And We All Fall (Book 1)

by Michael Patrick Jr. Mahoney

  Jackson pushed the tweezers into his wound. His face visibly shook as he moved them around, refusing to let the pain stop him. He looked like someone was pulling his insides out an inch at a time.

  “Oh, my God,” the EMT said, stunned and frozen in place. Though it made her sick to watch, she couldn’t help but be fascinated.

  Seconds later, after some digging and a few loud squeals, Jackson slowly pulled the tweezers out with the blood-covered bullet wedged in between the silver pincers that shook in his trembling hand.

  “Oh my God.” The EMT gasped with a horrified look on her face.

  He handed it all to the EMT after exhaling. “Evidence,” as he then gestured toward the police, “for them.”

  “I’ll take that,” the robbery detective that arrived on scene said to the EMT as he walked up to her with an open plastic evidence back. “That was impressive,” he said to Jackson as the EMT dropped the bullet into the bag. “You sure are a tough SOB, sir. Say. Do I know you?”

  Jackson shrugged as he studied the man. “I don’t know. Any news on the clerk?”

  “I haven’t heard anything. Probably not even to the hospital yet.”

  “Which hospital takes in your trauma patients around here?”

  “Why? Are you planning to visit him?” the female EMT asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Good. Get a bed right next to him and get that stitched up. Have them check your head while they are at it,” she told him with a bit of callousness.

  “Virginia Medical Center on Foody Road,” the detective interjected. “About five minutes from here. Two if you have a siren.”

  “Do you think they will let me see him?”

  “You won’t go to the hospital to have a bullet taken out of your shoulder, insisting on pulling it out yourself like Rambo, but you’ll go to visit someone you don’t know? WTF!”

  “I don’t like hospitals,” Jackson said to the female ambulance crew member, who was still standing frozen in the same spot where she made her snarky remarks. “Besides, I had my fingers in his neck. I think that gives me the right to see how he is doing.”

  “You don’t like hospitals?”

  “Right.”

  “But you have to go there to see the boy.”

  “Clarification. I don’t like doctors. You have any Bactine or Neosporin for this? Maybe a band aid?”

  Jax smiled, enjoying the show his father was putting on, though he wasn’t totally sure what was happening.

  The EMT scoffed and shook her head, but located a squeeze bottle of Betadine anyway and squirted the liquid on the wound as if it was a punishment. She slammed it down on the floor of the ambulance next to where Jackson was sitting and threw a role of medical tape at him along with some individually wrapped sterile four by fours she pulled from her BDU pocket. “Have at it, cowboy,” she said flippantly as they fell to the ground.

  “Thank you,” Jackson said with a grin. “Great bedside manners you have there.” He bent over to pick up the medical tape and stopped to rake his fingernails over the mosquito bite. “God! Do you have any water? Christ that burns!”

  “What’s that?” the EMT asked as she grabbed his arm to have a closer look at his elbow, far more grotesque than the entry wound carved out by the bullet.

  “It’s a mosquito bite.”

  The EMT grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Jackson. She pulled his arm into the air to look closer at the bite again, unable to ignore his muscles. “Looks infected. When did you get it?”

  “This morning,” he said as he drank the entire bottle of water in seconds.

  “Jesus. Thirsty?” she asked. “You sure that’s a mosquito bite?”

  “Yes. Why?” he asked and belched.

  “Nice. You must be having some kind of reaction to it.” She felt Jackson’s forehead. “You have a fever.”

  Jackson shrugged and reached over for the bottle of Betadine. He squirted the red liquid all over the mosquito bite and then more into his gunshot wound. “That’ll do.” He was proud of himself, but the burning sensation under his skin at his elbow killed that pride. “Fuck! It burns so bad!”

  He couldn’t stop himself from scratching it. It continued zealously for over thirty seconds before he took a rest. The detective took note.

  “Jesus, man, you’re going to scratch your skin right off. You need to get that looked at. Along with that bullet wound. Let us take you to the hospital.”

  Jackson grabbed his bloody t-shirt that was in ball in the back of the ambulance, stood up, and walked towards his truck warily. The EMT had enjoyed taking it off a bit ago.

  “Or drive yourself there for Christ sake, if you want. See the boy and then get some care for yourself.”

  “I’ll think about it, detective.” Jackson stopped and turned towards him. “You need anything else from me, detective?”

  “Nope,” Detective Chambers replied. “One of the officers already got your statement. Right?”

  “Yes. Made a copy of the SD card from my son’s video camer too. You’ll have to fast forward through my awful singing.”

  The detective laughed. “Not a problem. Worked out well that you recorded the whole thing, Mr. Jax. Makes my job easy.”

  Jax smiled.

  “That’s some dog you have there,” the detective said as Jackson continued walking towards his truck with Jax, Jumper and the detective following. The EMT just stared.

  “He gets that a lot.”

  Jackson opened the driver’s side door.

  “You sure we haven’t met before, Mr. Mills?” Detective Chambers asked as he opened the other door for Jumper and Jax.

  “I don’t think so. Sorry.”

  The detective stared at Jackson for a moment. “No worries. I’ll call you if I need something else. You are all free to go.”

  Not that Jackson was looking for any further permission.

  “Thanks for your help,” Jackson said to the female EMT as he put on his bloody shirt and Detective Chambers closed the door, everyone now inside.

  She shook her head, unsure what to make of Jackson, but wished she had more time to figure him out. “Why don’t you shoot him in the leg so his jeans will match,” she said to Detective Chambers as the cop stepped backwards towards her, not taking his eyes off Jackson.

  He smiled. “He’s something else. A beast,” he said to the EMT. “I know I know him from somewhere.”

  Jackson started the engine as they all buckled up and then drove away with the detective and the female EMT watching them go.

  She looked like her best friend was driving away.

  “A really, really, really, stubborn, sexy beast of a man. I think I’m in love.”

  Chapter 25

  “You’re sure this is the right address?” Will asked Gus as they knocked for the fifth time on the door of the middle class home at the address from the text, each knock louder than the previous one.

  The door almost fell down.

  “Yes.” Gus checked his phone again. “This is the address Cavanagh texted.”

  Will started pacing around by the front door. “What’s this guy’s name?” He knocked on the window by the front door.

  “Her name. Inez Ruiz.”

  “Oh. Looks like she’s not home.”

  “Or she’s hiding from us.”

  “Maybe she’s busy eating the family cat right now.”

  Gus laughed anxiously, afraid that could be true. “Let’s go around back.”

  The two men, dressed again in their protective orange suits, arrived at the back of the house and slowed as they turned the corner.

  “I’m getting tired of this getup,” Will said as he pulled a bunched up ruffle on his suit.

  “Would you rather turn into one of those things?”

  “It ain’t going to stop one the humans from biting me.”

  “No. But it will stop the mosquitos or flies or fleas or whatever little nuisance is spreading this crap. Your weapon will take care of everything el
se.”

  As the two rounded the corner into the back yard, there was a Hispanic man, older, sitting at a small patio table. His orange-brown skin was leathery and contrasted against his salt and pepper hair. He was holding a shotgun and staring straight ahead, into the distance, motionless, wearing nothing but a pair of Bermuda shorts.

  “Excuse us,” Gus said to the man as he and Will eased their guns out from their holsters as they stepped slowly towards the man who still didn’t move.

  “Sir?” Will yelled as they were almost in front of the man, still approaching cautiously with their guns aimed at his head.

  Gus and Will looked at each other, unsure. The two agents pulled back their protective hood gear.

  “Sir?” Gus asked. “Can you hear us?”

  The two stepped into the man’s line of site and stood in front of him with their guns aimed to put a bullet in his head.

  “Sir?”

  The man was looking right at Gus, but did not speak a word. His eyes suddenly darted to meet Gus’s, as if it was the first moment he realized he had company.

  “Can you hear me sir?”

  “Sí,” the man said feebly to Gus. “Yes.”

  He bordered on catatonic.

  “We’re looking for Inez. Is she inside?” Will asked. The man nodded as tears pooled in his eyes. “May we go in?”

  “Lo siento, Nez!” the man began to sob, suddenly animated, as if he was awoken from a nightmare. “Dios Mio! Qué he hecho?”

  “Sir, please calm down! Do you speak English? Inglés señor?”

  The man nodded. “Un poco.” He pinched his thumb and index finger together but left a little space.

  “Can you tell us what happened to Inez?” Gus asked tenderly as he carefully pulled the shotgun from the man’s hands and handed it to Will. There was blood spatter on the barrel. The man didn’t try to stop him. “Que paso a Inez? Inglés por favor.”

  “I… I… shot her. Dios Mio! Dios Mio!”

  The man was bent over in the chair crying.

  Gus motioned in the air for Will to go inside through the open sliding glass door.

  “Why, sir? Por que’?”

  “Because she… she…” He couldn’t get it out.

  “What? She what, sir?”

  “Holy shit!” Will yelled loudly from inside the home. “Not much left of her! Especially from the neck up!” he yelled out to Gus.

  Her head was gone and her body was full of holes, but there was no blood coming out of any of them, not much of any on the floor around her actually. The wall near her was a different story.

  “Ella me mordió.”

  Gus shrugged, his Spanish not that good.

  The man clarified by chomping his teeth to explain as he stood up from the table, exposing his left front abdominal area. A chunk of his flesh was missing.

  “Inez did that to you?”

  “Sí.”

  Will walked back out of the home and stood next to Gus.

  “Duele!” the man said as he winced in pain while he continued to expose the grotesque wound.

  “He said it burns,” Gus said to Will.

  “What’s your name, sir?” Will asked as he placed his gloved hand against the man’s forehead. He was burning up, even through the glove. “Wow.”

  “Cuál es tu nombre?”

  “Hector. Mi nombre es Hector.”

  “How do you know Inez, Hector?”

  “Mi mujer.”

  “Your wife?” Gus asked.

  “Sí. My wife,” he continued, sobbing without any breaks.

  “She was sick, wasn’t she, Hector?” Will asked.

  “Sí.”

  The tears in Hector’s eyes reflected the sun in a way that softened the moment for the two agents. He shielded his eyes from it, his eyes fluttering. They couldn’t help but feel bad for Hector in that moment, though that only lasted a few seconds.

  They had work to do.

  There was no time for pity.

  “You did what you had to do, Hector. We need you to come with us now,” Will said.

  “Entonces, que hacerca…” Hector said, frightened. He turned toward the open sliding doorway behind him. “Mi mujer. I cannot leave her.”

  “We can bring Inez with us, Hector,” Will said “Don’t worry about that. No se preocupe. Okay?” Hector turned back to Will. “Come with us now.”

  Will grabbed one of Hector’s arms, Gus grabbed the other, and they pulled him out of the chair.

  “Wait!” Hector turned himself to the open sliding glass door with a despondent, powerless look on his face as the two men were pulling him away.

  “Don’t worry, Hector. We’ll get you set up in the van then we’ll come back for her.” Hector stared at Gus who presented his most comforting smile. “It’s going to be okay, Hector.”

  The two men led Hector to the van and rushed to open the back door. Hector saw the cage in the back and began to pull away. Hard.

  “No!” he yelled. “No! No!”

  “Stop resisting! Stop, Hector. For your safety,” Gus insisted. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

  “Get in there,” Will said as Hector succumbed and the men overpowered him, forced him into the cage.

  “Get the box from the cab. Set the device,” Gus ordered Will as he slammed and locked the cage door.

  “Everything will be okay, Hector. Todo estará bien,” Gus continued as he closed the back door of the truck. “Confía en nosotros.”

  But Hector didn’t trust the men as he sat in the cage clutching the stuffed elephant he’d found there. He wondered what had happened to the child who must have loved it, but the distraction didn’t last long as his every thought became consumed by the memory of emptying his shotgun into his wife.

  A few minutes later, Will hopped into the truck, and they drove away from Hector’s home, now quickly being engulfed by fire. Hector cried in the dark, until he became distracted by the agonizing burning sensation in his side.

  His cries changed to screams.

  Chapter 26

  Jackson held the locust habitat in one hand by the handle as he steadied the truck with his other hand on the steering wheel as the truck picked up speed on the interstate. He winced as he rotated his left shoulder, trying to loosen it up.

  He was entranced by the creature.

  He looked over to his son and his dog who were staring at him the same way he stared at the bug. He placed the habitat back on the dashboard. He scratched his left elbow as if his life depended on it.

  “You okay, dad?” Jax asked. “Okay to drive?”

  “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

  Jax nodded. “You want to change your shirt? We can pull off the next exit. You look like you’ve been in a war.”

  “It kind of feels like I was. We need to push on, lost a lot of time already. God,” he said as he savagely dug at the mosquito bite again. “This fucking mosquito bite won’t stop itching.”

  Jax looked surprised.

  He never heard his father curse that way before. Jackson hadn’t mentioned his father’s passing in hours, since before the gas station. He wondered how his father was handling it as he stared at him.

  Something was different.

  “What?” Jackson asked Jax. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Jax was taken off guard again.

  “I don’t know. Want me to get a shirt for you? Out of the bag?”

  “No need. I’ll change it later.”

  Jax disagreed, horrified by all the blood, but didn’t feel he should say anything else about it. His father seemed angry all of a sudden. Been through it today! he thought to himself.

  “You good with going by the hospital to see how the clerk is doing?’

  “Okay.”

  Jackson put the turn signal on to take the next exit for the hospital.

  “I can’t believe we were in a robbery, dad.”

  “Me, neither. Been a hell of a trip already, huh?”

  “Yeah. Mom’s
not going to believe all of this.” Jax patted the GoPro. “Good thing we have it all on tape.”

  “I thought we were going to have a nice, quiet trip up to Maine to pick up the collection. Life sure throws you curves sometimes, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m really sorry you had to see me… what I did to those men.”

  “Don’t be, dad. You had to do it. They were bad men. I mean… he shot that guy! The guy was trying to get away and he shot him right in the head. I saw the whole thing. He was gonna’ shoot me.” Jax’s face looked as though he couldn’t fully process it, images looping in his mind. “You saved the clerk’s life.”

  “Man, I hope that’s true,” Jackson said as he pulled off the interstate and onto Foody Road. “I’m really sorry you had to watch what happened to that kid.”

  “I hope he’s going to be okay.”

  “Me too.”

  They drove a few miles down the road and pulled into a parking space in the parking lot at the Virginia Medical Center, a large, five-story hospital.

  Jumper remained in the truck with the windows cracked as father and son found their way to the Emergency Room. They stopped at the information desk.

  “Hi. I’d like to visit a patient here. He was brought here a short time ago. Male, about seventeen, eighteen. Gunshot to the neck. I believe his name is Toby.”

  “Are you kin?” The nurse at the desk asked.

  “No, but this is his blood all over my shirt.”

  She paused before continuing. “You’re the guy that plugged the wound?”

  Jackson nodded.

  The nurse smiled. “They were talking about you when they brought him in. It’s real nice to meet you.” She extended her hand out and Jackson shook it softly. “Unfortunately,” she continued, her smile gone, “he passed away on the way here.”

  Jackson’s face turned to stone.

  “I’m real sorry,” she said as she stood up from the desk. “You did everything you could. Everyone did.”

  Jackson put his hands over his mouth and nose, and rubbed his scruffy face for a moment. His legs felt like jelly, finding himself in Mogadishu all over again.

  “Awe. I can see it’s hurting you.” She came around the desk and hugged him, though he didn’t hug her back. “You did what you could, friend.”