So here goes. We are on a mission of discovery. We all well know another school shooting is in the offing so why not ponder the issue now? We can agree to disagree as long as we're learning. Right? This is the first installment of my effort in this quest.
People Shooter
“Damn. Never seen you guys coming,” McShuster
said.
He tried to twist his torso but couldn’t. The pain knocked
the wind out of him. He’d been what one of the cops called “planted” on the
sidewalk, and his ears were ringing from the gun blast. He wiggled his fingers
handcuffed behind him. They hurt. He imagined they were probably turning
purple. His side was numb. “Not sure here. I mean, who’s counting, but I feel
like the entire cop nation landed on me out there. Way I got it figured
everything worked out good. Could’ve been a whole lot worse, right?”
Officer Tracy was in the driver’s seat. “Did
you hear me read you your Miranda
Warning? If so, I suggest you remain
silent.” She slid her hand down to check the strap on her Glock. “What is this
world coming to?” She checked the strap again. A lot of officers develop
nervous habits; checking her firearm was hers.
He looked out the window at all kinds of people running to
and from the school. It was mayhem. Some were screaming. “Can you do something
about my hands? They hurt. I won’t escape on ya. I’ll answer whatever you ask.
Just loosen up my cuffs, please. I mean … Why I gotta have these things on in
the first place?”
The squad was parked on the concourse in front of the
school next to a flag pole. Its lights were trained on a body lying on the
ground. A man, not in uniform, was waving at the approaching ambulance which
jumped the curb and pulled up next to the body. Two emergency technicians
sprang from the ambulance. McShuster had to get to work at Shorty’s Bar and
Grill. He already had seventeen thousand in the bank and he wanted to add to
it. He glanced at his school. He already had half his senior year over with.
“Ma’am, my hands really hurt. Officer Tracy … isn’t that your
name?” McShuster asked.
“Handcuffs are necessary when someone brings a gun to
school.” Officer Tracy held her hand, palm up, over the steering wheel. Then
she leaned toward the passenger seat and picked up the wallet she had taken off
him. “James McShuster. Is that you?”
“Yes.” He nodded his head, then lowered his voice. “Is that
there Noah hurt? Did he get planted harder than me?” He started to lean forward
before pain jolted him in a straight-up position.
“I don’t get,” Officer Tracy said shaking her head. “Why …
more shootings? Can’t even send kids to a basketball game no more. Used to be
unarmed people—men, women and children—were off limits,” Officer Tracy mumbled.
McShuster spoke up. “Violence and guns is what it’s about.
Shooters on a mission to go viral or something. Be badass and blast their way onto
the news. The whole deal. Pictures with names … in the news, ruined parents.
You know that? This stuff here tonight was planned for a bad ending. You know.
It was like a secret mission. The same as they do in the army. I mean we had
code words. We put together target practice. It got serious in short order. I
mean homemade targets with names on them of dicks from school. It was funny
until it wasn’t. We make the gun deal with our hand and pulled an imaginary
trigger with our pointer finger. That meant target practice after school. I
mean no harm no crime. Don’t get me wrong here. I ain’t sayin’ guns is right or
wrong. I’m just saying—”
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