by Jay Allisan
The blood. The bleeding. I had to stop it. Footsteps behind me. I seized Max’s gun. I spun around and squeezed the trigger.
Nothing.
Again. Again. No bullets, just terrifying clicks. The gun was empty.
Theirs wasn’t. And there were three of them.
I went for the one in the middle, the one with the weapon. I swung my gun high and brought it down fast toward his skull.
“Woah, woah!”
The man on the right caught my arm before I made contact. I lashed out with my other arm but he caught that too. “Drop it, Shirley. Drop it now.”
“Leave him alone!” I screamed. “Leave him alone, leave him alone!”
The man in the middle raised his hands. He crouched slowly. “It’s okay, Shirley. I’m putting the gun down. Look.” He laid the gun on the ground and slid it away before rising just as slow. He reached for the gun I still clutched. “I’m going to take your gun now. It’s all right. It’s empty. It can’t hurt anyone.”
He pried the gun from my hand, laid it on the ground and kicked it away. His movements were deliberate, almost soothing to watch. The feeling of danger began to slip away.
“I’m going to take the mask off,” he said. “It’s okay, Shirley. It’s over. You can relax.”
He pulled up the ski mask. It was Dixon.
“Let her go now,” Dixon said. My wrists were dropped and the other two men removed their masks. Kristoph and Paddy. I stared silently, stupidly. I couldn’t understand.
Dixon moved toward me, his eyes searching. “Do you remember what you were doing, Shirley? Why you were here?”
“I… I…”
Paddy growled dangerously, mopping blood from his face with the ski mask. “Dammit, Shirley, you broke my fucking nose.”
“You attacked me! You… you shot…”
I spun around, dropping to my knees at Max’s side. I tore open his shirt, looking for bullet holes. Instead there were pouches stuck to his stomach and chest, some of them burst and oozing a thick red liquid.
I pulled them all off and ran my hands over him anyway, finding no breaks in the skin. “He’s not…”
“He’s not shot.” Dixon knelt beside me and plucked a misshapen ball from the ground. “Wax bullets, same as you use at the academy. This was only a training exercise, remember? He’ll be sore, but he’s fine.”
“Then why is he—”
“Just waiting for the all clear. You can get up now, Max.”
Max didn’t move.
Dixon shook his shoulder gently. “Max. We’re finished. You can get up now.”
Nothing.
I put my hand on his forehead, pushing back his hair. “Max? Max?”
My hand moved to his cheek. I slapped it, lightly at first and then hard enough to redden it. I put my ear to his chest. The rapid pounding of his heart mirrored my own. His breath came in hollow rasps.
“Something’s wrong,” I whispered. I prodded his scalp and spine for injuries but couldn’t find any. I grabbed at Dixon, panic waking like a dragon.
“What did you do? Why isn’t he waking up?!”
Dixon pressed his fingers to Max’s wrist and looked at his watch. I slapped Max again, hard, wincing at the sound and crying when he didn’t react. I took his face in my hands. “Max, please. Wake up. Wake up.”
I kissed him fiercely. He gave nothing back.
Dixon set down Max’s hand and I scooped it up. “What is it? What’s happening?”
Dixon just shook his head.
“Help him,” I pleaded. “You have to help him!”
“Shirley, there’s nothing I can do.”
“You did this to him! Help him!”
Dixon didn’t reply. I looked at Max, at his slackened face, and I had to close my eyes. He needed help. We were in the middle of fucking nowhere and we had to get him to the hospital. An ambulance. I could call an ambulance. I had my hand in my pocket before I remembered I’d left my phone. It didn’t matter. I’d use someone else’s.
I seized Dixon’s arm. “Where’s your phone?”
He frowned. I scrambled to my feet, shouting at Kristoph and Paddy. “Who has a phone? Didn’t anyone bring a phone?”
When neither of them moved I shook Kristoph by the shoulders. “Find a phone. Call an ambulance. Tell them we’ll meet them on the main path.” He looked at me blankly and I pushed him hard. “Go! He needs a doctor!”
He took off running. I grabbed Paddy by the arm and pulled him toward Max. “Get him up, carefully. You get his arms and I’ll get his legs.”
Paddy just stood there with his stupid ski mask held to his nose, and I snatched it away and threw it in the bushes. “Goddammit, Paddy! If you don’t get him up right now I’m going to break more than your nose! Now take his arms and be careful! Support his head, Dixon. Careful. Careful. Don’t hurt him.”
We lifted him from the ground and moved quickly to the edge of the clearing. I was in the lead, and I had no idea where we were. “Tell me where to go,” I said. “How do I get him out of here?”
“Beats me,” said Paddy. “I followed Max in.”
“Dixon, where do I go?”
“I can’t be sure—”
“Never mind, never mind, it’s this way. Go this way.”
I picked my way through the trees, trying hard to remember all the twists and turns Tish—
I jerked to a stop. “Wait! Where’s Tish?”
Dixon and Paddy shared a look. “She’s fine,” said Dixon. “Everyone’s just fine. Why don’t we let Max down, and we can—”
“He needs help! We have to meet the ambulance!”
“There is no ambulance,” Kristoph said. I turned at the sound of his voice. He was walking back toward us, calm and unconcerned.
Angry tears sparked in my eyes. “Why not? What’s happening? Why don’t any of you care?”
“Armadillo,” said Dixon.
“It’s okay, Shirley, I’m all right,” said Max.
My heart stopped.
His legs fell out of my grasp as my arms went limp. Paddy saved him, pulling him upright and onto his feet. I stared at him wordlessly and he looked back at me, sheepish, still gruesomely bloody.
I began to cry.
Max reached for me immediately. “Oh, don’t cry, sweetheart, it’s okay—”
I stepped back, my head shaking tremulously. “I thought you were dead. I watched…”
“I know, I’m so sorry—”
“Why would you do that to me?” I whispered. His hand brushed my cheek and I slapped it away, screaming, “Why would you do that to me?!”
“Shirley—”
“We had to know.” Tish’s voice preceded her as she emerged from the bushes. “We had to know if you could handle yourself under duress, in a worst-case scenario like this. Out in the field—”
“You did well—”
“Focus on your breathing—”
“Let her cry, she’s earned that much—”
“Shirley, please, you have to understand—”
Voices swelled into cacophony and I couldn’t listen anymore. I couldn’t stand here one second longer, coddled, placated, realizing they’d all conspired together to trick me. I felt betrayed. I felt like a fool.
I turned on my heel and ran.
Branches snapped underfoot and whipped me in the face as I forced my way though the dense foliage. I didn’t stop until I reached the riverbank. My name echoed after me but I ignored it. I wasn’t running away, not really. I just needed to be alone for a minute, then I’d be fine. Then I’d go back and give them hell. I wiped my eyes and sat down hard in the dirt. Max could forget about getting lucky anytime soon.
The bushes behind me began to rustle, accompanied by a string of curses. I held my breath, as if that would make me invisible. Paddy found me anyway.
“Goddamn prickle bushes,” he grumbled. “As if my nose wasn’t trouble enough. I’ll be pulling thorns out of my arms for days.”
“Poor you,�
� I muttered.
I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared straight ahead, watching the river tumble past. Paddy squatted next to me. “You wanna bitch? Fine. You wanna sulk? Fine. But I know you know why we did it. You’re not stupid.”
“Dumb enough to get played.”
“Yeah, whatever. Smoke?” He held out a cigarette. I shook my head and he shrugged, lighting it for himself. He puffed out smoke rings that dissipated quickly in the breeze.
“Don’t be pissed just because you didn’t figure it out,” he said. “That was the point. Throw you off, make you think it was real. See what you’d do if Max got in trouble.”
“It was cruel,” I said tersely.
“Damn right it was. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t necessary.” He tapped ash against a stump and smirked at me. “Cute what you did with the wake-up kiss back there. Might’ve worked if Max was a fairy tale princess.”
“Fuck you.”
“Hey, I just did you a favor, and don’t start on it being a shitty favor, ‘cause it wasn’t. You’re upset. I get it. But you’ve gotta admit this was in your best interest. No one’s gonna let you be a cop if you flip out under stress, no matter how good your academy scores are. It’d make you a liability.”
“But that’s exactly what I did. I flipped out. I tried to shoot—”
“Shooting’s what you were supposed to do, dumbass. Why the hell do you think Max’s gun was empty? We planned this, Shirley, thought all the details through. We weren’t gonna let you hurt anybody.”
“Says the man with the broken nose.”
“Caught me by surprise is all.” He took a long drag on his cigarette, smoke fogging between his lips. “You did just fine. You did what I woulda done, trying to protect him like that, and afterward you got him help. We weren’t supposed to do anything unless you told us, and you pulled yourself together to make a plan.”
“I should have—”
“What? You should’ve what?” He grabbed my arm, his face dark and serious. “You should’ve seen it coming? You should’ve remembered it was all pretend? The last time you got scared like this you jumped in front of a train, and today you saved Max’s life. Cut yourself a break.”
We sat quietly until Paddy stubbed out his cigarette. He made a show of getting up and stretching before giving me a look.
“You done feeling sorry for yourself yet? ‘Cause Max is getting himself real worked up over what we did. This wasn’t easy for him either, you know. Hell, I thought he was gonna blow the whole thing when you started to cry. But he did what he had to, and now it’s your turn. Are you gonna let him keep worrying over you or are you gonna deal with this?”
He held out a hand but I ignored it, getting up on my own. He clapped me on the shoulder and grinned.
“Attagirl. Better watch that first branch, it’s a doozy.”
I stooped under the thorns, careful not to snag my hair. “Why are you doing this?” I asked quietly. “Why do you care?”
Paddy pushed his way through the thicket and into the clearing. He curled his fingers around my arms and dragged me close.
“I’m doing it for Max. Now I may not know you from Eve and I still think you’re a few trout short of a fish fry, but Max is my brother and he’s crazy about you. If looking out for him means getting my nose broken in the woods, then that’s the way it is.” He leaned in menacingly. “But so help me, Shirley, if you fuck him up I’ll make you regret it. He’s gone through enough shit already, and if you hurt him again you won’t get another chance. Understand?”
I believed him. He could probably rip my arms off if he wanted to. I glared but nodded, and he released his grip and pushed me forward.
“Good. Now quit hiding in the bushes and go face your boyfriend like a man. Shut up. You know what I mean.”
PADDY LED the way out of the woods and into the more habitable area of the park. I spotted Max just beyond the treeline, pacing between a large sycamore and the bench where Kristoph was perched, keeping an eye on him. His head snapped up at our approach, but he reined himself in and let me come to him. I moved slowly, emotions swirling messily, but as soon as I could read the misery in his eyes I seized him in a hug. Then I punched him in the stomach.
I watched with grim satisfaction as he doubled over. “Don’t ever do that again,” I said. “You do that again and I’ll—”
“Never,” he rasped, clutching at me for support. “I promise. Never again.”
“Good.”
I locked him in an embrace, anger and shame giving way to pure relief. My fingers tightened in his shirt. “That was really scary, Max.”
“I know, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do it, but Tish said you needed it, and Dixon said it was important since we’ll be working together, and I want you to be a cop so I had to—”
“What?” I interrupted, pushing away. “What did Dixon say?”
He winced. “Ah. I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
I searched his face urgently and he began to smile. “Oh, why not, it’s only fair after what we put you through.” He held his palm against my cheek, looking at me tenderly, proudly. “After all this is done, after all the tests and evaluations, once you graduate, Dixon’s going to take you as part of the placement program. You’re going to train for homicide, Shirley. You’re going to get your dream.”
For a moment I just stared at him. Then I threw my arms around him, knocking him off balance and sending us both onto the grass. Max groaned with the impact, his face scrunching in pain.
“I said I was sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “You can stop beating me up now.”
I combed his hair back. “That was a hug, Max.”
“It didn’t feel like a hug.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, what about this?”
I shifted onto my elbows and caught his lips with mine, kissing him sweetly at first before getting greedy. “Better?”
I felt him smile. “Maybe a little—”
“Max!”
“Go away, Paddy,” I muttered, just as heavy fabric hit me in the back of the head and tented over us. Max sighed and sat up. I clawed free of the fabric and separated it into two jackets.
“Get up,” Paddy said. “Put those on. We gotta go, and you look like goddamn murder victims.”
“Well, whose fault is that?” I retorted. I glanced down and realized I wore my share of fake blood, too. Paddy ignored me.
“What’s wrong?” Max asked, getting to his feet with some difficulty. I helped him into a jacket before slipping on the other, savoring the Briar Rose Police Department logo stitched across the back.
Paddy was already jogging toward the park’s entrance. His backward glance sucked the good mood right out of me. I’d seen that look on enough cops to know it could only be one thing.
“Red Rocks is on fire. It’s the Garrison.”
15
“HOW CAN it be the Garrison?” I asked, falling into step with Max. “They don’t set fires. The motive is wrong. And the timeline—”
“They signed it,” Paddy snapped. “Same as every other crime scene. And if you’ve figured out their motive you’d better share it with the class.”
“I’m just saying—”
“Don’t. This isn’t your problem.”
Two unmarked cars idled at the park’s main gate. Paddy took off with Kristoph immediately, but Max hesitated before getting in with Dixon.
“Will you be okay?” he asked. “I don’t like leaving you.”
“I’m fine, Max. I’ll head home. You go.”
He kissed me and slid into the passenger seat. “Take my car. The keys are in my desk. I’ll call you as soon as I can!”
The car tore away from the curb. I watched until they hit the freeway, then turned and ran for Old Town. Their sirens echoed after me my whole way there.
THE STATION was a frenzy of activity, every available officer scrambling t
o assist with the fire at the city’s northeastern precinct. Red Rocks housed the majority of the police department’s short-term prisoners, and all of them would have to be evacuated and relocated to other holding cells. It would be chaos.
I made my way up the stairs, not drawing so much as a second glance from the cops rushing past me in the other direction. The fourth floor was deserted by the time I reached it. I walked to the office, intent on going home, but as I stepped through the door my attention was drawn inevitably to the whiteboard at the front of the room. The Garrison. This was my only chance to look.
I’d followed the case since the beginning, a sick combination of curiosity and fear simmering into obsession. I knew every fact that had made it to print, but I also knew how the police softened press releases to quell public panic. And I’d never heard of a signature.
I closed the door behind me and stole up to the whiteboard.
In the center were the crime scene photos. One look and I had to shut my eyes. I’d read the articles, I knew what had happened, but God, to see it, to see the victims… this wasn’t murder. This was slaughter.
Fanning out from the photos were lines of investigation: eyewitness accounts, physical evidence, approximate timeframes and locations… but there was so little. The police had so little to go on. No one knew when or where the victims had been abducted, or where they’d been taken prior to the discovery of the bodies. No guns for ballistics. No fingerprints. No DNA. No murder weapons recovered. Just an exhibit of dead police officers.
There were six of them now, six victims of the Garrison. The first was a young cop, clubbed to death eleven weeks ago. The second was a detective, decapitated twelve days later. Twenty days after that it was the vice sergeant. The two patrol cops had their throats slit one month later, and the most recent victim, the internal investigations officer, had been found disemboweled only four days ago.
And now there was a fire.
It didn’t make any sense.