No textbook at the police academy could have ever prepared me for this one.
I could see a cashier standing behind the counter. She had her hands up in the air, but I really couldn’t tell where the person was standing that had the gun. A six foot tall ice cream display obstructed my view. But as I inched closer, I could see yet another cashier who had been shot in the chest. She was slumped over inside the open ice cream freezer, half alive and gagging meaty blood clots into a five gallon container of French Vanilla.
The sign beside her said *Pick your favorite combination*
I guess the flavor of the month was going to be Blood Over French Vanilla.
My hand began to shake as a huge white Airforce One gym shoe stepped down into the girl’s blood that had began to trickle from alongside the freezer and pool on the floor. The shooter was finally in my line of sight.
At last, I could see him pointing and gesturing with his weapon, prodding at the cashier with the barrel of the gun. The cashier pressed a button on the cash register, and the money drawer popped open.
The gunman then slid around and pushed the cashier aside, hurriedly reaching in for each denomination, as the cashier began to weep and beg for her life.
POWWW POWWW
The shooter fired two rounds up into the ceiling, blowing out the overhead lights. The frail middle aged white woman shrieked underneath the dust of cascading plaster.
"Bitch... I told you to SHUT YO DAMN MOUTH." He shouted, cloaked in a black hoodie.
His eyes were focused down into the cash drawer. I couldn't get a clear fix on his face. I thought he may have been distracted enough for me to come in and get the jump on him, but I couldn't be sure.
My gaze shifted slightly as the sound of approaching sirens grew. I let out a tiny sigh of relief. The cavalry was on the way, but I couldn't wait. So I took a deep breath, and said a quick prayer as I crossed my heart, and rushed through the door, flinging it open.
With my gun aimed center mass, right at his heart, I positioned myself.
"Freeze... Drop your weapon... Drop it.... Do it, now!!!" I yelled, startling him. He looked up at me, and flinched, causing his finger to nudge the trigger.
POPPPP!!!
A blast sounded from his gun, sending a bullet directly into face of the 2nd cashier. She instantly fell backward and began gurgling on her own blood. He looked down at her in complete shock. You can see this type of thing happen a thousand times, but it never loses its sting.
"Drop the gun! ...Do it, now!!! Drop it! Drop it!" I repeated, firming my grip. But he kept the same catatonic stare, like he never heard me at all.
"Drop your weapon... Now! ...I won't say it again!!!" I shouted at him once more. He ignored me.
Now, by this time, I had already seen him blow two other people away. I would have been a damn fool to just stand there and let him make me into victim #3.
I knew I had to shoot him.
The lump swelled in my throat as I lined up the sight of my gun, and braced myself. Sweat seeped from my palms at the grip, forming a perfect stream that trickled passed my wrist, along my forearm and down to my elbow where it released itself as a droplet. I could’ve sworn I heard it splash onto the floor.
And he raised his head, causing everything around me to stop and restart in slow motion. In a moment of absolute truth, he paused, finally looking up into my eyes.
My mouth became unhinged. I sucked in a Panic-stricken breath as the hood fell away from his head, giving me a clear view of his face at the exact second that I was about to squeeze the trigger.
And I stopped, as he backed up against the wall short circuited by disbelief. We were both stunned.
Slowly, I began to lower my weapon, dazed because of who stood in front of me. It was my best friend's fifteen year old son. I felt like I had been thrown into an icy river. I looked back as several more units arrived outside, and screeched to a halt. The blue lights of the white patrol cars flashed as his mother walked through the door followed by three other officers.
"It's over now... It's okay... Drop the gun... That's right, baby.... Put it down.... I'm here... Mama is here now..." She said, walking slowly toward him.
Her badge gleamed on her chest against the dark canvas of her navy blue shirt like the light of The North Star.
I let out another sigh of relief when he lowered his gun, and dropped his head down. But...
Just as quickly as the boy was calmed by the soothing sight of his mother, all of a sudden, that same sight seemed to reignite a fiery rage.
Again, the boy raised his gun and aimed it. With a bitter cold, he stared into the eyes of the woman that birthed him.
"Baby, no..." She pleaded softly as she stood in the middle of the bloody mess her son had created.
"I hate you, I hate you... I hate you." He cried out loud, in a pained anguish that can hardly be described or imagined.
Murmuring the same thing again and again, the surface of his index finger slowly pressed itself against the gun's trigger.
"No, NO, no, NO, no, no, NO, no, no, no, NO, NO!!!" I Begged, along with every officer there, inside and out, who could see what was about to take place.
And, then... BANG!!!
Just like that... It was over!
The glossy white tile, once so spic & span and clean, was now stained in crimson blood spatter. My best friend slumped to the floor.
As the boy released his grip, the pistol dropped to the floor, sending a percussive sound reverberating throughout the aisles of the small convenience store.
I lowered my gun and I ran over to him. A powder burn sizzled the skin on the middle of his forehead. A tiny billow of smoke escaped where the bullet had bore a hole straight through, leaving a single hollowed out circle. The back of his skull had been blown completely out, leaving his brains hanging from his head like limp linguini noodles.
He stared up at me with those wide innocent eyes that seemed to sparkle, even in death. I took him into my arms and held him, placing my hands softly down over his face, closing his eyes for the last time. His mother moaned grievously, still on her knees behind me as a swarm of paramedics and police scurried into the blood bath. I was blown away!
I killed my godson.
>>>>>>>
For rest of the story, read…
CINCINNATI’s FINEST:
Book 1 - Crime, Punishment & Passion –
Book 2 – Above the Law, Beneath the Sheets –
Book 3 – Internal Affairs –
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Chance Encounters - Preludes to Love & Death Page 17
