In the confusion, Gerke’s gun went off and the muzzle flare further blinded both of them. They tumbled down the stairs together like boulders in a landslide, Gerke, coming to rest on top of him at the bottom of the stairs. Charlie had smacked his head a good one and for a moment he thought he really did see stars, but soon realized they were remnants from the muzzle flash in the dark, spotting his vision. In a heartbeat, Gerke’s weight was lifted from him like a giant might pick up a car and toss it aside. He heard something big thud to the ground in the front room, not realizing it was the limp body of a now unconscious, Jeff Gerke.
There, in the dim light, Charlie got the first good look at their assailant. It was a girl! A young girl, maybe fifteen at the oldest. But her eyes – her eyes were wild, like an enraged animal. Blood red orbs, staring him down like he was the next meal. She lunged at him and he had just enough time to draw his gun up and pull the trigger.
He was sure he had hit her in the stomach as she pounced down on top of him, but the wound only seemed to enrage her that much more. She screamed some evil, inhuman scream and grabbed his shirt collar, dragging him into the front room.
His feet kicked uselessly at the hard wood floor while she dragged him and then gave him one final hurl into one of the two end tables that flanked the couch. He looked frantically for his gun, but he’d lost it somewhere when he was thrown across the room. In the distance, Charlie could hear the dog barking in the car, threatening to do to the patrol car what he did to the fence. The girl stopped her approach and hissed in the direction of the barking animal. It gave Charlie a chance to go for the back-up gun in his ankle holster, but the girl was on him before he could get his pant leg up. Luckily, his foot was in the air and he was able to catch her weight and push, letting her momentum carry her up and over him. She flopped down in the sunlit part of the room as he rolled up to his feet to face her. But her expression had turned from one of rage, to fright.
She looked down at the exposed skin of her arm. Tendrils of steam were beginning to peel away from her skin. She looked up at Charlie like a wide-eyed child wanting an answer to the unspoken question. He was at a loss for words as they both watched the wisps of steam trail off her body and tumble into the air above.
A cry of pain slowly seeped from her mouth and rose until she was at an ear shattering scream. With a flash of scorched air, her body erupted into flames like gasoline-soaked tinder. Charlie held his forearm in front of his face to guard against the pulsating heat. She sprinted from the room, screaming and igniting ever piece of furniture she came into contact with. The stench of seared flesh and burnt hair hung in the room and made him gag, but he soon realized that the room was filling up with smoke, too.
The drapes on the front windows were ablaze. The flames crawled up the wall and spread out across the ceiling. Some of the furniture in the room was also burning. The smoke burned in his eyes and throat. He could barely hear the girl’s screams above the roar of the flames. It was all he could do to find Gerke and drag him out the front door.
Charlie had dragged Gerke all the way to the sidewalk in front of the house when the other squads arrived on the scene. By the time the fire department and paramedics arrived, the house had flames shooting from every window, threatening the two houses on either side of it.
Charlie and Gerke were being seen to by the paramedics when Sergeant Teegs, the shift Sergeant, came over to check on them. “You two okay?” He asked. Teegs was well-liked among the officers. He was a stand-up cop that looked out for his officers. But looking into his forlorn face made Charlie all the more ashamed at having let Gerke call the shots. Teegs was angry and he had every right to be.
“I’m okay.” Charlie said.
“Okay.” Gerke said weakly from behind his oxygen mask. The paramedics already had him strapped into a gurney. They seemed anxious to get him loaded up and off to the hospital.
“Wanna tell me what happened?” Teegs asked.
Charlie told him. He didn’t exactly throw Gerke under the bus, but he made sure that Teegs knew Gerke was the one that wanted to go in and sent Charlie around the front. He hoped that being the lowest ranking officer in the situation would grant him a little leniency. But he doubted it would. He told Teegs everything else that happened except the part where the girl started on fire for no reason. He hardly believed that one himself. He didn’t know how to make Teegs believe it, especially since he was the only witness to it. Instead, he told Teegs she had a lighter and lit the place herself. He felt bad lying but it was either that or sign up for a one-way ticket to the psych ward.
People don’t just start on fire for no reason. And those eyes… He thought.
“Alright.” Teegs said with a heavy sigh. “But LT is on his way. I’ll try to slow him down a bit, but he’s pissed. Get ready for an ass-chewing.”
It wasn’t long before Teegs left that Lieutenant Johnson stormed up to them. “Are you kidding me?” He said through clenched teeth. He backed up and looked around to make sure that the public and reporters beyond the police line were out of ear-shot before he continued. “You two are a fucking PR nightmare, you know that?” What the hell are you trying to do to me? It was a dog barking.” He paused for emphasis. “A fucking dog barking! So, you break down the door and storm inside? What the hell is wrong with you?” The lieutenant was still trying to keep his voice low and checking over his shoulder every once in a while. God forbid his adoring public should ever hear how he really treated his officers.
“Sir, the door was open and there was blood all over the walls.” Charlie argued.
“I don’t give a damn if the killer was standing in the hallway with a bloody knife. You wait for backup! That’s procedure. Am I clear?”
“Yes.” Charlie was getting mad. Gerke looked too out of it to care. The combination of his recent unconsciousness and smoke inhalation gave him a drowsy look. His eyes were glassy and cold. He said nothing. But Charlie said more with his body language than anything else. The Lieutenant was taking on an increasingly dominant and disrespectful tone. Whether the LT was his commanding officer or not, Charlie had had just about enough of it.
“You know, you might have been hot stuff with your baby-killer unit in Afghanistan, Cutter, but we do things differently around here. Watch the tone you take with me or I’ll have your balls on a spit.” The Lieutenant paused once again for emphasis. He did that a lot. He also had a habit of chomping his gum loudly on one side of his mouth, which drove Charlie nuts. “We have procedure for a reason. There was evidence in that house. Evidence that would have been quite useful until you burned the God damn place down. Maybe even live victims.” Another pause. “I want your badges and your guns, now. You’re both on administrative leave until I sort this mess out.”
“I lost my gun, Sir.” Charlie said.
The Lieutenant’s eyes popped open. “You what? Where?”
“In there.” Charlie motioned towards the burning house as he slapped his badge down in the Lieutenant’s open hand. He tried not to smile when he saw the flush of red rise up the Lieutenant’s neck and one large, purple vein start throbbing in the center of his forehead. Charlie could almost imagine the steam that would have been shooting from his ears had he been a cartoon character.
The Lieutenant’s lips thinned out across his gritted teeth. “Get the fuck out of here. And take that damn dog to animal control when you get back to the station.”
Charlie didn’t respond. He didn’t want to give the LT the satisfaction. He simply stood up and walked away before his temper had a chance to really flare. The paramedics wheeled Gerke into the ambulance as quickly as they could and sped off.
With his adrenalin wearing off, the pain was setting in on Charlie. His hip, where the bullet was lodged, was aching. His head was pounding. His shoulder had been twisted pretty badly while he was wrestling with the girl. Or thrown around by the girl, was more like it. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Since becoming a cop, he had seen some people with elevated strengt
h levels, some that seemed impervious to pain. They were usually drunk beyond belief or hopped up on PCP. But that girl was off-the-charts strong. It was just too hard to believe.
He was lost in thought as he walked back to the patrol car. He had almost forgotten about the dog in the back seat. But the fogged over windows were a tell-tale sign that something inside had been panting up a storm. The whole car stank of dog breath when he got inside and he had to roll down the windows before he even dared to close his door. The big dog had his muzzle pressed against the cage in between the front and rear seats. Charlie unlatched the small hatch in the center of the cage so the dog could stick his head through, but he was too big and only succeeded in pushing his muzzle through the hole. Charlie smiled and patted his nose and the big dog seemed content with that. “Let’s get you somewhere that they can look at those cuts, big guy.” He gave the big nose one last pat and started the car.
He drove back to the station trying to think of anything else but the crazy eyed girl but found it difficult. Every now and again, she would show up in his thoughts. Sometimes she was ablaze, screaming, other times she was snarling and chasing him.
He was back at the police department before he knew it and being half-dragged by the giant dog into the station. He walked the dog all the way to the back of the building, drawing gaping stares from all who looked up from their paperwork. The kennel area was dank and dreary. God, how depressing. He thought. There were a dozen kennels on either side of the aisle way. Charlie picked a vacant stall and guided the dog inside. Securing the lock, he looked around for one of the animal control officers but couldn’t find anybody.
He decided to take a shower and get cleaned up. His uniform reeked of smoke and he got a few upturned noses as he wandered around the department. “Damn, Cutter! You at that mess over on Forty-Ninth Street?” He heard one of the detectives ask. He just nodded and kept walking towards the locker room while the man held his nose with one hand and shooed away the smell with the other.
The shower felt good. And so did getting out of his smelly uniform. He threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed his duffle bag and left. But on the way to his car, he thought of the dog and blew out a loud sigh. “That poor thing needs some help.” He went back into the station and asked if anyone had seen the animal control officers. They still hadn’t returned from their calls so he went back to the kennel area where the dog greeted him with a wagging tail. He grabbed a heavy leather leash from a peg on the wall and hooked it onto the dog’s collar. For the first time, he noticed the tags on the collar and stopped to read them. Charlie smiled as he read the dog’s name on one of them. “Tank? Your name is Tank? Man, your owners must have known you’d be this big to give you a name like that.” He said to the dog. It just looked up at him, tail still wagging. “C’mon, big guy. There’s a vet’s office near my apartment. Let’s go see if they can help you with all those scratches.” He said and walked out to his car with the dog.
Charlie’s car was getting worse by the day. It was becoming a real eyesore and he knew it. He had always loved old Camaros so shortly after high school he purchased a black ‘68 Camaro with the intention of fixing it up. He loved the car from day one but it sat in his dad’s garage, slowly rotting away, for the bulk of his military career. He had nicknamed the car ‘The Bomb’, not because he thought it was a great car, but because he truly expected it to explode at some point and without warning. He just had to be careful when talking about it in airports, which he had learned the hard way. Now he wished he had gotten something bigger as he pried the seat as far forward as it would go in order to get the huge dog in the backseat. Once inside, though, Tank laid down, emitting a rush of air from his lungs and a lick of his lips. Apparently, the dog was content that his ordeal was over.
He left the department and shortly thereafter, arrived at the vet’s office. It was a small, two story, brick building with a set of wrought iron, pull-down stairs attached to an upstairs balcony fire escape. He walked inside with Tank at his heels. The front lobby was modest and warm. A young woman was sitting at the front desk and picking at her nails. When she heard the door open she looked up and let out a squeal of glee.
“Oh, my gosh! Look at him!” She yelled, obviously talking about the dog. Then her mouth dropped open and she said, “What happened to him? He get in a fight?”
Charlie thought of the dismantled fence and the bloody paw prints smeared on the storm door of the Kendricks’ house. “I think so.” He said.
“Wait.” The girl said and looked down at her computer screen, scrolling with her eyes. “Is that Deloris?”
Charlie laughed. “No. We don’t have an appointment. I’m a cop and we found him at a crime scene this morning. I was hoping you might be able to squeeze us in.”
“Hmmm.” The girl said, again, perusing through the computer with her mouse. She came out from behind the front desk and knelt down in front of Tank. She grabbed him by the jowls and shifted them back and forth, creating a sloppy, saliva squishing sound. “Mr. Francis is late bringing Deloris in so I think we can fit you guys in.” She said to Charlie without looking up from the dog’s big eyes. Then to the dog she said in her most perfect baby-talkese, “Yes, I think we can get you in to see the doccy-woccy, don’t you? Don’t you? Yes, I think so.” She said, jiggling Tank’s jowls again. Then she hopped up to her feet and said, “I’ll go double check with the doctor.” And bounded to the back of the office and disappeared around a corner.
It wasn’t long before the girl came back out saying, “Yep, she’ll see you. C’mon back!” With a wave of her arm. “What’s his name?” She asked Charlie.
“Um, Tank.”
The girl guffawed. “Tank! That’s hilarious!” She bellowed. She handed Charlie a clip board as she led them into a small exam room. “Just fill out that paperwork and Dr. Stone will be in in a minute or so. Bye, Tankie Wankie.” She said as she closed the door.
Charlie went about filling out the paperwork while Tank sat on his haunches and stared at him. Charlie looked up and said. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I agree, man. That chick is crazy.” He whispered.
A few minutes later, the doctor entered and Charlie found himself at a loss for words. She was beautiful. She had black, curly locks that bounded down around her shoulders, flawless, chocolate-kissed skin, big brown eyes, and a smile that lit up the room when she entered. “Hello. I’m Dr. Stone.” She said in a beautiful British accent as she reached her hand out.
“Oh. Hi. Yeah. Um, Charlie. I’m Charlie and this is Tank.” He subconsciously kicked himself. Idiot! He thought. You’re stammering like a moron!
“Nice to meet you, Chah-ley.” She said. “Now, let’s have a look at Tank, shall we?” She said, kneeling down next to the big dog.
He caught himself just staring in awe at her for a moment. He had completely lost himself in thought when she spoke again.
“Wow. Some of these cuts are deep.” She gave the rest of the dog a quick examination. “Can we keep him overnight? I don’t think any of these cuts are too serious, but if he was in a fight, especially if it was with a wild animal, he should really be monitored for infection or worse.”
Charlie didn’t ask what the or worse was. He just nodded.
“Okay, well we’ve got your info. Should I call you when I know more?” She asked him.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Alright, Chah-ley.” He loved how she said his name. “I’ll call you soon. Thanks!” She said as she hustled the dog through the door to the exam room and took him through another door on the other side of the hallway. He left the vet’s office and climbed into the driver seat of The Bomb. But instead of driving towards home, he found himself steering towards Al’s house.
It’s only ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. He’s probably still up, playing video games with David. He thought. But when he pulled up in front of their house he had second thoughts about going in. He sat in his car and thought for a while. He didn’t know how
to tell his friend what had happened. He thought maybe he should just go home. But as he was about to put the car in reverse, a pleasantly plump Latino woman stuck her head out the front door of the house, Serena, Al’s wife.
“Charlie Cutter!” She yelled out the front door. “You better get your skinny white butt in here and eat something. I’m making your favorite. Now come on, before I come out there and drag you in!” She winked and then went back into the house. Serena was a little bigger but to say she was fat would have been dead wrong. She had a little extra in all the right places and she carried it well. She gave a little wiggle to her hips when she walked that said, “Yep, I know how to shake it and you can’t have it.” Her self-confidence was inexhaustible.
He smiled and turned off the car’s engine. He walked up to the house, up the steps, and inside. The front door set him in the living room where he was greeted by an enormous crucifix on the opposite wall. Next to that wall was the doorway into the kitchen where he could see Al sitting at the table, eating his omelet. “Hey, Homes! What brings you around? Come on, sit down!”
“Uncle Charlie! Uncle Charlie! Uncle Charlie!” Little, seven-year-old David came running from the kitchen and vaulted into Charlie’s arms.
“Hey, Kiddo! How you doin’?”
“Great! I beat Dad at Madden this morning, twice!”
“Wow! Great job!”
Playing John Madden Football on the Vasquez’s video gaming system had become David’s most recent pastime. He couldn’t get enough of it. So much so that Al and Serena had to institute a strict rule of earning video game time by playing outside first. “Come and eat some eggs, Uncle Charlie.” Charlie set him down and David grabbed him by the thumb and towed him into the kitchen.
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