Dead Shot

by Ethan Johnson

  Diana wasn’t sure how many special days there were a year, but she did recall that everyone seemed to agree on the big ones. Halloween was October 31, Christmas was December 25, and Valentine’s Day was February 14. It wasn’t like Michigan decided their Labor Day was in July. How could Arbor Day be any different? She condensed her thought process down to simply, “Oh?”

  “Yeah, I looked it up. Arbor Day is supposed to be the day that’s best to plant trees, because the country has different temperatures and climates. What’s good for, say, New York isn’t the same for, say, Arizona.”

  Diana bit her thumbnail pensively. “Huh.”

  “And the irony is, New York and Arizona couldn’t agree on much before the attack, now they’re on board with a unified Arbor Day.”

  Diana wasn’t sure what to say to that. She threw up her hands. “Un-frickin’-believable.”

  Gabe turned his head sharply. “What? I think it’s pretty amazing, myself. It’s too bad it had to happen like that, but anything that brings us closer together as a country is a good thing, right?”

  Diana smiled. “That’s what I meant. It’s too bad people had to be blown up to do it.”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, cool that we’re starting police academy today, but I don’t like how we got the opportunity.”

  Diana shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  Gabe nodded and stared directly ahead. “Yeah.”

  Prior to Arbor Day, the academy was an imposing building with a granite façade, deep set with years of soot and vehicle exhaust, etched from decades of snow accumulation and melt, and wreathed in the ghosts of prior graduates, great and small. The destruction of this hallowed institution brought about the creation of an interim facility, which was once an elementary school. The students had been consolidated into nearby schools, and the building was converted for police use. The classrooms were smaller due to normally being used by children, but the police department used the scaled-down rooms to their advantage to keep class sizes small and well-instructed.

  Diana smiled as Gabe held the front entrance open for her, and she looked around at the polished floors. Most of the signage had been removed and boxed up for storage or redistribution, but a few “teacher of the year” plaques remained. She lingered at a photograph of a silver-haired woman wearing tinted glasses and a blue blouse and wondered what kind of name Rony was. Roe-knee? Maybe it was “Ronnie”. She shrugged and walked over to Gabe, who stood and waited for her in the foyer.

  “Far out,” he said. “This school dates back a ways.”

  “Everything does here, seems like.”

  “True. I guess, compared to Nebraska, right?”

  Diana frowned and looked down. “Yeah.”

  Gabe patted her arm. “Come on, we’ve got to find the orientation room. This place can’t be that big if they converted an elementary school. They said to report to room 4.”

  Their footsteps echoed through the halls as they searched for their destination. The room numbers seemed to be counting down in a promising way, only to dead-end well short of their target. They rattled a few door handles, but all of them were locked. The noise was sufficient to draw the attention of a nearby police officer, who approached them with one hand on her sidearm.

  “May I help you?”

  Gabe stepped forward, and the officer unsnapped the safety strap on her holster. Gabe raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Room 4?”

  “What about it?”

  “We’re here for orientation.”

  “Name?”

  “Gabriel. Uh, Hinajosa. And this is Diana Pembrook.”

  Diana raised her hand and waved. “Hi.”

  The officer squinted at them and squeezed her radio while keeping them locked in her steely gaze. “2041.”

  “2041,” said a voice.

  “Got two lost puppies on three. Eena-something, and Pembrook. Are they yours?”

  Gabe leaned forward. “Hinajosa.”

  The officer shook her head curtly and waited for a response on the radio. After a tense minute or two, a man emerged from a stairway and raised his hand. “Stand down.”

  The officer re-applied the safety strap on her holster and took a step backward. Gabe and Diana exchanged nervous glances as the man approached them and looked them up and down. He was middle-aged, with oily-looking hair and crisp uniform attire. “Lieutenant Griggs.” He extended his hand, and Gabe shook it.

  “Gabriel Hinajosa. Gabe, actually, is fine, thanks.”

  Diana stepped forward, and Griggs squeezed her hand but didn’t shake it. “Diana Pembrook. Diana.”

  Griggs snorted and withdrew his hand. “I trust you were provided with clear instructions of where to report for orientation.”

  “Oh, yeah, the building was really easy to get to. I parked in the side lot and got right in. No problem.”

  “The instructions said to park in the back, use the rear entrance, and take the stairs down to room 4, which is immediately to your right as you enter. Officer Neville would have greeted you there and given you your orientation packet.”

  Gabe gulped. “I uh, didn’t see that part.”

  Griggs gave them another once-over and turned on his heel. “I see we’re off to an auspicious start. This way, please.” His boots resonated through the halls with an admonishing tone.

  Diana extended her hand to the other officer. “Hello, I’m Diana.”

  The officer didn’t acknowledge the gesture. “I don’t care. Figure you’ll be gone in a week.”

  Diana and Gabe exchanged glances once more. Gabe pantomimed his assurance that he read all the instructions and didn’t see anything about parking in back. Diana squinted up at him, unsure of what to believe.

  “Quickly, please, we don’t have all day,” Griggs called out without looking back.

  CHAPTER 22

  Officer Neville sat behind a flimsy folding table and leaned forward. “Spell the last name for me.”

  Diana looked at Gabe and bent forward to respond. “P-E-M—”

  Officer Neville riffled through a plastic box containing a handful of large envelopes. “Ah, I see it now. Diane Pembrook. I need the last four digits of your Social Security number.”

  Diana shot a nervous glance at Gabe. Nobody asked him that question. Why her? She didn’t dare take a wild guess, but she didn’t know what else to do in the absence of that information. Her parents either never signed her up or never given her the card. Well, and being that Pembrook wasn’t her real last name also threw a wrench into things.

  She swallowed hard, and said, “I honestly can’t remember right now. I want to say it’s 7601, but maybe it’s 1607 or something like that.”

  Officer Neville tapped his finger on the label. “They asked me to get it from you. If you can get back to me with it, I’ll let them know.” The label had four zeroes after her name, circled in red with three question marks.

  “Okay. Also, my name is Diana.”

  “Whatever you say, miss. Go on in and have a seat. Lieutenant Griggs is ready to start.”

  Diana rolled her eyes and found a few chairs in the back of the room. She sat down on the aisle, and Gabe squeezed in to sit beside her. They looked around at their classmates and tried to determine if anyone had opened their packets. From their vantage point, it appeared everyone had their packets on their laps, still sealed. Diana fingered the envelope and fought the urge to tear it open.

  A young man in the front row broke the seal on his envelope, and a moment later, Griggs strode to his seat and yanked the packet out of his hands. “Were you told to open this packet?”

  “N-no, sir.”

  Griggs held it high over his head. “How about the rest of you? Who else opened their packet?” He surveyed the room warily and cast a sharp glance in Diana’s direction. She shook her head and held up her sealed packet as evidence of her innocence.

  He looked down at the label on the confiscated packet and pointed to the exit without looking up. “Bryant, Kris L. Dismissed.
”

  The cadet reeled as if slapped in the face. “B-but, sir, I… I didn’t know. Please give me another chance, I’m sorry.”

  Griggs took long strides to Neville and handed him the packet with a curt nod. “Dismissed. Final warning.”

  Bryant rose to his feet and shuffled out the door. Diana heard him start to cry, and the slam of the heavy exit door put an end to the drama. Griggs stood at the front of the class and put his hands behind his back.

  “Lesson one: following orders. You will do as you’re told, and you will not do as you’re not told. I can’t imagine it’s news to any of you why you’re here. Not you personally, but why this little ritual of ours is necessary.” He turned to a whiteboard and uncapped a black marker. In sharp, deliberate strokes, he wrote names as he spoke.

  “Preston. Lopez. Martinez. Kowalczek. Gower. Jones. Perez. Al-Hazred. Gunderson. Savvic. Thomas. Yi.”

  The class bowed their heads, as though at a wake. Griggs held the marker away from the board and looked over his shoulder at the class. “There are many more names. These are but a few of the men and women we lost on Arbor Day. These are big shoes to fill.” He capped the marker with a snap and turned to face the class directly. “I have very little faith in any of you to replace the least of these. Hundreds of years of man-hours and experience lost in one day. Look at you. Sad, pathetic, insignificant, sniveling children, eclipsed by the shadows of these giants, these titans of law enforcement. As cadets at this academy, the best you can hope for is a community service assignment. If you came here expecting more than that, you are sadly mistaken. So: will anyone else be leaving us?”

  A large man rose from the second row in a huff and dropped his packet on the floor as he made his way through his fellow cadets. He glared at Griggs and slammed the door behind him as he left.

  Griggs gestured for a cadet to pick up the fallen packet and hand it to him. He tossed it carelessly to Neville upon receipt.

  “Come now, no point in wasting your—and more importantly—my time. You’re not going to be heroes and defenders of the city. You’re going to stand in the middle of busy intersections and direct traffic until the stoplights are repaired. Then you’ll be moved to another intersection. That’s how important you are. We’ll need you until an electrical relay and a computer chip makes round lights change color, then one day, the best you can hope for is another trip to the academy to learn how to do real police work. Ah, that’s better. Goodbye, and good riddance.”

  Three more cadets left the room. Two women and one man, who flipped off Griggs as he left. The lieutenant smiled cordially in response to the gesture.

  “More of the best and brightest. And to those of you who think I mean that as a put-down, you are incorrect. They’re smarter than all of you, combined. Once more, I’ll advise you that you’re at the bottom rung of a very tall ladder. And that first rung is thirty feet over your head. And you’re standing in quicksand. The sooner you all accept that and refuse to waste my time or this city’s resources on your delusional fantasies, the better.”

  Gabe leaned over to Diana, and whispered, “Wanna get out of here?”

  Diana shook her head. “No.”

  Gabe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, me neither. Just checking.”

  After four more cadets left the room, only ten remained. Griggs raised his eyebrow and gestured to the door. Nobody else took him up on the invitation. He signaled to Neville to close the door, and he nodded to the class. “Now that the chaff has left us, let us find out if we have any wheat in this group.”

  Griggs spent the morning giving an overview of the police force. He drew a rough organizational chart, showing who normally did what, then drew a red X through each role that had been vacated by the attack. After snapping the cap back on his marker, he took a long look at his charges. “Big shoes, ladies, and gentlemen. Don’t ever forget that.”

  The cadets nodded solemnly. Some crossed themselves.

  “Now, then. Speaking of Arbor Day, I want to hear your stories. Not where you were when the first bombs exploded, or who you knew on one of the planes that were forced down and crashed, or how scared you were when some of the power plants around the country were hacked and taken offline for 26 hours. I want to know this: what did you do to fight back? What did you do to protect your families? What did you do to help?”

  The cadets squirmed in their seats. Griggs bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for the first hand to go up, and making a sour face when none did.

  “Very well, I’m going to tell you a story.” He put a clenched fist to his lips and raised his hand with an extended index finger. “It’s more than a mere story, it’s a legend amongst us. It’s a story that stretches all credibility and belief, but I can assure you that the facts as I tell them to you are corroborated by eyewitness testimony. Testimony,” he said as he put his hands behind his back, “from uniformed and honorable police officers.”

  The cadets leaned forward, eager to hear the tale.

  Griggs tapped the whiteboard with the end of a marker. “These names were not listed at random. They were all veterans of the 4th precinct. These men and women died in the line of duty. The majority of them were killed instantly when a commercial jet bound for Providence, Rhode Island slammed into their command post. But they would have died sooner had it not been for a young woman, armed with a shotgun.”

  Diana gasped and looked around the room in horror. Nobody looked at her and remained transfixed on the lieutenant, who paced back and forth as he spoke.

  “As the report reads, six men, armed with improvised incendiary devices attempted to turn their command post to a deathtrap. They tossed the devices over the edge of the roof of the buildings to either side of the officers, and evaded return fire simply by staying clear of the roof line. Officer Gower was set on fire by one of the devices, and managed to escape with minor burns after doing what, people?”

  One cadet shrugged. “Stop, drop, and roll?”

  “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

  “Telling you?”

  “Clearly. Yes, that is correct. It sounds trite, but it works. Not to be crass, but airplanes are a tougher nut to crack in that regard, but I digress. So, the officers were pinned down, and one of their cruisers caught fire. How do you suppose a girl with a shotgun factors into this story? Anyone?”

  Diana leaned over to Gabe. “Should I say something?”

  Gabe shook his head. “Not unless you know something I don’t.”

  A female cadet raised her hand. “Did she give it to one of the officers or something?”

  Griggs smiled thinly. “Why do you suppose that is, hm? A girl can’t possibly be any use with a firearm?”

  “Not with a shotgun, no,” she replied. Diana snorted but didn’t verbally respond.

  Griggs nodded in her direction momentarily but continued to address the female cadet. “Well, that’s why this story isn’t about you. No, this young lady made the conscious and frankly, ill-advised decision to climb up after the attackers and clear the roof. By herself. Alone.”

  The cadets trembled in disbelief with each word. “That’s insane,” said a thick-necked cadet at the other end of the row from Diana.

  “Insane, yes, good word. And on its own, if it ended there, strictly where her intent was admirable but the brave men and women of the 4th precinct handily put down the threat, we’d all have a good chuckle and that would be that. But, we move on to the next act, in which she cleared the roof.” He held up his hand. “Not just cleared the roof, no, this was especially noteworthy because she did it with one shotgun shell.”

  The room buzzed. Diana felt a surge of pride, and Gabe put his hand to his mouth. “How is that even possible?”

  Griggs smiled and nodded. “Excellent question. You see, there were six attackers, three to a roof. Their incendiary devices involved stuffing rags into liquor bottles and lighting the rag on fire.”

  “Molotovs,” said one cadet.

  “Corre
ct. And they were causing havoc with their simple setup, but there was a key flaw in their plan. They huddled close to the case of liquor bottles they had hauled up to the roof.” The cadets made noises of enlightenment as Griggs carried on. “She waited for the next rag to be lit, took one shot, smashed the bottle, and sent up the case,” he ticked off the elements on his hand as he spoke, “lighting the three of them on fire. One of them panics and jumps off the roof, one of them burns up, and the third one, that’s right, has the presence of mind to stop… drop… and roll. Very good.”

  The female cadet raised her hand. “I thought you said she cleared the roof with one shell.”

  “She did. Here’s the best part. She gets up on the roof, grabs the guy, and sends him over the side of the building. Game over.”

  The cadets clapped appreciatively. Griggs bowed and held up his hand with a flourish. “Oh, we’re not done. Six attackers, people. Three are accounted for. What about the other three?”

  A hand went up. “She didn’t do the same thing on the other side, did she?”

  “She did not. Instead, she happened to have a handgun, and she shot one of them in the head just as he cleared her line of sight. The second one stands up and decides his best course of action is to yell at the officers in the command post for shooting his friend. I think forensics found upwards of sixteen bullets in his charred remains.”

  The room buzzed once more. Gabe raised his hand. “That’s five, by my count. What about the sixth?”

  “She didn’t know there was a sixth one. She was talking to my fellow officers when she spotted him running away from the scene and shot him at medium range.”

  “Whoa, that’s… something else. I mean, no offense, but isn’t that what the police are for?”

  Griggs tapped the org chart over his shoulder. “Normally, yes. But Arbor Day wasn’t normal.”

  He took a step forward.

  “Was it, Miss Pembrook?”

  CHAPTER 23