Thursday, September 7, 2023

Summer Vacation is Over


My writing reflects years of police work. Perfect murders take place in Brand of Justice. I was a Captain of Detectives and stand by what I wrote. I spent time with a Columbine survivor and then wrote People Shooter. Lets hope we do not experience another school shooting. Is that realistic? Where is this blog headed? Only time will tell.

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

And Now Tailei Qi

If we understand shooters do we stand a chance? It seems like an every day deal. Sickening. The Second Amendment doesn't kill: aunts, grandmas, fathers, sisters, brothers or professors. A person does . . .




Tuesday, August 29, 2023

People Shooter

 

This is the beginning of a story I wrote. It was researched by myself. I was fortunate to have a discussion with a Columbine survivor. I'm a former cop, so I can say this is how a shooting can unfold. Confusion reigns. Death looms and we are left to wonder. I apologize if it's too long.  

People Shooter

Curt Rude

“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—”

“Please shut it!’ Officer Tracy glared at him in the rearview mirror shaking her head. “I’m going to read you your rights and tape what you have to say. Okay, McShuster?”

Someone pounded on the window. They both jumped. “Godammit. You just as well kill someone than scare them half to death,” Tracy growled while sliding open the window. An officer stood by the squad while glancing around the area.

“Sorry. Sorry,” the officer said while still surveying the scene.  Did he say anything about anyone helping him here? He a lone gunman or what?” Several other officers crowded in around the squad dressed up like soldiers, assault weapons held across their chests, the word “Police” printed on their black outfits.

“If I say something, can you loosen these?” McShuster leaned forward, exposing his cuffed hands.

“You good with that, Jill?” The officer asked.

She got out of the squad and started working a little key in the hole on the cuff. The handcuffs had worked a deep imprint into his wrist, she noticed, suppressing a grin. Yes sir … the little bastard got what he had coming.

“Yes, I’m here doing what I had to do. I’m what you’d call a lone gunman. Wait a minute, I don’t have a gun. I’m just here, I mean alone. How bad hurt is he?” McShuster nodded toward Noah. Everyone ignored him.

The SWAT officer lowered his voice. “Jill, is your daughter alright? Is she at the game?” Tracy told him Megan was okay; that she had ran her friend to the hospital with a broken arm.

“Good to hear. Hang in there, Jill. We got to clear the school.” The group spun from the squad and trotted into the north entrance.

After reading McShuster his rights and double checking her device, she exhaled. She didn’t want to hear it; when it got personal things got harder. Megan had been at the basketball game. She was okay but was crying after spotting her mom getting out of her squad, Megan had run up assuring Tracy she was okay but her friend was hurt. Not shot. Just hurt. She had fallen off a bleacher and a bone was sticking out of her arm. Megan was going to drive her but promised to drive carefully since ambulances were waiting to only transport gunshot victims. Courtney was not going to die. She needed a doctor though because it looked like it hurt. Bad.

“Where do I start here? This is Officer Tracy. I’m with James McShuster,” she continued with what sounded like legal gibberish to McShuster: times and dates and locations.

He quit listening and watched them slide Noah into the ambulance. It hurt to have everything end up like this. Noah shot? Shit happens, but really … Noah? Unreal. Was it all because Noah hated dogs? Maybe he got bit once or something. He had beaten on Courtney’s dog with a stick. Not like he had to. It was one of those obnoxious poodles. A little one. What they called a miniature. Truth was Noah was always thumpin’ on dogs. Maybe he hated ‘em for a reason. But no way this gave Courtney the right to toss shade on Noah, telling him he reeked and then smearing dog shit on his locker. Tonight she had something to worry about besides a mutt.

News Center 3 showed up and parked on the street in front of the school. McShuster watched his favorite news reporter, Robert Macaday, step out and adjust his tie. A girl was setting up a camera. McShuster would have loved all the excitement in a prior life, but not tonight; people getting shot changes things.

Everyone knew Noah could lose it in no time flat. Messing with him was mostly just supposed to be fun. But no, sometimes a guy reaches his boiling point. Who wants to look stupid? He made like being stupid was worse than no girlfriend. Everyone knew it. He picked up a nick name he didn’t know about. Or, at least Noah never let on about knowing. No-Ah girl for loser Noah.

The reporter waved and approached the squad. “Our team called the tip in. Shooting was going to … start during the game. Can I get a few words on record—” The reporter went mum after making eye contact with McShuster. “Reporters get shot. Is that the only shooter around here?” He spun and trotted to the van hollering to the camera lady. She grabbed a mic and raced Robert to the van before they spun off.

“I was on my way to work and it dawned on me. It’s like ‘I’d shoot up the school in a second,’ but you think saying that stuff is a big joke. Sometimes a storm blows in and you drenched because you didn’t see it in time.” McShuster looked at the growing crowd across the street. “Can we leave—”

“Ten four, three-fourteen. I have the perp in custody. Is the school cleared?” Officer Tracy asked.

“Can you check see how Noah’s doing?” McShuster asked. He couldn’t believe it. Noah was his shooting buddy. Why’d I shoot him? he wondered.

Officer Tracy put the mic up near her mouth but then lowered it. “You act alone here?”

“I what?” McShuster looked up.

She then put the mic back up near her mouth. “I have one in custody. Male. White. Five-six or seven. Black hoodie and jeans. He’s uncooperative.”

His face burned where it had slammed into the cement. What really hurt was his body: the left side of his chest up near his shoulder on the frontside. His hands felt a whole lot better. But every time he breathed it stung bigtime. It was like the air was full of ammonia or something. Then he felt sweat or something working down his stomach.

“You Megan Tracy’s mom?”

“Let’s leave her out of it, please. I’ll ask the questions.”

“This is something all you kids want to do? Make a damn name for yourself? That’s why the media about beat us here, isn’t it? You called ‘em to show off. Christ … this infuriates me!”

McShuster moved carefully, working his way out of a slouch. When the cops took him into custody—that’s what Officer Tracy called it—it left him feeling like he’d gotten trampled by Clydesdales. “They ain’t all angels in there. Some of ‘em no better than singing little shit birds. I know … I know you not wanting to hear it. But that place is full of no good. That the long and short of it.” He shuttered. “Worst place on earth is in a classroom.”

“Did you come here tonight for a reason? To make it right or something?” Officer Tracy asked.

“I sure did. Guns and knives make everything nice. Me and Noah used to holler that target practicing. Somehow, I went from being a shooter to being the stopper. He’d say ‘I’m bigtime badass … only way to kill me is to cut my head off and hide it.’ I’d tell ‘em to chill. Think before ya hate. I know this; people shooters kill because of everybody. Not because of just one dude poking fun. Guns change things. Levels the playing field. Makes beggars out of pricks. You got a gun … you the most important person in the universe. Yes ma’am … the rules change in this here deal called the game of life. Ya know, life is full of a shit ton a wrongs. I had to do something. Had to try.”

“I’m trying to understand. Please continue.” Officer Tracy watched him in the rearview mirror.

After slowing for the curb, the ambulance turned left, accelerating with its lights and siren on. A silhouette was leaning over the gun on the sidewalk. Then it gestured for someone else to stand near it. The silhouette joined four shadows with guns drawn as they all ran towards the front door of the school. They were hollering toward a couple that had stepped out of the building. The two held their hands up and hollered, “Parents!”

“This is real, pal. Guns build respect, one bloody little hole at a time. I’ll gun ‘em down. Let’s see how they sound dead. You apt to not forget that.” A tear surprised him and made him set up and clear his throat. “Where was I?”

“Shooting people—”

Three officers were walking toward them. Officer Tracy got out and stepped in front of them. One walked around her and pulled the door open; and grabbed McShuster. “See them people.” He pointed at the large crowd across the street. He gripped McShuster’s collar and pulled him halfway out of the squad and glared at him, inches from his face. “They’d just as soon kill ya—punk—than look at you.”

Thursday, August 24, 2023

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

So I'm told 'a cop would never do those things' by a reader. This was after she read JusThis. Gosh now we have a shooting in Cook's Corner.

Perfect murder anyone? Gotta say a Captain in Chicago did in fact say 'wow this can happen' after reading Brand of Justice.

How about Stunned and Seething? This book of shorts regards the human experience from a cops point of view. I been there and done that.

I'm thinking about posting a short story, People Shooter, after the next school shooting. My hands are kinda tied up on this one because it is up for awards. One judge did mention she thought cops would never do their jobs like this. I was a cop for a ton of years and know the story stands as I wrote it. Frustrated? Yes siree!


Thursday, August 17, 2023

He's Back

Been out west from Anaconda towards Canada. Met awesome readers. Thanks go out to all.  

Tuesday, August 1, 2023

Off The Grid

Mixing it up with a shot to Paradise Grizzly Country. Bigtime looking forward to the Cowboy Meet and Greet where books rule. Will be in Billings at the Mountainview to met up with Bill Huntington. Love the mans stories.

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

People Shooter (It gets personal)

The SWAT officer lowered his voice. “Jill, is your daughter alright? Is she at the game?” Tracy told him Megan was okay; that she had ran her friend to the hospital with a broken arm.
           “Good to hear. Hang in there, Jill. We got to clear the school.” The group spun from the squad and trotted into the north entrance.
After reading McShuster his rights and double checking her device, she exhaled. She didn’t want to hear it; when it got personal things got harder. Megan had been at the basketball game. She was okay but was crying after spotting her mom getting out of her squad, Megan had run up assuring Tracy she was okay but her friend was hurt. Not shot. Just hurt. She had fallen off a bleacher and a bone was sticking out of her arm. Megan was going to drive her but promised to drive carefully since ambulances were waiting to only transport gunshot victims. Courtney was not going to die. She needed a doctor though because it looked like it hurt. Bad.
           “Where do I start here? This is Officer Tracy. I’m with James McShuster,” she continued with what sounded like legal gibberish to McShuster: times and dates and locations.

This site requires patience. Seems like this site has a life of its own. Check out curt-rude.com for a 'more' stable experience. Anyways here we go. Point here is sometimes police officers experience situations that are personal. I remember a time where a high schooler lost his life when a Mustang he was driving swerved off the road and rolled numerous times in a frozen, plowed field. The EMT did not know it was her son until she was half way across the field. Yikes right? Can't get any more traumatic than that. 

Summer Vacation is Over

My writing reflects years of police work. Perfect murders take place in Brand of Justice . I was a Captain of Detectives and stand by what I...