The Weigh Station

As he pull into the weigh station, he slowed his speed to the weigh station speed limit. As he passed over the static plate before the split, he breathed a sigh of relief; his load was light, and it would register to the weighmaster inside that he was within legal standards by a large margin. Usually, at this point, they would give the driver the ability to bypass, and then the driver can return to the interstate. However, The arrow overhead pointed to the right, signalling him to go over the scale. Frustrated, he veered right, and slowed down to 5 mph so he could pass through the scanner situated right before the scale. Passing through the scale, he stopped at the stop sign as directed before pulling onto the scale.

Lining up his truck, he made sure he was lined up in the center of the scale, then stop when the red light came on. He sat there for seemed to be a rather long time, then heard the crackle of the speaker next to his driver window. "Driver, pull around to the back and bring in your paperwork," the voice said. Nodding his head, he pulled forward, and veered right to park his truck. Getting ready to swing into a spot, a DOT officer stood there waiting for him. Upon rolling down his window, the officer said, "Driver, hand me your license please. We're going to do an inspection on you."

"Yes, sir," the driver replied, handing over his license. The officer took it from him, looked at it, and stated, "You're a ways from home, driver. Where ya headed with this load?"

"Chicago area, sir," he replied.

"You got your bills of lading?" the officer asked.

"Yes, sir," he said, handing over his paperwork.

The officer looked it over, nodded, and handed it back. "Driver, we're going to do a vehicle inspection on your truck. Just follow my commands and we'll getcha outta here quick."

"Absolutely," the driver said, a note of hope in his voice. "Just tell me what you need me to do, sir."

The officer went through the process of checking all of the front lights, wipers and horns on the truck, the went to the back of the tractor. He checked the lights under the tractor, then walked back to the trailer, where he repeated the process once more. Coming back up to the trailer, he told the driver, "Driver, come on in, the inspection's done. We'll get your inspection report finished, and then you can leave."

"Thank you sir," the driver replied, shutting off his engine. Climbing out of the cab, he followed behind the officer into the building. The officer walked behind the counter, looked at the driver and said, "Have a seat on the bench. It'll take about 5 minutes to get the report finished. Use the bathroom if you need to."

The driver nodded, then went to the bench and sat down. Looking around, he was slightly impressed with the level of technology he saw in this little building. Computerized scales, scanner technology, and touch screens sat below the front window of the station, and every couple of minutes he saw another truck come over the scales, stop, then get waved on. As the officer came up with the inspection report, he noticed another truck pulling on the scale. This truck had two people up front, and he thought he saw a third one duck back away from the passenger window. The scalemaster saw it as well, and smirked. "Guess what, Kendall? he said to the other officer.

"Whatcha got, Joey?" Kendall asked.

"Unseatbelted passenger, male, looks to be in his thirties. He ducked back when he saw where he was," Joey replied.

"Middle Eastern type?" Kendall asked.

"Yeah, and the driver and passenger are, too. What do you think?" Joey asked.

"Somebody should have been paying closer attention," Kendall replied. "Bring him around. We'll take it from there."

Turning back, he said, "Driver, you got a clean inspection. Just sign here and we'll give you a copy and get you outta here."

"Thank you, sir," the driver replied. He turned to the truck just pulling off the scale, coming around the back. "What about these guys?"

Kendall smiled. "Bad luck on his part. Needs to be belted in, even in the back. We'll check 'em out, and if everything's good, we'll just get the passenger a written warning. Gotta be careful about these guys. Most of them will claim racial profiling if you get too tough with them."

The driver smiled."Yeah, met a few of them. Some are nice enough, but most of 'em are self-righteous. Just be careful, sir."

"Absolutely, driver," Kendall beamed. "You be safe out there."

"You too, sir."

He returned to his truck, passing two of the three guys from the other truck. Wonder where the third one is, he thought, as he climbed in and shut the door. Firing up the diesel, he released the brakes, put his truck in gear, and made sure his log was right. Once he was satisfied, he took his foot off the brake, and started rolling forward.

The first driver bolted out of the building, nearly tripping over the curb as he rounded the swing of the door. The second guy followed, a gun in his hand. The officer, one hand on his gun, the other on his radio, followed shortly after. The first guy climbed up the passenger side of his truck, shouting into the truck. The second guy climbed up the driver side as the third guy that was hiding in the back produced a rifle and started firing at the trooper. The first shot went high, and the driver pulled the brake knobs as he went for his seat belt. The passenger resighted, the second shot ringing from the barrel. The officer screamed, the bullet catching him midthigh, causing him to drop to the pavement. Doors closed on the rig, the other drivers sped off around the weigh station. A third shot rang out, catching the officer in the chest. He fell backwards, rolling with the force of the impact. The driver, trying to focus, realized the other truck left, and came out his truck, running towards the officer. Noticing the blood, he made sure to be careful not to step in it, reaching the officer in a matter of seconds.

The scene up close was a bit more gruesome than he realized, seeing the officer's leg in a fountain of blood. Ripping off his shirt, he bound the officer's leg as best as he could. Checking the officer over, he noticed the officer groan in pain.

"Officer, I need to roll you over. I need to see how bad it is," he shouted to him.

"It's nothing here, it caught the vest," the officer replied. "How bad's the leg?"

"Looks like it shattered the bone, and I used my shirt to bind it up. Don't try to move while I call 911," he told him.

"Check on the other officer while you're on the phone. Joey got hit, and I don't know how bad. GO!" he cried.

Grabbing his phone, the driver ran into the building while dialing, and the operator responded as he came into the door. "911, where is the emergency?"

"I'm a truck driver here at the first weigh station in Missouri. I have officers down at this location, one outside, one in." His gaze went to the scalemaster, slumped forward in his seat, a large hole in the back of his head. "The officer inside is DOA, gunshot wound to the head." Turning back around and leaving out, he replied, "The officer outside took two hits, one in the left leg, the other in chest. The femur bone looks to be broken, and he's lost a lot of blood. I've attempted to bandage the wound with my shirt, but I don't know how long it will hold up, he's starting to look pale."

"Understood, we have rescue and state police enroute. Caller, please remain on the line while we get some more information from you. Also, see if there is anything close by you can use to make a splint."

"I don't think that I'm in a position to find anything to splint with. I'm in the middle of the back parking lot with an officer bleeding to death. C'mon, how long before this ambulance shows up?" he shouted.

"Calm down sir, rescue is two minutes out. Keep pressure on the wound on his leg. Is there a chest wound?" the operator asked.

"I don't think so," the driver replied. "He said it caught him in the vest. Probably a good bet that he might have a broken rib or two, judging from the way he rolled." He looked down at the officer, shaking with adrenaline. "What else do I need to do here?"

"Just keep pressure on his leg. That's the most important thing right now."

"Got it." He heard the sirens getting closer. "I hear sirens getting closer. Which one is first, police or rescue?"

"One patrol unit, then ambulance is 30 seconds behind," the operator assured him.

"Good. Let the officer know I am behind the building in the middle of the lot, please be careful coming around the corner," he spoke with concern. "I don't want to be another casualty in this fiasco."

"Understood, sir," the operator replied, as the first siren approached the ramp. He watched the officer zip through the bypass lane, and slowed down as he came around the corner. Stopping in front of him, the squad car skid to a halt about 20 feet away.