by David Banner
“Have you told Jillian?” She inquired.
“Yes.”
She fell silent at his words, no doubt upset that once again Ryan Devereux had gone to his ex-wife first when he could have just come to her. It was a conversation they’d had many times over and each time Ryan told himself he would break the habit.
He hadn’t.
“When are you leaving?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, keeping his voice at a steady and calm tone. “It’s not set in stone yet or anything but it is on my mind and I thought you should know. I wouldn’t want to just tell you three days before I leave.”
“Then I guess this is it for us, right?”
Michelle finally raised her eyes and met his gaze. There were no tears, no shaking lip or quivering mouth. Her actions came as no surprise to Ryan though. She was strong, just as she had been every day since they’d met.
“How about we just go on with our meal.” She said finally. “What will be, will be. That’s a lesson I’ve come to learn above everything.”
“You don’t have anything you want to say?”
“Like what Ryan?” She asked, her voice still steady and calming. “What do you want me to say? You want me to tell you not to go? That you should stay for me, for us? I’m not going to do that and you know it. You’re a grown man. No one can tell you what to do and if you think Austin where you need to be then by all means go there. I won’t stop you.”
“I’m not asking you to stop me.” He answered. “I’m not saying I’m concretely going either. I’m just having a conversation. That’s all. Don’t you want to talk about it?”
“You’ve spent these last few weeks talking about changes.” She took a sip of her sparkling water just as the waiter placed it on the table. “You’re leaving the job you’ve always claimed to love. You’re selling your houseboat and now you’re talking about moving away from a place you’ve always said was part of your soul. You’re systematically dismantling your life. Forgive me if I don’t see where I fit into all of that Ryan.”
It’s strange how one persons words can have such a deep effect on another. It wasn’t until it was all lain out in front of him that Ryan Devereux realized how right his girlfriend truly was. He’d spent weeks slowly taking everything apart block by block without even realizing it.
“You’re right,” he said. “I have been tearing everything down.”
“Why?” Michelle asked. “For what? And don’t tell me Texas.”
“No…” he shook his head. “That isn’t it.”
“Then what?”
Ryan took a long minute to let her words settle around him. Scotch, cold and dark slowly blanketed his tongue, washing down his throat and warming him in a way he hadn’t felt in some time. This was true scotch, rich and sweet with dark notes of cherry and vanilla. Ryan stared into the glass and searched his mind for the right words.
Suddenly a thunderous clap rang through the large restaurant. The sound of shattering glass pierced the air, slicing through the night like a warm knife through butter. Shards of stained glass rained down around him as he dove forward, instinctively moving to protect the beautiful woman sitting across from him.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“I’m fine,” she answered. “What the hell was that?”
Ryan leapt to his feet and searched his surroundings. There, only a few feet down from his small table was the source of the sound. A large tree branch seemed to have violently crashed through one of the tall stained glass windows causing it to shatter inward.
“Stay here,” he instructed Michelle. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
Ryan quickly made his way toward the shattered window. His eyes traced the large tree branch as it lay splintered on the floor. The unmistakable sound of a pressed car-horn called through the window, wailing like a siren from the depths.
It was always the same feeling in these situations. That sound, for whatever reason caused the detectives pulse to rise and his heart to pound. A lump rose in his throat as he stepped through the panicked crowd and toward what he now saw to be a horrific scene.
Just outside the restaurant a small green Chevrolet sat half-wrapped around a thick Oak Tree. Now nothing more than twisted metal the car was barley even recognizable as a late model impala. Ryan quickly climbed through the broken window, his shiny new shoes sinking into the soft coastal ground as he inched closer. A large crowd began to gather as police sirens wailed in the distance.
“Oh no…” The detective gasped finally getting close enough to judge the scene. There, hanging halfway through the cars front windshield was the body of a young boy no more than six years old.
“Hold on,” his heart sank as he darted toward the child.
Chapter Three
Ryan’s world moved as though it were in slow motion as he made his way toward the young child. Passing the drivers door he noticed another figure in the car. A man who looked to be in his mid-thirties sat under the wheel. He was conscious, though most of his injuries looked superficial, at least from what the detective could see.
The closer Ryan got to the young boy the more grim the situation began to look. He wasn’t moving, his eyes were closed and his body was hunched over as though there were no life left inside. He stepped closer, climbing onto the hood of the car to get a better look.
A large branch protruded through the small boys thoracic cavity. Ryan placed his arms around the branch and tried to move it ever so slightly. The small childs body convulsed and he cried out in pain. His eyes popped open, bright blue shimmered against the stark restaurant lights. He turned his head toward Ryan and locked eyes before falling limp again.
A million scenarios surged through the detectives mind. He could snap the branch from behind and hopefully get the boy down. He could break it from the front and try to pull the child’s body free. No, he thought. Each scenario posed too much risk.
“Damn it!” He snapped, watching as the childs life literally faded away before his eyes.
The small crowd of spectators had now tripled in size as Ryan looked around. A hundred cellphones were held high in the air, recording the heartbreaking scene as though it were a prizefight.
“Hey,” he said to the boy. “Wake up.”
He needed to try and keep him conscious, it was a small thing but in the moment it was the best he could do. Maybe, he thought, if he keeps him awake he won’t die.
“Hey,” he repeated. “Kid!”
His words fell on deaf ears. The child was unresponsive. The weight of his body caused him to slowly inch back into the sloped branch further and further. He didn’t have long left.
“Kid!” Ryan slammed his fist against the car hood. “Wake the hell up!”
“Jacob….” A muffled confused voice called weakly into the night.
Ryan cut his eyes toward the passenger seat to see the cars driver now awake. He was dazed and confused. A pool of vomit lay caked on the dash and on his shirt. His face was bloodied from the impact of the windshield and his bottom lip looked busted and swollen.
“His name…. is Jacob.” He struggled to get the words out.
Ryan carefully climbed down the hood and made his way around to the drivers side. Maybe, he thought, if he couldn’t help the child he could at least help the driver. Maybe two innocent lives wouldn’t be lost on his watch.
Sirens wailed into the night, though they didn’t seem to be getting any closer. His hand wrapped the cold metal door handle as he skidded quickly to a stop. Ryan pulled only to find it stuck in place. He struggled with the door, begging the Heavens to let him save the mans life. Still, the door remained stuck in place.
“You have to come out the window!” He yelled, reaching through the shattered glass and wrapping his hands around the drivers shoulders. The scent of vomit wafted through the air and into Ryan’s nose. He wretched, nearly couching something up himself.
With one heavy pull Ryan brought the mans nearly limp and confused body throug
h the window. The two fell backward, with the injured driver laying atop Ryan as they hit the ground.
“Are you okay?” He asked, bringing the man to his feet.
His steps were uneven and wobbly, his words slugged across his tongue. Through the already pungent smell of vomit Ryan noticed another note, something more familiar and dangerous than he’d been expecting.
“Are you drunk?” He asked, marching closer to the driver.
Suddenly the cause of the accident became clear. With a fury rising in his chest the detective march back toward the car for a second look. An almost empty bottle of tequila lay exposed on the backseat.
Ryan balled his fist and slammed it hard into the car roof. He’d always thought drunk drivers to be among the worst offenders in the world. Not only were they endangering their own lives but they were also endangering the lives of others.
In this case the other life was one of a child.
“You piece of scum!” Ryan spun on his heels and headed for the still disoriented man. “Look at what you’ve done.”
“I’m s-s-sorry.” The man cried through a haze of injury and liquor.
Neither passenger had been wearing a seatbelt, but of course it was the innocent child that got the worst of the injuries.
“Detective Devereux,” a voice called in the distance.
Ryan turned to see a local paramedic rushing toward him. He was young and new to the team, a man the detective recognized from the local bar. Charlie, he remembered the young mans name.
“Where the hell is everybody?”
“The streets,” Charlie answered breathlessly. “There was an accident on the main road and all of the side streets are backed up with the restaurant opening. We can’t get through.”
“Well somebody better find a way!” He pointed toward the small child. “He won’t last much longer.”
“Oh my God…” The paramedic gasped. “What happened?”
“This asshole!” Ryan motioned toward the cars driver. He now sat rocking back and forth on the ground. His shirt still thick with caked vomit and his chin covered in dried blood. “He thought tequila mattered more than the safety of his child!”
The detective stepped back as the young EMT scurried closer to the boy. He recognized the look on his face the same one he’d seen so many times before from so many other paramedics. The child’s chances weren’t good.
“I…” Charlie stumbled. “I need the truck. I can’t move him. This branch may have punctured a lung or something.”
“He’s going to die if he stays like that.”
“I know…” the EMT climbed back down from the hood. “I don’t think he’s going to make it either way.”
“Hey!” Ryan snapped. “Your job is to make sure he does. Your job is to save his damn life Charlie!”
“I need the truck. I can’t do this alone.”
“Then go!” Ryan slammed his palms into the mans chest, pushing him back a few feet. “Go get the truck. Plow through the damn traffic if you have to. Just go!”
“Right.” Charlie darted back toward the crowded streets.
Stuck in the hell of the moment he could do nothing but watch as the young child struggled to stay alive. Inner rage slowly fizzled out through sheer exhaustion. He was a detective, a former police officer and a man of morals. He’d sworn to protect and serve. Yet here he found himself powerless.
There was nothing to do but wait.
“He’s not going to make it. Is he?” Michelle’s soft voice landed softly on his ears.
“No,” he answered reluctantly. “I don’t think so.”
“Was he drunk?”
“Yes.” His eyes cut to the still crying man. “I just don’t understand why anyone would do this. If you want to endanger your own life then fine. But why a child? He’d have been better off left alone in the streets.”
Michelle stepped closer. She placed her hand on the small of his back then lay her cheek against his shoulder. The woman was doing everything she could to comfort him, though it did little good.
“What if that were Carly?” He asked. “What if someone had been drinking with my child in the car.”
“Carly is smart,” she answered. “And she’s old enough now. She would make the right choice.”
“Maybe…” he took a breath. “But look at this kid. He’s too young to make a choice. He never stood a chance.”
Death was never easy, but when the lives lost involved someone so young it was even harder.
“Asshole!” A woman screeched.
A young mother rushed toward the scene, her face flushed and covered in tears. She was distraught and in pain. Her eyes narrowed as they focused on the driver. She was about to lose her son. Her body boiled over with anger so much so that it was almost visible.
“You idiot! You did this! I’m going to kill you!” She darted toward him.
The still heavily intoxicated driver leapt to his feet, trying his best to run the other direction. He couldn’t leave, Ryan thought. He needed to be in handcuffs.
In one swift motion the detective outstretched his arm and grabbed the woman as she passed. She fought hard against him, struggling, punching and kicking as she tried desperately to free herself. She was a woman in pain and that pain needed a target.
“Stay here,” he said, placing her on the ground.
“No!” She answered, leaping to her feet. “I’m going to kill him! I’m going to kill him!”
The next three minutes saw nothing but struggle and pain from the woman. Though she was small and lithe-limbed she managed to fight hard.
“Here.” Michelle handed Ryan a fist full of zipties and his handgun. “I grabbed them from the trunk.”
“Thank you,” he answered before binding the young mothers wrists.
“He’s leaving!” She called out, her body still struggling against the thick plastic tie. Ryan lifted his gaze to see the driver disappearing around the rear of the restaurant and into the night.
“Look after her until someone gets here, will you?” He slid the holster onto his hip.
“Alright.” Michelle nodded.
Warm Carolina night rushed through the detectives hair as he rounded the far corner of the trendy new restaurant. The small back alley was dark and empty. He couldn’t help but notice how much it looked like a movie scene rather than an actual place.
He stopped, listening for movement of any kind but heard nothing. No footsteps, no sound of panting or breathing. Aside from the still distant sirens there was only silence.
“You’re going to jail either way,” he called into the darkness. “But the longer you keep this up the longer you’ll spend in there.”
“I… I didn’t mean to do it.” The frightened mans voice echoed. “She makes me so crazy. Tell me you’ll make sure he’s okay. My boy…”
“I’ll make sure. I’ll do everything I can. I promise. Just come out,” he replied. “Just turn yourself in and everything will be okay.”
“No!” He called out in response.
Ryan listened intently, trying to trace the echoes to the mans location.
“It will never be okay,” he continued. “Tell me my son is going to live…”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then it will never be okay.” He cried breathlessly. “She wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t let it go. I make mistakes sometimes. We all do….”
He kept going, his words a nonstop mix of incoherent ramblings. Ryan followed each syllable closer and closer until finally he pinpointed the source.
“Just stay calm,” he rounded a large metal dumpster, making sure to keep his voice level and low. “All you have to do-”
“Stay back!” The frightened mans hand cut through the darkness and tore the gun from his hip.
“You don’t want to do this,” he lifted his hands into the air, making sure to keep his palms outward. “Just put the gun down. I’ll do what I can to help you but shooting a police officer is the kind of crime no one comes back fr
om. Especially down here.”
“It’s not my fault!” He cried. “I was home with my son. We were watching Power Rangers when she came in yelling….”
Tears streamed down the mans face as he struggled to find the words.
“Now look!” he looked down at himself, pulling the vomit-stained shirt from his chest and tossing it onto the street. “Look at what happened. She makes me this way…”
“It’s alright,” Ryan kept his hands high in the air. “Just put the gun down. Kick it over to me and I’ll take you back.”
“She told me she was going to take him away from me.” His chest rose and fell in heavy weighted breaths. “She said I would never see him again… Do you know who her father is? I couldn’t stop her so I left. I took him. And now…. Oh my God.”
“Sir,” he replied, taking a small step toward the armed man. “Please, just-”
“Hold it right there!” Three other officers piled into the alley. “Gun down or we shoot!”
“My son!”
“Gun down or we shoot. Now!” The lead officer yelled. “Three, two, on-”
The sound of a single shot tore through the steamy night air.
Detective Devereux watched in horror as the man’s body fell to the ground from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. He was gone, dead in an instant. And suddenly the entire world seemed as though it were barely spinning.
“Are you okay?” Another officer asked as the three rushed toward him.
“Yeah…” Ryan looked at the young mans lifeless body. “I’m okay.”
Chapter Four
By the time Detective Ryan Devereux rounded the corner the scene of the accident had grown into a much more chaotic place. Two ambulances, four police cars and a slew of law enforcement all scurried around the scene trying to take stock of the situation.
His eyes locked with Michelle’s from across the small empty lot. With a heavy breath of relief she ran toward him. She was warm and comforting as her arms wrapped his body. Ryan cut his eyes back as two more officers headed into the alley.
