From The Road

Headed to Chicago shortly. Just got back from Germany. Don't suppose you'll have a guess on what the Germans wanted answered. 'Three gals in their first year of studies wanted to know why nothing gets done with gun violence. Had to tell them it's because everybody thinks its something gonna happen to somebody else. If folks had to confront the fact they could die then something gets done. 

Installment #7 from the 'People Shooter'

And the story continues as death and carnage roll across the lands.

McShuster’s head felt like it was under water, like it was floating away from him. He suddenly got dizzy and wanted to puke. “Offizzer Lazy, you seed that lady? Seed not good. I got no grillfriend to laugh whiff? Alone all-time ‘cause you don’t wears Patagonzia? To waltz in thirsty below wind chill? The rich have car and stop for ya. They hitz it, when your frozen fingauzes reach for the dough?” Blood trickled from his nose.

“You on something back there?” She studied his face. He looked like he was falling asleep. Fentanyl? She didn’t know.

Now what? Hospital? Going to be busy there tonight. How in the hell could she take him to the hospital? That would just get him killed. His victims must have already started arriving and their families would be showing up.

“I’m good.” He pulled himself up. “Thanks for loosenin’ up the cuffs. They were killin’ me. I never knew them things hurt so much.”

“I can turn this recorder off if your done talking,” Officer Tracy said.

“You know, they always let on they know my ma drinks too much or sleeps around. That gets old. I don’t like thinking about it all the time. In school I think about it because they give me the business.” McShuster was relieved to be away from the school. “I mean, I can’t even walk down the hall without a girl rolling her eyes or hoofing it around me. Ain’t official bullying, I suppose, but it still ain’t right in my book.” His voice cracked. “How I stop my ma from doing stuff?”

“I’m still recording. I read you your rights and you are free to remain silent. Is your mother the reason for tonight?”

“Well, I don’t for sure know why I did it tonight. I mean, I get it. School hurts everyone sometimes. Guess just maybe sometimes even if you’re hurting you got to do something. That’s why I did it. I mean, I wasn’t sure so I went to Mister Jerry Timm’s. He the one where the gun was. They in a safe but everyone knows the com.”

“Okay, for the record now. You were teased and it hurt so you went to a Timm’s house. You knew the combination to the safe. Is that right?”

“Yes. I think you know most of it, right? Can I get a phone call now?”

 “Are you calling a lawyer? I can stop this tape any time you want.”

“I need to call work because Dosh is a good boss. He owns Shorty’s by the old train depot. I gotta call so someone can cover tonight. I don’t think I’m going in tonight. My side’s killing me.”

“I am sorry but the last thing you need to worry about is going to work.”

“Look I am trying to do it right. I get hammered by a bunch of cops and feel like they broke my back. I get tossed in a squad car and so why do I have to also get fired now? Answer me that, Officer Dickless Tracey?” He immediately wished he hadn’t said it; the anger had overtaken him; but he knew he should have never said it.

“Look, I’ve been plenty good to you. My Megan—my daughter—was at that damn basketball game tonight. If she had gotten hurt, I’d made damn sure your back was broken. You wouldn’t be walking, let alone flipping burgers!” She too immediately regretted saying it.

Next Shooting

Looks like a soldier shot up a facility in Georgia. Then we have a soldier shooting in Montana. Hate to say it, but, "The Bee Killer" was spot on. Check it out on the link provided on this site. 

Georgia

When the going gets tough the tough showcase their contempt for fellow human beings in the name of their twisted reality.

Montana

The killing hasn't stopped. Question . . . When did humans become targets during times of peace? There can be no honor in the taking of life.

Installment #6 from 'People Shooter'

Gotta tell you this is based on reality. This is how it can and well happen. The part about the lady knowing he was a killer seems to happen too much. I mean, how would she know this?

“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.”

McShuster grimaced from stabs of sharp pain. He couldn’t answer nor did he see what the cop was pointing towards. His broken rib, if that’s what it was, made it feel like someone was pushing a long hot screw driver into his chest. It hurt so badly that he could only manage birdlike chirps.

“You think that’s funny?” The cop slammed McShuster back into the seat. The cop said something about wanting to kick some ass, and stomped off to where the gun was lying. A man was taking pictures of it. It was some kind of assault gun. That’s what his neighbor, the owner, called it. Now it was lying on the ground getting photographed. A skinny guy about his height approached the first picture taker and pointed at the gun. Obviously, he was from the paper and also wanted a shot.

  “Three-fourteen station headed to L.E.C. with one,” crackled the radio. McShuster looked up and saw Officer Tracy pushing her face to her shoulder mic. Voices were talking over each other but one did say, “We’re getting surveillance video. Four injured.” Then another one piped up that she thought it was six shooting victims. McShuster wondered how six got shot. Did I miss something here?

Officer Tracy got back in the squad and slammed the door. She drove off the curb, one tire at a time, before heading toward Second where a right turn would take them to the Police Station.

A lady in a bathrobe pushed herself out of the crowd and onto the street. As she bent down and hollered into the squad, McShuster looked down. “Is that you, Jimmy? Look at me. You’re gonna pay for this. If I had’da gun—” A man stepped in front of her and gently corralled her back to the crowd, but she spun and screamed, “I always knew you was a killer!”

Now We know

 I guess we can now say we know the where and when. Violence seems to be rolling into a way of life. 

Next School Shooting

Sometimes it gets to the point of a Mass Denial. We all know it's coming but we don't know where or when. Ominous. 

Installment #5 from 'People Shooter'

Confusion is bigtime in the offing. This is typically when suspects volunteer information that can and has been utilized to find them guilty. No question, issues regarding facts that are taken out of context reign supreme. We raise our children to respect elders, even when they should be in a protecting themselves mode.

“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.”