wild star| ongoing

seven

CHAPTER 7:
November 11th, 2015
• • •

It was eleven twenty-three and Keith was already exhausted.

There was one reason, and one reason only, why most people opted out of completing the graveyard shift in Highbridge. This area was notorious for its staggering poverty rates and crime, most of which reduced the borough's livability. Over the years, total crime had spiked, including violent and property crimes. The number of calls their precinct had received regarding homicides and assaults was through the roof. More often than not, he was the one responding to those calls, racing to the scene.

Being a police officer was far from easy. Many individuals might see his badge and assume that he had an unassailable position of authority, but in reality, he only took on this job because he needed to earn a living. Without a solid source of income, he couldn't survive, especially considering that he only had a high school diploma to his name. So, he had to put himself through two years of college and acquire an associate's degree in criminology, a decision he regretted.

He wasn't the only person he had to think about—Brandy needed to be supported as well.

He never imagined that all the effort he had put in would lead him to this moment: rushing down the street after receiving a domestic violence call from dispatch. The loud wail of the siren and the flashing blue and red lights were common sights in this neighborhood. It was classified as a code 2, meaning the situation required urgent attention.

"You don't have to drive this fast!" Keith took a sharp right turn, causing his partner, Maverick to crash into the door. Cars on the road began to slow down as they saw the flashing lights and heard the siren. Keith swerved between them, muttering obscenities and feeling his temper slip out of his control.

This job just made him so fucking angry. He couldn't be sure why, but rage thrummed in his veins.

"What's gotten into you, Keith?"

Keith didn't say anything in response, but instead, his eyes were fixed on the house from which the call had originated. It was a nondescript, one-story bungalow that blended in with the other homes in the neighborhood. The front door was slightly ajar and all the lights inside were turned on. Shadows could be seen moving past the windows as if trying to find a place to hide. Keith parked the police car on the side of the road, leaving the flashing lights on, and prepared himself for what he might find inside.

"Come on," he said, undoing his seatbelt, his gaze affixed on the house through the windshield. "They better not be fucking with us."

"Dispatchers said it was urgent, so I doubt it," Maverick responded. He unlocked his door and stepped out of the vehicle first, while Keith sat and observed the house for a few extra minutes.

They frequently received domestic violence calls that turned out to be non-serious in nature. It wasn't uncommon for them to respond to situations where a woman had gotten into an argument with her spouse over a trivial matter and tried to have him arrested out of spite.

"Keith, let's go. We can't waste any time." Maverick was still a rookie, fresh out of the academy and still naively hopeful that he could change the world by stopping one bad guy at a time. Keith had never been like him, but he appreciated his willingness to look on the bright side of things.

His partner's voice derailed his train of thought, and he exited the police cruiser too, passing Maverick a glance as if to say 'let's get this over with'. The both of them walked toward the house, then up the broad wooden porch. The eerie silence emanating from within the house put them both on edge, causing them to instinctively reach for the guns in their holsters. While their firearms were a last resort, they knew that being cautious could make all the difference in a potentially dangerous situation.