grizzled cheeks. He had kind eyes behind spectacles.

"Goddamn, man. How the hell were you still walking?" This man asked him. Parks noticed he was wearing a uniform. Fire department?

Once more he made that bubbling sound, this time with some added gurgling.

"Boy, you should be dead. Your brain is leaking out your head! Now shut it and let me work!"