Collision Course (A Josh Williams Novel) (7 page)

As
the girl ran out, she was on her cell phone calling 911, hysterical...

The dispatcher at EPPD Communications center was not having a good day.

Divothead staggered to his feet, moved unsteadily to the front door. He heard the sirens and knew he needed to get out of there. Moving to his car, he jumped in, started it, and tried to drive inconspicuously out the back lot. As he approached the road, a young, white, female, soon to be ex-employee of the store, appeared in front of him.

He reacted badly.

Instead of stopping, he jerked the wheel to the right and hit the gas pedal. While Divothead was not conscientious about vehicle maintenance, even a poorly maintained Camaro can go fast.

The car jumped the parking barrier, bouncing violently, and forcing Divothead's foot even harder onto the accelerator. The car shot across the road, T-boned a telephone pole, adding more damage to Divothead's injuries and quickly terminating his escape.

The
first car on the scene was Officer Donald "Straphanger" Jones. Born in New York City, he bragged that growing up in the Big Apple made him immune to violent scenes and bloodshed. He bragged nothing would bother him and, in the ways of working in a small city police department, so far managed to avoid direct contact with anything approaching what he was about to encounter.

Entering the front of the store, he came around the cashier's counter, saw chunks of skull, brain matter, blood, and proceeded to distribute his morning breakfast all over his uniform, the floor, and the freshly delivered bread in the display.

Two more officers arrived and made their way through the store, looking for suspects, and trying to avoid being hit by Straphanger's breakfast shrapnel.

Deciding no living persons, other than cops, occupied the store, they radioed the information to dispatch.

Dispatch responded that the female caller, still on the line, was behind the building and the suspect was involved in a crash.

The officers ran outside. Straphanger was not sure if yesterday's dinner was going to join in abandoning ship, so he decided to secure the crime scene from outside the front door.

As the other two officers came around the building they saw a smoking Chevy Camaro against the telephone pole, a male lying in the street, and an hysterical young girl, screaming into a cell phone, kicking the male in the head.

Running up to the girl, they pulled her away from the now whimpering male. "Hold on sweetheart, what the hell are you doing?" asked Sergeant David Harriman.

"He was going to shoot me, that guy had a rifle and was going to shoot me but the other guy stopped him," sobbing, trying to get the words out between deep breaths.

Sergeant Harriman looked at Officer Wiley, who was searching Divothead for weapons. They both started scanning the area, weapons drawn. "What other guy?"

"The black guy, he told me to run, he helped me, he saved my life," she continued sobbing and sat on the curb.

Harriman radioed for a rescue and told dispatch they had a white male suspect in custody.

Dispatch broadcast additional information that a witness saw a black male enter the store with something covering his face, when he came out he was carrying what appeared to be a rifle.

Questioning the girl, Harriman tried to get a handle on what went on.

"Okay, sweetheart, listen to me, I need you to calm down and tell me what happened, nobody can hurt you now, just tell me what happened. How many were there?"

"One, or two, I don't know I'm not sure," she replied, "but the black guy helped me, and he stopped the guy that shot Mr. Subedar and CK, from shooting me."

"Tell me what you remember from the beginning." Harriman said, putting his arm around her to calm her down.

"Okay,” taking a deep breath, “I was standing behind the counter looking out the front window; I saw a black guy in a blue hoddie sweatshirt walk to the end of the parking lot and stand there."

"What was he looking at?" Harriman asked

"He kept looking up Taunton Avenue then back at the store, like he was waiting for something to happen. I think he saw me looking out and he walked toward the store. That's when the door opened and the white guy came in. He was carrying a rifle and wore a blue thing on his face. He yelled something and that's when I heard Mr. Subedar yell 'Fuck you asshole' and heard the shot."

The girl looked over at Ventraglia again and tried to kick him, Harriman grabbed her and said, "Okay sweetheart, I think you've made your point to his head, he ain't gonna be feeling too well for a long time."

"What did the black guy look like?"

"He was taller than me, I don't know, I was trying to hide."

"So you think there were two guys involved? This guy here," indicating the still moaning Divothead, "and the black guy?"

"I think so, but why would he help me? I don't know if he was part of it, but...well...I don't know. I think Mr. Subedar was expecting something to happen."

Harriman looked at Wiley. "Why would you think he was expecting something?"

"Well, CK never works at the same time as me and Mr. Subedar told me that if anything went on I was to just hide behind the counter."

"Did you ask him what he meant?"

"Yeah, he told me that he was only talking 'just in case' and that I shouldn't worry.” She put her head down and wiped her eyes.

“A few minutes later CK got a call, went over and talked to Mr. Subedar. Then CK went to the back room and Mr. Subedar started doing something to the bottom of the display at the end of the magazine area, only, it was weird, he wasn't really doing anything, just sort of pretending to, that's when the white guy came in.”

Over the radio, Sergeant Harriman heard the pursuit call by Josh. He tried to radio the conflicting information about the second suspect to the units involved. The channel was full of excited chatter, transmissions blocking out others.

He managed to get out some info on the subject, black male, armed with a shotgun. He tried to add that the second subject may not have been part of the robbery and possibly tried to intervene and stop it. He asked dispatch to repeat this for the pursuing officers.

His request never made it over the air.

Always at the moment when the most critical information is available, is it impossible to get it to the people that need it.

Rescue arrived and began treating Divothead.

The radio call for shots fired at the church came moments later.

The
suspect sprinted up the stairs and into the church. Josh radioed he was still chasing a suspect fitting the description. Entering the front door, he requested units set up a perimeter.

Churches are always shadowy, perhaps to enhance the mystery, or the fear, depending on the particular religious flavor. Saint Domenick's was no different, dark wood pews and altar, minimal lighting, dim candles illuminating the statutes.

Father Swanson, now the Pastor, heard the door open and saw JoJo run in and dive behind the altar. He recognized JoJo right away; one does not forget a face you see in your mind every night for 15 years. The nightmare of memories burned into his heart.

Father Jim partially closed the door. He watched JoJo crouch down and pull something from his sweatshirt. He could not quite make it out.

Oh my God, he thinks Father MacLoughlin is still here, or he's coming for me. Mary Mother of God why now, after all this time?

Another sound drew his attention to the front of the church. He watched Josh come in, low, fast, weapon drawn.
Thank God,
he thought,
Josh must have seen him come in. He'll stop him.

Josh drew his Sig Sauer. The Sig has nice low light sights, fit well in his hand, and gave him the confidence needed should the opportunity arise.

At that moment, it did.

Movement.

Blue-hooded head behind the altar moving toward the Sacristy.

"Stop right there you motherfucker or I will blow that fucking hood off with your black head in it."

While the language was a tool to get the guy's immediate and complete attention, Josh thought of the irony of such words directed at an individual on an altar in a Catholic Church.

Josh long ago come to see the fallacy and contradictions of organized religion. However, 6 years of CCD and church every Sunday is a hard habit to break. He felt an ingrained discomfit with the words, spoken in anger, here on a platform many viewed as sacred.

It seems time slows down during a dramatic event; this is a misperception by the mind unaccustomed to such matters. The truth is the brain comes alive. It focuses its innate resources and power, creating a more in-depth and complete record of the activity.

The mind's ability to gather, evaluate, and record is exceptional and rarely fully used, except when facing what could be its sudden and immediate termination.

Nothing brings clarity like an unwelcome opportunity to die.

Twenty-five feet separated Josh from someone he believed shot two people.

Father Jim heard Josh yell, heard the words spoken in anger.
Why would anyone use those words in a church?
He began to open the door, hesitated. JoJo was looking at him.
He knows I am here.

Josh moved closer, aiming his weapon.

Father Jim saw JoJo starting to move again.
My God, he's pointing a gun.

Then he heard the voice, it sounded older, but held the same sadness from all those many years ago...

"I tried to get him to stop, I tried to get him to stop..."JoJo's eyes pleading with him, again.

Father Jim pulled back, deeper into the Sacristy.

Josh drew closer, focusing on the guy’s hands. Eyes betray emotion, falsehood, and fear. Hands will kill you. Looks cannot kill, trigger fingers do. The guy, looking from Josh to the Sacristy, perhaps measuring his chances of making it out of there without being shot. He was talking, but Josh could not make it out.

Was there someone else there?
Josh wondered.

He looked at the guy's legs, one bent in the classic sniper crawl, knee angled away from the body, sliding him forward, and the other straight back with the foot trying to contribute to the motion. "Which part of don't move motherfucker aren't you getting, asshole?" Josh yelled again, "stop moving now or you are a dead man."

The guy slowed his movement.

Josh came closer.

Something was wrong,
where were his hands, where the fuck were his hands?

Josh saw a flash of metal moving from under the guy's leg.

Look for the hands, the hands will hurt you. Look for the hands.
He thought.

He saw the hand moving, holding something, lifting it toward him, the body twisting as it rose off the floor.

Josh heard the voice, clearer, pleading, almost sobbing.

"I tried to get him to stop; I tried to get him to stop."

The man was crying.

Father Jim closed the door.

The click of the latch echoed throughout the church, Jim's mind flashed back to an earlier evil.

The noise startled Josh.

Was it a misfire? Is he trying to fire the weapon, why the fuck won't he stop moving?

Josh looked through the sites and brought his aim to center mass.

There comes a time in every potentially fatal encounter, when the instinct to survive asserts itself. Potentiality replaced by inevitability. The decision made; all that remains is the mechanics of the process.

Josh aimed, took a breath, and squeezed. Thirteen pounds of trigger pull is all it takes for the first round, less for the next ones.

Josh fired three rounds, saw the impact, saw the involuntary jerk of the body, saw the pink spray from the round that hit the head, smelled the powder burn, and the blood.

Father Jim heard the yelling...and then shots.

"I tried to get him to stop.” JoJo's plaintive last words directed to Josh, before he stopped moving.

Father Jim opened the door a bit and looked out. He saw Josh leaning over JoJo, trying to stop the bleeding, and doing CPR. He could hear Josh yelling, “Don’t you die, don’t do that to me…”

Father Jim once again did what he did on that terrible night so long ago. He quietly walked back into the residence and waited for them to come find him, where he would deny knowing or seeing anything. For this, he knew there was no absolution.

Chris Hamlin came running in.

"Josh, Josh!" she yelled.

As she moved closer, she saw Josh leaning over the guy.
What the hell was he doing?
She thought.

She yelled, "Josh, what the fuck are you do..."

Then she heard him.

"Don't you die, don't you do that to me."

She realized he was doing CPR; trying to save the guy.

As she got closer, she saw the dark, blood pool under the hood, saw the shattered right side of the head, saw the bubbles in the chest with each of the compressions.

"Josh, Josh, stop, stop," she touched his shoulder, "he's gone."

"Why the fuck did he do that, why did he make me shoot him?" Josh was yelling, "I told him to stop, I tried to get him to stop...."

Echoing JoJo’s last words.

"It’s okay, it’s okay. You had no choice, come on with me, let's go outside."

Several other officers arrived and started securing the scene.

A cell phone rang.

The officers looked at the body, at the cell phone in JoJo's hand.

They looked toward Josh and then turned away, trying to look busy.

Chris took Josh outside and sat on the front stairs. "Look at me," she said, "you did what you had to do, you had no choice, he shot two people, he would have shot you, it's okay, you'll be okay."

Sergeant Adam Stevenson, Internal Affairs, came over to Hamlin. "L T, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"It can wait until the shooting team gets here. I want to stay with Josh."

"No, L T, it can't wait.”

"Josh," she said gently, "I will be right back."

Josh continued to stare off into the sky, shaking his head.

When they moved a distance away, Stevenson asked, "Did you see a weapon in there?"

Chris was angry. "You fucking leech, you haven't been here thirty seconds and you want to fuck him over? He just killed someone for God's sake, show some compassion."

Stevenson glanced over at Josh.

"We have another guy in custody, but no weapon yet, and he has a major fucking fracture in his skull."

"Good," Chris said, "I'd open the prick up myself if he was here."

Stevenson continued, "There's more, the witness says he," motioning his head toward the church, "may have tried to stop the robbery."

Chris looked at Stevenson, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Lieutenant," Stevenson said, "according to the witness, the guy in the church, the one Josh just shot, tried to stop the robbery; he clocked the guy we have in custody with the shotgun."

Chris could not quite get her mind around this. How could this be?

****

I always knew it would come to this.

No matter how I tried, I cannot break the hold, no escape.

I went halfway around the world only to die 100 yards from where I grew up.

Williams was only the instrument of my demise, not the cause.

Why don't they ask me, look into my heart, past the physical damage, look what I did?

I was wrong, I knew it was wrong, but I did a good thing. I have done many good things.

But not enough.

I do not hate him; I believe he thought he was right. Maybe, just maybe, he should have given me the benefit of the doubt.

Then we would both be better off.

Or would we?

****