Shots Fired

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

A Story I actually wrote from a training experience. No persons involved in real life were officers yet, and some may never be. That said this type of simulator does exist.

 

I throw the car in park and jump out as the call comes over the radio again. Shots fired at the local bar, a small place that never causes us any trouble. The description is a white male, the gun he is using is unknown, all they could tell us was that he was in the main bar area. I glance at my partner as he rounds the car as well as another officer responding. I draw my gun, small and snug in my grip but always heavier than I hoped. Heavy with the weight of the power, the control, the meaning of pulling the trigger. I take a deep breath, they always told me it helped to steady before you go into any scene, especially the wild ones.

I pull my attention back to the door and draw down as a pair of men run out. I stare down the sights as them, pulse elevated as I command them to show their hands, my partner at my side with his gun on them as the other officer searched them and got information. When they are cleared I take a sharp inward breath as I feel my pulse in my temple. He is still hiding. I drop my gun to a low ready, the muzzle dancing across the ground before me, my pulse shaking me. The responding officer after us took to the rear of the building to prevent an escape attempt by the shooter. I nod as he makes his way out of sight. I hate to leave officers on their own, but lucky for him there is only one rear exit here.

I nod to my partner and we make our way to the door, I know this place from a theft of service call a few months back so I took lead. I curse inwardly when I remember the entrance is a long hallway, I hate being stuck in fatal funnels. Areas where a shooter has a small target area and my body a large target for him to hit with ease. We squint into the building, the dark lit building edged with low lit corners. Smoke filled the air, blurring the bright neon signs above the bar. I feel my heart pound against the body shield, the familiar pressure feeling tighter than normal as I smell gunpowder smoke mixed with the vapes and cigarette smoke.

I take a deep breath and step into the proper bar area, glad that we were out of the direct line of fire and back where we can move if needed. I shiver once as I scan the room to find nothing. Did he get out the back? Is the other officer okay? Nothing came over the radio, maybe it is too late and he left before we made it in. Slowly releasing the breath I shout, the voice strong despite the thoughts racing through my mind. Commands to show yourself, for all persons in the building to come out and show me their hands. Scuffling from the bar itself made my heart leap to my throat as I raised my weapon to high ready, once again staring down the sights at a man behind the counter. His hands remain hidden as I command him to show his hands and come out from behind the counter. I watch as he moves to the edge of the counter, his hands still concealed from view.

My mind wanders away from me. Family, my partner and his wife, she is expecting their son soon. I realize that with every day giving us news of another fallen officer, in this smokey bar we could be next. Two officers gunned down in an empty bar. I hear my partner call over the radio with one person located and a description. A white male. My finger darts to the trigger as I shake away the stray thoughts and resume my commands. How long had it been? It was only a fraction of a minute but it felt like an hour. My arms feel tired, fatigue taunting as I call out more commands to reveal his hands. Then he did.

The high caliber rifle was hard to miss as he shot his arm up, finger on the trigger. I call out to drop the gun, but as it hits his shoulder to steady the shot, I pull my trigger before he can pull his. Shots ring out around the empty room, the shots ringing ears as they echo. I can smell the gunpowder, but the form has fallen out of view. I raise my hand to call out the shots fired, the injured man that was the threat, as the room around my partner and I glows red. A box on the screen reads scenario complete and lists how many shots were fired from each gun.

I look at the red gun, the body a smooth plastic weighted to match my own duty weapon. The only difference was the flat front where the lasers reacted with the screen. My partner and I set the fake weapons down as I let out a slow and shaky breath. The room behind us claps as we make our way down the aisle of the dark lit classroom, only the red light from the projection silhouetting our forms. I thank the darkness for hiding my shaking form. It was only a drill. Practice to prepare us for a real event. No lives were at stake, not even ours. As I sit, the pounding in my head relaxes to reveal a headache. It is not real today, but tomorrow it may be real. Every day it has the chance to be real.

I always wanted to make the local news, but I want to be here to see it happen. I want it to be for an act of heroism or community impact. I don't want to be the next officer down.


Submitted: March 31, 2021

© Copyright 2021 M.S Wolf. All rights reserved.

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