Chapter 2

     I open the door to my 2004 BMW 3 series and start the engine, put it in reverse and back out of my drive way. I flick on the radio and skim through the channels. Nothing really good is on, but then I come across this news channel.

     "...rising after being shot point blank in the chest from a twelve gauge." The reporter says, "the attacker was unconscious for around five minutes, paramedics were assessing the situation when the attacker bit one of the paramedics on the neck. The attacker then rose and attempted to bite another paramedic but was shot by a nearby police officer, and then subdued. The paramedic is now in critical condition in the ICU." I flicked the radio off.

     "Probably just another crack addict on the verge of overdosing." I said to myself.

     "But overdosing doesn't mean that you can live after a point blank shot from a twelve gauge. Police carry buckshot in their shotguns. From point blank the spread wouldn't have gotten very dispersed. It'd be like taking a shot from a rail gun through the chest." I contemplated.

     "What the fuck was wrong with him?"

I brush the topic from my mind, it really wasn't worth my time. I pull into the therapists building and walk in.

     "Good morning, Avery." I say to the secretary. She moves her brunette hair out from in front of her eyes. "I'm here to see Dr. Hope. As always." I say, and roll my eyes.

     "Right, she's down the hall on the left, Mr. Stanley. As always." She says playing along. I give her a smile and head down the hall. Her door was open. I walk in and knock on the frame.

     "Jack, here." I say.

     "Ah, Jack. Come in, have a seat. How've you been?" She says raising her glasses to get a better view of me. I walk into her office, decorated with pictures of her family on beige colored walls. Her furniture all a deep brown.

     "I've been better, but, I guess I'm okay. The past six months have been pretty hard without her. The house is never really clean anymore. She used to always say a clean house is a happy house, but I'm not happy so why should the house be clean?" I ask her rhetorically.

     "Any nightmares?" She asks.

     "No, not since last time, but her picture does bring back memories from that day."

      "I understand it holds sentimental value, Mr. Stanley, but it may be time to let it go. That may be the one thing tethering you to the past." I let out a long sigh.

     "You may be right, doctor, but that's just not something I'm ready for. That picture was taken right after the first time I told her I loved her." I say looking at the floor. "I did love her. I loved her with everything that I had in me." The tears started to come. "But that everything wasn't enough to save her." A single tear fell from my cheek.

     "Jack, you're a great man, you did all that you could to help those people."

     "I didn't do enough. I could've found a way to stop him. I could've saved her and the three others that died. I could've stopped the other 5 from getting injured. A little girl lost her right arm and two fingers on her left hand, Hope. A little girl." My breathing becomes heavy.

     "Jack, over the past six months that I've come to know you, I've seen a tremendous change. You came into my office on the first day looking like a wreck. You were on the verge of suicide. You didn't say that you were, but you didn't have too. You were dead on the inside. Now, I'm almost ready to give you the okay to join the police force again."

     I look up at her. "I don't want the police force back, Hope. I want the love of my life back. I want Lauren back."

     "I have a strong sense of empathy for you, Jack. I do. All I can do is assure you that with time, all wounds will heal, physical and mental."

     "Can I go now, doc? I think I need to get some air." I asked. She simply nodded and pointed to the calendar on her wall for the next appointment.

     I walked out and said bye to Avery. I opened my car door and climbed in. I grab the steering wheel and squeeze it until my knuckles start to turn white.

     "FUCK!" I punch the dash. Once. Twice. Three times. I lay my head on the top of the steering wheel and sit there for what felt like hours, staring at my knees and the floor board.

      The sudden sound of sirens snapped me out of my daze. I sit up and look in my rear view mirror, two police cars bolt down the highway behind me.

     I turn the ignition and put the transmission in reverse and pull out of the parking lot. I roll the window down to hear the sounds of the sirens.

     I follow them down the highway and almost out of the city. They turn down this awkwardly placed dirt road. "What the hell?" I say out loud.

     I turn in and slowly make my way down the road. Four cruisers are parked outside of an old looking farm house.

     A window was shattered and the door was hanging on by the bottom hinge. A horse laid in the middle of the yard, its legs nothing but bone. A huge chunk was missing from its neck.

     I suppressed the urge to vomit. "What on Gods green earth?" I open the door to my car and the smell hits me immediately. A smell I've come to know too well. Death.

     I walk to one of the cruisers that just arrived. I was happy to see a familiar face. "Dale, you big son of a bitch, what is going on here?"

     "Jack?" He asks. A smile crosses his face as I greet him with a firm hand shake. "We got a call from one of the neighbors around here. She reported gunshots and screaming."

     "Who else is here?"

     "The chief, Danny, and Cole." The chief, that old dog, has gray hair coming out of every follicle on the top of his head. He's been in the game longer than any other cop I've ever met.

     Danny, he was a recruit when the bank robbery happened. A kid just looking to help people.

     Cole, a man of honor. He served in Iraq as a pilot. Although, we never saw each other, word of his actions spread through the ranks. He stayed grounded, taking heavy fire and risking his life to wait on two men. One had to drag the other. The man had lost his leg to an IED.

     "A real shit show happening here, huh?"

     "Oh yeah, I mean, who has the heart to do something like that to a helpless animal?" He asks rhetorically, nodding his head towards the horse.

     "I don't know, man, but whoever..." A scream interrupts me. Dale and I both look towards the door. The darkness gets illuminated for a short few seconds, the light followed immediately by the cracks of gunfire. We run to the house, Dale unholsters his 9mm. I pull out the knife that I always carry, just in case.

     He goes into the door first, I follow a few seconds after. The windows are shuttered, light barely making it into the house. Dale turns on his flashlight. We're in a hallway. There's a door to our left and a right leads into the kitchen.

     0Chief, where are you guys?" Dale asks out loud.

    "The living room, call an ambulance, we have an officer down." He replies.

     Dale pulls his walkie from his shoulder and radios for a ambulance. We continue through the kitchen. Dale slips but catches himself on the counter. "What the hell?"

     He shines his flashlight towards the ground and there's a pool of blood covering the tile.

     "The fuck is wrong with these people?" I ask aloud. Dale clears his throat and continues.

     We step into the living room and see a man dressed in overalls splayed across the floor. Danny sits in a nearby recliner with his head in his hands. Chief is beside the couch bent down. I walk over. There laying on the ground in a pool of blood is Cole.

     He's clutching chiefs hand, struggling to breath. Chief is holding a cloth to his neck.

     0He's drowning in his own blood. Where the fuck is that ambulance, Dale?" He asks.

     "It's on its way, chief." I kneel down next to Cole. His once dark brown skin now a shade of light brown. He looks into my eyes. Tears falling down his cheeks.

     He lets go of chiefs hand and grasps mine. He tries to say something. It's garbled. I tell him not to speak but he doesn't listen. He always was a stubborn ass. He tightens his grip on my hand. I kneel down closer.

     "Tell... tell my wi... fe I love her." His words are cut apart by breaths.

     "I won't have to, you're gonna make it through this man." I say. He smiles, and his breathing slows. His grip loosens until his hand eventually becomes limp.

     I run my hand over his eyes to close them. A heavy feeling falls over the room.

     Everyone is silent for what feels like forever. The faint sound of sirens can be heard wailing in the distance. They were too late.

     A ruffling comes from behind us. I turn my head, the farmer, his chest riddled with bullet holes, is trying to get to his feet. I'm completely in shock. There's no way that this is possible.

    He stands up and makes this scratching noise in his throat. Danny stands up, raises his pistol and fires his entire clip into the man, screaming. Every bullet hit center mass. All it did was make the farmer stumble back a few inches.

    The room fell silent, besides the noises of the farmer. All the sudden he let out a shriek and charged Danny. The officer yelped and slipped his charge just in time. He runs straight into the wall, but turns around and stares directly at me. He charges.

     I don't move. Everything seems to go into slow motion. His arms outstretch and his fingers clawing the air. I move the knife to my left hand, duck and side step to the right at the very last moment.

     I draw the blade across his abdomen from his left side to his right. That's when I noticed something was wrong. A liquid fell onto my hand. A liquid that should of been warm. His blood was cold.

    He falls over the arm of the couch and slowly stands back up. His entire abdomen sliced from side to side. His intestines bulging through the slice.

     He snarls and shrieks and charges once again. Dale swings his fire arm up and lines the sights between the farmers eyes and pulls the trigger. The bullet enters and exits along with chunks of brain that splatter the wall behind him. The farmer fumbles a few steps but falls to his knees and then completely over.

     Danny leans over and pukes. Chief just holsters his revolver and walks outside. Dale and I stand in place, trying to wrap our minds around what the fuck had just happened.