Richard Stephenson - Collapse

Deputy Sunglasses had a smile on his face and put his hand on Max’s shoulder. “Chief, Chief, Chief…slow down. Max, tell me what’s going on. You don’t have to worry about anything, my boys and…”

“Son, take your fucking hand off my shoulder before I break it. I am the chief of police of this town and you will address me as such. Just because I let you boys come in here and play police officer so you can get an adrenaline hard-on does not mean that you’re in charge of jack-shit. How old are you, son? And take those fucking glasses off before I knock them off.”

“I’m twenty-six, Chief. I’m sorry, I just wanted to help.” Deputy Sunglasses looked like a kid who had just been spanked in front of his friends at his own birthday party. He took off the sunglasses and looked at the ground.

“You were in fucking elementary school when I was a rookie. So learn some respect. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Chief.”

“What are you assholes looking at? Don’t you have someplace to be?” The other three deputies were frozen solid and speechless. They quickly snapped out of it, jumped back in their vehicles and sped off.

“What’s your name, son?” Max looked at the deputy sheriff.

“I’m Deputy Eugene Shacklewood.”

“May I call you Eugene?” Max looked at the young man and waited for him to make eye contact.

“Yes, Chief. Uh… my friends call me Gene.”

“Ok, Gene it is. Look at me, Deputy. You got an ass chewing. Get over it, I’ve been doing this for twenty-one years, and I’m amazed I have an ass left. I don’t have time for you to pout. I need you to focus and get in the game. The stakes are high, and I need you.”

Deputy Shacklewood puffed up his chest and clenched his jaw. “Yes sir, Chief, you can count on me.”

“Good. The reason you and your boys were called out here was some angry, pistol totin’ citizens were trying to muscle their way in for some extra gas. My team here was not willing to let that happen. They drove off and returned a few minutes later, firing three shots at the gas station. They said they would be back with friends.”

“Holy shit, Chief. That’s crazy! What do you need me to do?”

“You see that uniformed officer over there? That’s Deputy McGee, the team leader here. Check in with him and try to show some respect this time.”

“Yes sir, Chief. Again, I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

“Don’t mention it; now get to work.”

Max stood under the awning in front of the entrance and called each of his other stations for a status report. The rain and wind continued to worsen. The city garage was down to eighty-seven vouchers. His gas station had a hundred and two. The other two stations had thirty-six and sixty-four. This was going along smoothly, Max thought; people were getting gas and getting the hell out of Dodge. He just hoped there wouldn’t be many in line when they ran out of gas. That’s when things would get ugly. The gas station with only thirty-six vouchers left to redeem had walked the line and counted off the last car. Most of the unlucky cars turned around and left. The ones that stayed understood they were taking a risk but were willing to gamble on a few drops of gas remaining after the rush was over.

“Excuse me, Chief? I just wanted shake your hand and say thank you.” An elderly man in his seventies had walked over to Max. “I asked that nice man if he could pump my gas for me so I could come over and speak with you.”

Max accepted the handshake with a smile. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. You are the first person to actually offer any gratitude for my master plan, whatever good it will do.”

The elderly man understood the subtle sarcasm. “You mean that most of these people won’t make it past Houston?”

Max was shocked. “Yes, may I ask how you know that?”

“Well, unless they open up I-45 before the loop somehow, most of these people will be stuck in a very large parking lot on the interstate.”

“Well, let’s just say I want our people to at least have a fighting chance. You evacuating? I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Alfred. Yes, I’m evacuating, but I’m going to head west towards San Antonio. Figured I like my chances better further inland as opposed to drowning on this side when the Gulf comes pouring in.” Alfred shifted his weight onto his cane and coughed into his sleeve.

“Not the best idea, but I understand your reasonin…”

Three short beeps on his radio interrupted the conversation. An emergency message was about to follow. Max tensed up and focused.

“All radio units, we have shots fired at the city garage. Two gunmen have opened fire, two injured, one dead. Officers on scene have returned fire. Chief Harris, please acknowledge.”

“Copy that. I want all uniformed officers to assign another member of their team to take charge. Units 1-2 and 1-3, I want you to set up at the exit to the garage. County boys, I want you to block off the entrance and do your best to get civilians out of harm’s way. Take instruction from Sergeant Reed until I arrive.”

“Gene! Let’s go! Keys! Now!”

Deputy Shacklewood tossed the keys to his cruiser to the Chief, and they jumped in and sped off. Max dug in his front shirt pocket and kicked back three pills. Eugene didn’t notice.

Three short beeps.

“Be advised, we have an officer down. One gunman is presumed dead. The second is barricaded on the second floor of the garage admin office.”

Maxwell Harris knew he had a second at best to make up his mind. Either freak out and get scared, or get angry and let adrenaline take over. He concentrated on the second gunman and let rage focus his mind. As they approached the scene, he could see lights flashing at both the entrance and exit to the garage. Good, that’s covered. A second cruiser was fast approaching from the opposite end of the street. Soaked and frightened citizens were running all over the place, screaming, terrified. Max witnessed at least three traffic accidents right in front of him as cars smashed into each other in an attempt to speed away from the scene. Chief Harris ducked behind cars and made his way to the entrance of the garage. Keeping the second floor of the admin building directly above and out of his line of sight, he snuck behind some boxes and peeked over the top, trying to scan the concrete yard of the garage. Through the rain he could see an officer lying face down, a pool of blood underneath. He couldn’t tell who the officer was; whoever it was had on a hat and was wearing a yellow rain jacket. The person was alive, he could see movement. About ten feet away was a motionless lump; Max knew immediately that it was one of the gunmen. The officer had shot the piece of shit dead, but not before he fired off a lucky shot in return.

Max keyed up his radio. “This is Chief Harris on scene. All units, respond in sequence with status and location.”

“This is 1-2; 1-3 and I are covering the exit.”

“County 6, all of my men are at the entrance.”

Elizabeth .

“1-1, this is 1-0, respond.”

Shit .

“1-1, this is 1-0, Sergeant Reed, please respond.”

Please no .

“Talk to me people, anyone seen Elizabeth? Is that her in the middle of the yard?”

“1-0, this is 1-2. When we arrived on scene and secured the exit, I tried to get to the fallen officer. That asshole’s on the second floor taking shots at anyone that comes near.”

“That’s right, mother fuckers.”

“Repeat! Who is this? Identify yourself!” Max screamed into the radio.

“I’m the asshole on the second floor. Anyone tries to help the pig that shot my brother is in for a surprise.”

Max was missing something. Clearly something was not adding up. He looked across the yard to the fallen officer and could see and hear the radio on the person’s hip. How does this guy have a radio? Max quickly pulled out his smartphone and called the station. The phone rang at the desk, and Kathy Phillips answered.