The Blimpton Murders

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The Blimpton Murders

Post  Ketic on Fri May 28, 2010 11:02 am


Day One

6/29 Monday
16:07
East Street 7 Eleven - 4th and 9th Apartments



"We got a call Rookie." A man said from the driver's seat of a police cruiser.

"I told you my name is Horace not Rookie." Horace sighed.

"Your name ain't nothin' until you earn it back. Your a cop now, not a agent for some government secret society facility horsespit." The older man snapped. "Now can we get on with this here call?"

"I'm not stopping you." Horace glowered.

The police cruiser pulled out of a parking lot with the siren blaring. Norman, the older cop, took a big slurp from his soda then looked over at his new partner. The kid had some sort of extra brains or somethin', but that didn't mean he was gonna be a good cop. Norman sucked in another big gulp then kept his eyes on the road.

The corner of 4th and 9th was rundown, and that was being generous. On a normal day, when sparks weren't spitting from the fourth floor of an apartment building, the call would be for a domestic disturbance or even a shooting. Norman stepped out of the cruiser and Horace followed. Lordy that blond hair of his is gonna get 'im shot. Norman scowled at Horace then cursed as a shower of sparks fell upon them.

"Can we go in?" Horace asked politely.

"YES!!" Norman shouted. "Of course! It is our call isn't it?" He spit and walked up to the apartment door.

Horace followed silently, unhappy about his luck with partners. Maybe he would grow to like Norman, but he couldn't see that happening anytime soon, or anytime really. Norman knocked a few times on the door but there was no answer so he just kicked it in.

"Damn apartments nobody answers the front door." Norman grumbled, rubbing his leg.

"Well they would all be in their apartments, not in the hallways, right?" Horace observed.

"Just shuddup and follow me in here." Norman kept one hand on his gun and entered the building.

It took ages for the older cop to find the fourth floor door that had sparks coming from under it. Horace had tried to lend a hand but the senior cop insisted he knew how apartments worked. Horace was now waiting as Norman knocked on the door over and over. The rookie waited for a notion that Norman was going to kick down the door but he just stood there, absently rubbing his leg.

Horace decided to choose his words carefully. "Oh boy can I kick it in?" He feigned excitement.

Norman glanced over and Horace's trick seemed to work. The old cop smiled slightly and took a step back. "Lesse what you can do to that door boy." He snorted then looked around. "Well go on!" He said when Horace hesitated. "With your size that door might kick you down!" Norman fell into a bit of laughter, then coughed heartily.

Horace took a step back and kicked the door. It shuddered, and Horace heard a crack, but it didn't open. Frustrated he kicked again. This time it opened and Horace gasped.

The inside of the apartment was terrifying. Garbage was stacked everywhere neatly, from a rotting pile of old fruit behind the door to a neat stack of twenty year old newspapers just next to the fruit. It smelled of dead things, and a few rodents scrambled out when Horace had opened the door. Shelves obscured most of the apartment, it was almost like a maze, Horace thought. A few small paths led around but there was no telling what horrors the rookie would encounter on the way in. He could see the flashing sparks were coming somewhere from the middle of the apartment so he turned to his partner.

"Which way?" He asked.

"Well right on in.. GOD DAMN!" Norman stepped forward and peered in. "Ah, we got a hoarder here. Best thing ta do is just go on in anyways."

Horace nodded hastily then gulped. His previous experience as a field intern for the FBI did not prepare him for sparking rooms of garbage. He briefly flashed back to one of his first assignments.

-

It was late, and Horace was sitting in the office of another agent. Agent Parks was grumpy, and it was obvious his bad mood was because of the double shift he was working. The deputy director had come to Parks himself and asked if he would take Horace out to a crime scene. 'It would be his first!' The deputy director had said. Parks had grudgingly agreed.

Now Horace was sitting there accepting glares from the senior agent. He waited a moment then Parks stood. Without saying a word, Horace rose and followed the agent out of the office. He knew that too many questions would put agents in a bad mood, and right now it seemed that one question would be way too much for Parks.

About half an hour later they were outside of the Hotel Grand, listening to a forensic something or other describe what had happened. Horace couldn't take his eyes off the small splattered figure near the front door. Blood surrounded the figure like a mattress, and Horace could clearly see the glazed over eyes of the dead man.

"Now make this clear to me!" Agent Parks shouted. "Evidence shows he was pushed right? Because the FBI doesn't need to be coming to every suicide in town."

The forensic something or other shied away for a moment then nodded vigorously. "Yes it seems he was pushed. We have a suspect too, because there was a witness."

A few moments later a homeless man covered in garbage was brought to the two men. He was mumbling about horses and cheese, and overall Horace just thought he sounded loony. The intern waited uncomfortably as Parks questioned the witness. The whole time Horace stood there all he could think about was the horrible smell that came off the man. He couldn't help but imagine what had made that horrible smell. Soon images of different horrid things were popping into his mind, mixing together to form that awful stench.

-

"Rookie you comin'?" Norman actually looked worried.

Horace, roused from his memories, fumbled for a moment. "Uh yeah, I uh was just trying to not smell anything."

"Yeh, you get used to it though!! My gramma stunk somethin awful when I was a boy." Norman patted Horace on the back as he entered the hoarder's apartment. "Nasal exhaustion ma boy!"

Horace nodded once again and tried to breathe deeply. He coughed and inhaling deeply after coughing only made him cough again. Norman looked at him, seemingly amused. Horace quickly found a pattern that worked. Inhale quick through mouth, exhale slowly through nose.

The two policemen navigated for half an hour, trying to find a way to the center. Norman and Horace took turns pointing out the most disgusting things they found. Horace found a pair of actually moldy socks, and Norman found what used to be a book. The book now looked more like a loaf of bread.

"I wonder what made it like that." Horace said in wonder.

"Don't matter. I'm sick of searchin dammit!" Norman stamped his foot, and Horace thought it was quite comical. "HEY WHOEVER LIVES HERE COME OUT DAMMIT!"

There was no answer. Horace felt for the older cop. That nasal exhaustion Norman had mentioned eventually worked, but the visual images still brought bile into the rookie's throat. Horace shifted his weight, then sniffed deeply. There was a new smell.

"Do you-" Horace began.

"Yep that there is smoke. Summin musta caught fire from the sparks." Norman sighed. "Well I'm bout done with this place, so lets clear a hole."

"What do you mean?" Horace asked the question, but just as expected, he got no answer.

Norman took a step back as far as he could, then rammed himself into a wall of the trash. It moved, but didn't fall. A determined look came on the older cop's sweaty face, and he rammed it again. Horace watched him do this a few times, then decided to help. Every time Norman hit the wall, Horace put all of his weight on it, trying to tip it. After a few exhausting minutes, the wall fell.

"Well would you look at that." Now Norman looked about to grin.

Horace turned and poked his head through the hole they had made. Dear god.. There was a clear space in the center of the room, and in it lay a body. Normally that wouldn't scare Horace, since he had been on crime scene duty for three months after that pushed jumper he had gone to with Parks. This body brought back all the horror he had felt the first time. The man was naked, only large tubes had been inserted into his body through what seemed like stab wounds. The crazy thing was that fireworks had been stacked in the tubes, and they were slowly sparking and going off every now and then.

"What the hell is this?" Horace asked in terror.

"Well that would be a body.. and it looks like somebody wanted to make a party of it."

"Question is, where are they now?" Horace added.

"Good question! Let's put these out and see what we can see." Norman grinned and took a step forward.

"Wait! Don't we need crime scene investigators?" Horace asked. His question was earnest, but he also didn't want to go near the sparking man.

"Nah, see here. I had a partner who was one of them science geeks. He taught me some stuff. But your right about puttin these out.. I wanna see 'em burn." Norman beckoned to Horace.

"So, what happened to that science geek?" Horace said as they observed the fireworks. The initial terror was gone and now he was kind of fascinated by the light show.

"Well he thought he could talk down this suicide jumper.. Went all psychology on him." Norman paused to chuckle a little. "Decided against my word and went up there to talk with him. Damn jumper pushed him, then jumped hisself."

"Wow." Horace frowned. How long has this guy been around?

"Alright you've seen enough for a rookie." Norman sighed. "You might as well call those crime geeks now."

Horace nodded hastily and left the apartment. Getting out took some doing, but soon he was back down on the street. He exited the apartment and saw a small crowd of people. He thought about talking to them, but decided against it when a media van drove up. Horace quickly made the call then went back into the apartment before the press could get a question to him.

Norman had found a chair and pushed some garbage off it. He now sat down and watched the fireworks burning. Something was funny about this, and not in the humorous way. Horace re-entered the small space with the body in it and nodded to Norman.

"Crime scene investigators are on the way." He said. "Media is already outside."

"Haha! Well this should be a show for them then." Norman had an evil grin on his face. "I hope it's me who gets to tell 'em how we found the body.. That should give the people at home somethin' to think about!"

Horace frowned. He didn't find this funny, but it was his first day as a street cop. Probably just need some time. The rookie shook his head and crouched down next to the body.

"Just what are you doing!?" A small man in a deep blue lab coat came in and shooed Horace aside. "Don't touch the body! In fact, you can go now. Go back to your donuts and coffee, I don't need two cops in here questioning me the whole time."

Horace frowned yet again. Pushy for a crime guy. The rookie looked at his partner and Norman nodded. They both stepped carefully out of the room and walked quickly back to the cruiser.

"Well that was strange." Horace commented once they were sitting in the nice stale air of the police car.

"Yes indeed. Well we should go to the station and write a report. By the time we are done I think shift will be over, so ye can relax now." Norman said, noticing the furrow of Horace's brow and his tense shoulders.

Horace sighed and nodded. He buckled up his seatbelt then closed his eyes, reviewing what had happened today. Then, he opened his eyes with a start. Norman is being nice to me.. Maybe it wont take so long after all. He closed his eyes again and calmly listened out the window, the sounds of the city filling the cruiser.


Last edited by Drake August on Thu Sep 02, 2010 7:55 pm; edited 5 times in total
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Ketic
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Insomnia

Post  Ketic on Fri May 28, 2010 12:05 pm

Day One

6/29 Monday
02:37
Apartment 6B



Horace sighed and rolled over. He couldn't sleep; his mind just wouldn't be calm. The twenty three year old got up and went to his small kitchen. He retrieved a can of soda then sat on the couch. He looked around for his remote but couldn't find it so he turned the television on by hand. There was nothing good on, but it was some background noise at least.

For a while Horace just paced around the room, tidying up. Then he heard something that caught his attention. He jumped over the back of his couch and sat down, watching the television intently. It was a replay of tonight's news. They were showing the crime scene he had been to today. Of course, they didn't mention the horrible smell, or the fireworks. I wonder if they found the guy after shift change. Horace was disappointed when the news reporter said that the police didn't have any suspects yet.

He stood up and downed his cola. Horace threw the can in the recycling then flopped on his bed. He shut his eyes and waited for himself to feel calm. Come on.. Horace rolled over and grabbed his iPod. He turned it on loud and shut his eyes, hoping the music would distract him.


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Burgers

Post  Ketic on Fri May 28, 2010 1:20 pm

Day Two

6/30 Tuesday
13:12
The Burger Bar



Norman took another bite of his burger and waved his hand dismissively. "No ya see," A glob of ketchup dripped from the corner of his mouth. "That there is the thing!" He wiped the sauce away with a napkin. "They found fireworks in his body too." Norman paused to finish chewing. "They said there was just meat and fireworks left and a few little bones."

"The killer took out most of his bones?" Horace frowned in disgust.

"Yep fer sure. They donno why though." Norman took another large chomp of his hamburger.

"Well of course they don't. There is no reason to take some dead guy's bones." Horace popped a fry into his mouth.

"No Rookie I seen some weird stuff in my time. Much weirder than stealin some bones."

Horace looked up from his soda. "Like what?"

"Well.." Norman adjusted himself in his seat and frowned, deep in thought. "There was this one time that.. well your too young for that story."

"Seriously?"

"Yer I'm gonna let the streets corrupt you, no sense in doin it myself." Norman finished off his hamburger.

"Well there was this time in the FBI that-" Horace began.

"No no no!" Norman took a big slurp of his shake. "Back to the case back to tha case. We gotta find some sort o' reason for this weird actin."

"I'm not sure that we are crazy enough to figure it out. Maybe if the killer killed again we could get more information." Horace thought aloud.

"Heh, boy. If that person does kill again you gonna be sorry you said that."

"Yeah your right."

"On the other hand, if he do kill again." Norman paused to take a drink then just sat there.

"On the other hand what?" Horace asked after a few moments of silence.

"What?"

"Nothing to add to that statement?"

"Oh yer, if he does kill again," Norman sized up Horace for about the fifth time that day. "I'm certain its gonna be weirder than this time."

"How do you know?" Horace asked, ignoring the pitying look Norman gave him.

"They always get weirder.. Oh and once you kill once you never stop let me tell you that! Unless yer a cop o'course." Norman finished his shake and made a big sucking sound with the straw, making sure he had it all.

"Well we haven't got any calls yet.. What should we do?" Horace frowned at the idea of having nothing to do.

"We veg, Rookie, we veg. Let that food digest." Norman chuckled. "Ye can't run on a full stomach."

Horace leaned back and looked out the window. People were walking past outside, occasionally looking in the window at him. Out of the corner of his eye Horace noticed Norman grab the last of his fries.

"Hey those are mine." Horace frowned at Norman.

"You ain't touched 'em for a while, so now they're mine." Norman smiled and shoved a few in his mouth.

"Fine." Horace grumbled. Will he kill again? And if he does, will we be the ones to find the body?

They sat for a few moments in silence, well it was quiet except for Norman's chewing. Then Horace thought of something.

"If he does kill again is there a way to make sure we get put on the case?"

"Whaddaya mean? We ain't no detectives, we are just grunts." Norman growled through a mouthful of fries.

"Well I'm intrigued I want to find the guy. And since we found the first body doesn't that mean we get to work the case?"

"I'll talk to the chief." Norman smiled at the Rookie. "Me 'n him are buddies. But no promises Rookie; I don't like serial killers. Gimme the creeps.


Last edited by Drake August on Thu Sep 02, 2010 7:56 pm; edited 3 times in total
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Barbecue

Post  Ketic on Fri May 28, 2010 3:52 pm

Day Two

6/30 Tuesday
17:22
2nd and 2nd
Richards Residence



The ambulance whizzed off away from the suburb and towards the hospital. Horace and Norman watched it go, then turned back to the three crying figures in the doorway of the two story victorian. As he approached, Horace realized it was a woman and her two children, twins by the look of them. He turned to his partner and mentor.

"So what do I ask them?" Horace asked nervously.

"I dunno Rookie but you better know by the time we reach 'em." Norman walked purposefully across the large front lawn.

"Why do I have to go solo on this one? It's only my second day." Horace fretted as he looked around for somebody that was going to back him up.

"And on your first day you didn't wanna be called Rookie." Norman snorted then silenced his laughter as they came into earshot of the three figures.

"Hello Ma'am, I'm Officer Parks." Horace greeted the woman nervously.

"Hello Officer." The woman turned to her kids. "Go on inside and get a drink ok?"

The kids looked at her with fear in their eyes for a moment, then side by side they retreated into the house.

"May I ask your name Ma'am?" Horace tried to be as polite as possible.

"Mrs. Richards. Penny Richards." Mrs Richards wiped at her face, trying not to smear the make-up she was wearing. "Would you like to come inside?"

"Yes please, thank you." Horace followed her inside and had a seat on one of the chairs that sat in the living room. Once Mrs. Richards was sitting Horace realized he had to speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?" Horace tried to look concerned.

"My husband was," She choked up. "He was grilling.. er, barbecuing.. steaks."

"Alright, so he was grilling steaks. What else?" Horace waited.

"We went inside for a few minutes, but John, thats my husband, spotted a man in our backyard."

"Ok." Horace nodded for her to continue.

"He went out to ask him why he was in our yard," She had a fit of sobbing then continued. "The man just ran off, didn't say anything or do anything, just ran."

"Then what?" Horace wished she would just tell him the whole story.

"Well he opened the grill and it.." She began crying again.

Horace waited but she didn't seem to be able to go on. He patted her on the shoulder.

"I'll be back in a few minutes Mrs. Richards."

Horace left her crying and found the back patio. It was a mess, there was blood, debris, and chunks of what Horace thought was meat. Human meat. He heard footsteps to his left and turned to see Norman.

"Look at this place." Horace said in wonder.

"Yep, we got some barbecue." Norman chuckled.

Horace glowered at him. How is this funny to him? He nodded to his partner and went back into the house. He was walking towards the living room when he heard voices coming from down the hall. Horace made his way down the hall and entered a kitchen. He stopped in his tracks.

A man wearing all black was standing, looking into an open fridge. His hair was black, nails were black, and boots were black. Horace reached for his gun very slowly. He unbuttoned the holster and tried to draw it without making a sound. He failed. The man turned around with a start and saw Horace drawing his gun. He bolted down another hall and Horace took off after him, one hand on his radio, one hand on holding his gun.

"Dispatch, this is Officer Potts, code 4473. 10-108(officer needs assistance) requested at 2nd and 2nd, scene of a 10-103(disturbance)." Horace chased the man outside and now he was running after him across the front lawn.

"Police Officer, stop!" Horace yelled at the man. The guy just kept running, it seemed as if he hadn't heard Horace.

"10-4, 4473 your backup is on the way." Dispatch responded through his radio.

Where the hell is Norman!? Horace was keeping up with the guy but he was beginning to wane. He struggled to find footing on the sidewalk and soon noticed he was falling behind. Horace didn't know how far he had ran but he knew he had dodged a few cars in the street so he guessed about two blocks. Ah, dammit screw this. Horace knew it was against regulations so he yelled out one more time to stop the man.

"Police Officer!" Horace stopped running and took aim. "Stop!!"

The man didn't stop running, but he looked back this time. Bang! Force rippled up through Horace's arm and he flinched, watching as an explosion of red erupted from the man's lower back. He fell forward onto his face, moaning and writhing. Horace holstered his pistol and sprinted over to the man. He grabbed both his arms and shoved them behind his back, then attached handcuffs to his wrists.

"Dispatch this is 4473 again, I have a 10-15(prisoner in custody) on the corner of 3rd and 2nd." Horace huffed into his radio.

"10-4, 4473."

A few seconds later, Norman sped around the corner in his cruiser, and pulled over near Horace. Norman jumped up out of the car and jogged around the side. His eyes went wide when he saw the blood.

"Damn Rookie you shot him?" Norman chuckled in disbelief.

"I had to," Horace paused, catching his breath. "He wouldn't stop running."

"I'll call for the ambulance. Meanwhile you can go sit in the car." Norman tried to be kind to the out of breath and shaking rookie.

"No," Horace fought to his feet. "I didn't get the full report from Mrs. Richards."

"I did," Norman paused to talk into his radio for a few moments, then turned to Horace. "Dude wearin' all black up and drops a damned bomb in their barbecue."

Horace frowned. "Wow, just like that?"

"Just like that, ka-boom on the hubby." Norman helped the guy in black stand up as the ambulance arrived. "Here ya go, nice and messed up for ya." He grinned at the EMTs who helped the man onto a stretcher.

"Thank you." Horace said to the man driving the ambulance. He nodded back at Horace, then sped off, siren wailing. Horace turned to Norman. "When is the shift change?" He asked, exhausted.

"'Few hours." Norman chuckled. "Seein' as your a rookie though, I'll let ya off now and cover for ya." The older cop winked at Horace.

Horace nodded enthusiastically then got in the cruiser with Norman. It slowly pulled out and headed towards the police station.

"You gonna file the report?" Horace asked hopefully.

"Naw, you gotta do that seein as you are the one who shot the fellow." Norman laughed and sped up.


Last edited by Ketic on Sun May 15, 2011 5:31 pm; edited 4 times in total
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Mistakes

Post  Ketic on Fri May 28, 2010 6:03 pm

Day Two

6/30 Tuesday
21:15
64th and State
Police Station



"I bet you are curious as to why we called you here, am I right Horace?" The male IA agent spoke for the first time.

"Yes, but I'm also curious why you are avoiding telling me." Horace shot at the Internal Affairs agents.

"You shot a man today, is that correct?" The female one spoke.

Horace eyed the two, and for some reason already thought poorly of them. The female one, or more aptly named Toad, was a brutish and cold woman. The man, Horace thought, looked like a child. He had a young face and he held himself as if he were still a teenager.

"Answer the question." Teenager said.

"Yes, I shot a fleeing suspect." Horace replied simply.

"Alright." Toad replied.

Silence.

"What? That's it? Why the hostility if you just wanted to know if I shot someone? Why not read the report?" Horace asked, genuinely confused.

"Because," Teenager said in a menacing voice. "That boy didn't do anything criminal! Maybe shoplift once or twice but thats it!"

Horace frowned. The guy had run from the scene, right? Was it wrong to chase someone who Horace suspected could have put the bomb in the grill?

"Despite what you may have thought," Toad began. Horace braced for a lecture. "And I don't know how you got suspect from a kid looking in the fridge, the boy is Jim Richards. We have a sworn statement from his two younger brothers and from his mother, stating that he was upstairs in his room the whole time."

"So.. Why did he run?" Horace said, fear cracking his voice.

"He is a degenerate." Teenager said simply. "Cops are a symbol of 'the man' to him, and he defies the man. He probably thought you had him on drug charges or something like that."

"Well then he should have stopped when I pulled my gun!" Horace rose from his seat. "I warned him twice, and the second time I yelled at him, he looked back and saw my gun was drawn. If he wasn't guilty of something serious he would have stopped." Horace stated, but he remained standing.

"Why didn't you taze him?" Toad asked. She was clearly more interested in the facts than Teenager was.

"Oh, because my tazer application form has been sitting on an IA approval desk somewhere for two weeks!" Horace shouted. "My firearms test and application were approved in the same day! I don't understand why, when you are part of law enforcement, you act like you are on some different team."

Teenager stayed quiet, but Toad seemed to feel some sort of sick sympathy for him, because she smiled weakly at him.

"I'm sorry Horace, but we are going to have to take your badge and your sidearm. You are to be suspended until you have been cleared or convicted of charges." Toad said almost sadly.

Horace frowned, then plopped his badge on the table. "You have my sidearm already, it was confiscated when I came in tonight." He slid the badge to Toad then moved to leave.

Teenager moved to stand in his way. Horace stood a full head above the IA agent and Teenager quickly stepped aside, looking away. Horace stormed out of the interrogation room and paused to quickly shake Norman's hand.

"Don't give up on that case." Horace said sullenly.

"You will be back soon, no doubt." Norman frowned. Somehow, in record time, he had grown attached to the inquisitive rookie.

"Yeah, I shot a kid Norman." Horace smiled weakly. "5 to 10."

"No way Rookie. You were chasin' a suspect I saw it myself." Norman was going to continue but Horace was walking away. He waved as he left, but he was clearly upset. "I'll be in touch!" Norman shouted after him.


Last edited by Drake August on Thu Sep 02, 2010 7:57 pm; edited 2 times in total
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Phone Call

Post  Ketic on Fri May 28, 2010 6:32 pm

Day Three

7/01 Wednesday
07:46
Apartment 6B



Horace heard the phone ringing and rose lazily from his spot in front of the tv.

"Hello?" He picked up the phone and spoke into it with no emotion.

"Rookie! Hey there, sorry ta bother you so early but I got something.. what was it that you said.. interesting." Norman spoke loudly and enthusiastically over the phone, so loud in fact that Horace could already tell he was going to get a headache.

"Yeah what is it?" Horace replied, still with no emotion.

"Well it's about the case." Norman said, and Horace immediately brightened.

"Go on, go on."

"Well the auto guy-"

"Autopsy." Horace corrected.

"Yeah the autopsy guy said that he found something strange with the fireworks."

"Which was..?" Horace was almost giddy with anticipation.

"He said the ones in the tubes were uh, normal sparks, like yellow, but the ones on the inner side of the remains were all red white and blue. Like the American flag amigo." Norman frowned as he spoke, still trying to figure out the significance.

"Hmm. So what the killer is American? Hates America? Or heck couldn't find any fireworks except for Memorial Day fireworks? It means nothing Norman." Horace hung up the phone and went back to the couch, but with even less energy this time.


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Building full of Bootcampers

Post  Ketic on Fri May 28, 2010 6:58 pm

Day Four

7/02 Thursday
16:47
9th and State
Stan Billings University Dorm B



Norman stepped out of his cruiser and surveyed the dorm. It looked like any other college dorm. Except for the fact that Norman knew what waited for him inside. The chief had agreed to his request, and Norman was in on the case permanently. Really there was no established connection between the hoarder with fireworks in him and this dorm, but Norman was confident he could find one once he had examined the scene.

He trotted across the lawn at a brisk pace, somehow missing the endless questions and observations that Horace would make. He approached the front door and another police officer was waiting for him. Without saying anything, the officer opened the door for him. Wow, I could get used ta that.

Once inside, the smell of iron hit him like a wave. A smell that strong could only come from one thing. Lots and lots and lots of blood. Norman quickly ascended the stairs to the second floor and staggered at the top. Blood was smeared on all the walls, even the ceiling. Sweet Mary Lou...

Norman rested his hands on his belt, and walked to where a few FBI agents were standing. They saw him approaching and immediately quieted. He frowned at them but they didn't continue their conversation.

"Whaddaya got so far boys?" Norman asked, trying to look friendly.

"Well we-" one of the agents began to speak.

"We don't have anything at all." One of the shorter, older FBI agents interrupted.

Norman's frown deepened. "Oh really," Norman darted forward and snatched a piece of paper from one of the agent's hands. "Then what's this here note that you were all examinin so intently before I showed up?"

The agents were quiet, so the old cop began to examine the paper. It seemed like a roster of some sort, with signatures down the whole page. At the top in bold letters it read 'Bootcampers Signatures'.

"Whatsa Bootcamper?" Norman asked the agents.

The old one sighed, but responded. "We think they were making a pact to all go into basic training together."

"Like the army?" Norman asked.

"Yes, just like the army." The old one answered dryly.

"Well then.." Norman folded the note and deposited it in his pocket. "Lets have a look at these bodies.. how many again?"

"Count the signatures." The young agent looked almost haunted as he spoke.

Norman pulled out the note to count the signatures, but realized it was well over ten so he just put it back.

"Lets get to it boys." He set off towards one of the rooms.

The search for clues began with Norman quickly checking over each room for something obvious. After that had come up with no results, he examined the bodies as thoroughly as he could. Still no clues arose.

"Who just kills a bunch of kids?" The young FBI agent asked while Norman was examining one of the bodies.

"I dunno kid. I ain't seen somethin like this in a long time."

Norman could easily tell why the young man was bothered. He could have been one of these kids not three years ago. Sighing, Norman moved to the next room. This is the last chance I have of finding something...

The old cop's search came up empty. He left the building late into the night, crestfallen. What a damned waste of time. Even though he had failed, Norman held a faint hope that the forensic investigators might find something. Just gotta go to the station and file another report, then I can head home.


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Burglary

Post  Ketic on Mon May 31, 2010 5:01 pm

Day Five

7/03 Friday
01:09
Apartment 6B



The night air was cool and damp as it blew in through the open window. Something obscured the airflow into the apartment for but a moment. The figure made barely any sound as it moved through the second floor living space, heading for the kitchen.

Horace rolled over onto his back. He couldn't sleep yet again. I wonder when they will have my hearing. Horace sat up and took a glass of water from next to his bed. As he was drinking, Horace could have sworn he heard footsteps in his apartment. Great no sleep and now I'm hallucinating.

Horace stood and ruffled his blond hair. Time for a haircut. He walked into the hall and about halfway to the living room, froze in his steps. The sound came again, a quiet beat of footsteps on tile. Making his footsteps as silent as he could, Horace made his way to the kitchen doorway.

There, in the darkness of the kitchen, was a man about Horace's height. He seemed to blend into the darkness, and Horace guessed that he must have been wearing black. I'm being robbed! The young cop watched as the man trifled through a drawer.

"Hey!" Horace shouted at the man as he entered the kitchen.

The burglar turned to look at him, but he didn't seem surprised. The thief brandished a bread knife in Horace's direction and shook his head in warning.

"Man I'm a cop you think I'm afraid of you?" Horace growled as he slowly advanced on the man wearing black.

The two men circled slowly for a moment, Horace doing all the talking. Then, when Horace neared a small countertop that connected with the living room, the man charged.


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Names and a breakthrough

Post  Ketic on Tue Jun 08, 2010 11:23 pm

Day Five

7/03 Friday
11:05
Blimpton Channel Five Morning News - Burton Residence



Kara re-stacked her papers and looked at her co-anchor. He looked ready enough, not that he was ever really ready. She turned to producer and waited. After a few moments, he began a countdown on his fingers, starting with five. When he hit one, Kara composed herself and looked straight at the camera. A red light came on and she smiled at the camera as Bob, her co-anchor, began speaking.

"Good morning Blimpton!" The anchors said in unison.

"Welcome to the Channel Five Morning News. I'm Bob Goodman."

"And I'm Kara Stevens." Kara added.

"The police station has released more information about the recent murders around town." Bob said.

"Yes, our top reporter, Sascha Bree, is live outside of the justice building." Kara added once again.

The light on the camera went dark and a small screen just above it lit up. A woman, Sascha Bree, was speaking into a microphone. She was standing in front of a large building, and behind her was a crowd of people looking towards the building. The audio cut in and Kara was slowly able to hear what she was saying.

"-said that they have a lead on the massacre at Billings University. The infamous 'Patriot Killer' is indeed responsible." Sascha paused to glance down at her paper.

"Is that really what they are calling that monster?" Bob asked into his microphone.

"Yes." Sascha said after a small delay. "The Blimpton forensics lab has confirmed that DNA from the scene matches to the DNA found at the barbecue bombing as well as the stabbing on 4th and 9th. Unfortunately, they have informed me that the DNA found is not in their database. As of now, the police still do not have a suspect."

-

The camera cut back to the anchors but Norman switched the television off. He grabbed his cell phone and tried to reach Horace again. There was no answer. Damn, where is that kid?

Norman stood and dressed in his uniform. Like every day, he walked outside and stepped into his cruiser. Norman had just decided to go check on Horace when he got a call. Another patriot killing. Dammit! I'll have to go talk to Horace after this call.


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O' The Red White the Blue

Post  Ketic on Thu Jul 29, 2010 12:23 am

Day Five

7/03 Friday
14:29
Northrook Apartments - Apartment 6B



The call had led nowhere, and now Norman was headed towards Horace's apartment. Weather looks bad.. Norman stepped out of his cruiser and entered the apartment building. He hiked up the stairs at a remarkably slow pace, breathing as if he had just run a marathon.

Norman knocked three times, but there was no answer. He knocked a fourth time and he heard a window break from the inside of the apartment.

"Whuzzat?" Norman nearly roared as he slammed his shoulder into the door, knocking it from the hinges.

Inside the apartment wasn't a pretty sight; there was trash and rubbish everywhere, making it stink. And that wasn't including the large pool of blood dripping from the body on the coffee table.

-

Norman watched as the forensic doohickey people analyzed the body. Well in truth it wasn't a body, it was just skin. And on the american flag was painted on the skin.

The news crews were like hounds trying to get a piece of meat, or rather a shot of the red white and blue meat. There were giant crowds outside and it bothered Norman immensely. This could be his partner's skin, and people were loving it.

Norman decided he could wait no longer. He stepped forward and poked one of the forensic people on the shoulder. The man was taller and thinner and younger than Norman.

"What?" He asked angrily.

"So?" Norman felt the butterflies in his stomach start flying around.

"So... what?" The younger man scowled.

"So was someone making jerky or is that my partner!?" Norman stormed.

"We already confirmed that some of the blood matches Mr. Parks, but the DNA from the skin does not."

"So is he alive or dead?" Norman didn't like having to ask so many questions or say the word 'so' so many times.

"The amount of Mr. Parks' blood found would suggest that he is still alive, but wounded."

"Alrighty then! Thats all ya had to say. I'll go search for my partner now." Norman left quickly, conquering the descending stairs in a matter of seconds. He left the building and got into his cruiser, a determined look on his face.

I'm comin' buddy.





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Wander

Post  Ketic on Wed Aug 25, 2010 1:22 pm

Day Five

7/03 Friday
19:31
Unknown Location



Horace moved down the dark hallway, panting as he did so. Almost there... Horace stopped next to a crate and collapsed into the welcome hiding spot.

Without thinking about it, the young cop's eyes drifted to his injured right leg. A giant gash went from about an inch above his knee down to his ankle. Horace grimaced and quickly took off his white undershirt. He ripped it and bound his leg as best as he could. That isn't going to last me long...

Horace would have spent longer on his leg but he knew he was being followed and he had to figure out where in hell he had ended up. He stood shakily and began hobbling again.


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Council

Post  Ketic on Thu Sep 02, 2010 7:30 pm

Day Six

7/04 Saturday, The Fourth Of July
06:04
Blimpton FBI Headquarters



Norman stepped into the room warily, eying all the suits in the room. Spencer Rhodes, FBI chief director Spencer Rhodes, motioned for the old cop to have a seat. Norman slowly narrowed his eyes but sat down compliantly.

Rhodes adjusted himself then cocked his head and considered Norman. "I imagine you are wondering just what this meeting is about." It was a rhetorical question. "Well, The Patriot Killer..." Rhodes waited as an assistant came in with a pot of coffee and some mugs. She set them on the table, then with a gesture from Rhodes, left the room. "Where was I? Oh right, The Patriot Killer. Well we know who he is, for one."

"Really?" Norman burst upwards from his seat and glared at the FBI chief director. "Then what are we doing sitting around here?? Lets go bust that punk!" Norman pumped his fist in the air but all the suits just stared at him. "Well if this isn't a mission briefing what is it?"

"Sit down, Mr. Burton." Rhodes gritted his teeth and waited for Norman to sit down. "Now if I may continue without being interrupted, I will get to the point." Rhodes took a sip of his coffee and looked around the room dramatically. "As I was saying, we know who the Patriot Killer is." Norman was about to interrupt again but Rhodes held up his hand. "His name is Adair Clarke. An Ex-Royal Marine with a huge grudge against the US. A few years back we found out he was smuggling drugs through Britain into the US, we exposed him and he was stripped of his rank and thrown to the dogs; figuratively of course. Well somehow he has made his way into the US with a shit-ton of explosives. He took out our surveillance team last night. Just after they were killed, we received an anonymous tip that Clarke was planning to place a bomb on one of the parade floats today."

"What does that have to do with my missing partner, sir?" Norman mustered his politeness and grimaced as his own ass-kissering tone.

"The skin found at Mr. Parks' apartment belonged to a run-of-the-mill street thug. However we recovered blood samples from the scene that indicate both Clarke and Parks were there." Rhodes paused to take a sip of his coffee.

"Of course Horace was there, it is his apartment!" Norman growled, feeling the blood rush to his face in rage.

Rhodes ignored Norman. "This evidence indicates that Mr. Parks has probably been taken captive by Clarke. For what reason does not matter." Rhodes turned a glare at Norman who had been about to interrupt. "What does matter is that Horace has not made contact with us." For a moment, concern clouded Rhodes' eyes.

Is that for Horace or for the bomb? Norman wondered. "What is Clarke's agenda?" Norman asked the question that nobody else had asked even though he had been waiting.

"We have information that indicates when he first came to the U.S. he was planning to assassinate the President. Now, for some reason, he has started killing randomly."

"I don't understand.." Norman's brow furrowed and one of the suits laughed. "You think somethings funny Mr. Suit?!" Norman stood up and glowered at the man who looked no older than 30. "I don't see you crawling the streets, chasing some guy who has an obsession with red white and blue! I don't see you looking at a stab victim, charred remains, or a building full of dead kids! I don't see you searching for your partner desperately while hope runs out! So you think somethins funny? I think you are a joke, thats whats funny." Norman sat back down.

Rhodes waited for a moment, then sighed. "Are you done Mr. Burton?" His tone was infinitely patronizing.

Norman considered this for a few moments, then nodded to Rhodes. "Yes." He said solemnly.

"Back to the reason for this meeting.." Rhodes took one last sip of his coffee and set the mug on the table very slowly. "Everyone in this room will be attending the parade today." At that, heads shot up. Some in fear, some in excitement, others in pure surprise. "All of you will search for that damn bomb, and when you find it you will radio command and get a bomb squad in there! Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded. Norman wondered if he would be the one to find the bomb. But what about Horace?
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Shiny

Post  Ketic on Thu Mar 24, 2011 2:34 pm

Day Six

7/04 Saturday, The Fourth of July
11:26
Corner of State and 9th



Norman shifted his weight and sighed in the heat. He would rather be in his cruiser canvassing the local drug houses for Horace, not waiting around for the other FBI agents to show up; but saving lives was important, and Norman knew they had to work together if they were going to find the bomb. If there even was a bomb.

Norman knew the FBI wanted to find some reason for the fireworks in the body and all the other mumbo but the killings just seemed angry to Norman. The fireworks may have had some meaning, but after that no. The first killing was slow and arduous work. Clarke would have had to have hours to remove all the bones from that body. Yet the second was violent, explosive, and instant. The third was just mad stabbing and more stabbing. Finally, the latest was almost exactly like the first. Just skin and meat.

His hand unconsciously wandered to the receipt from the hobby shop on 4th that was tucked in his pocket. As Norman pondered Clarke's motives, three black SUV cars pulled up next to his cruiser. The old cop turned and glowered.

"'Bout time dontcha think?" Norman growled. "I figured I was gonna have ta search for the bomb by myself." There was not a hair of surprise in Norman when Rhodes was nowhere to be seen. Too dangerous for his type I guess.

Norman recognized the young FBI agent from the dorm investigation. "There was traffic." He looked apologetic at the old cop.

"Well we better be goin' through these floaties now right?" Norman sighed. The young one kind of reminded him of Horace. Only a little though.

"Uh Mr. Burton, this is your radio." Another FBI agent stepped forward and handed Norman a complicated gadget. "I'm Whiskey and this is my partner Charlie. These other two SUVs are our tech teams." Norman noticed that Whiskey didn't bother introducing the other four agents.

"I don't need that techy stuff. I still got a holler in me you know!" Norman patted his beaten up radio that was in his right breast pocket. "I just needa know the uh, frequency." The old cop gritted his teeth at the smart person word.

"We insist. These radios are much easier to use and certainly clearer than yours." Whiskey reached for Norman's radio.

"Fine."

Norman spent the next fifteen minutes not searching for the bomb, but trying to figure out how the radio worked.

-

Horace groaned stopped walking. If he didn't stop and properly bandage his leg he would never get out of here alive. As his eyes drifted to a door on his left, there was an echoing thud from far behind him. I can't avoid him forever.. But maybe just a bit longer.

The rookie reached for the door and sighed with relief when it came open. He stepped inside and squinted. The windows were boarded up but he could make out musty and dull shapes. Chairs and a desk at the front of the room. A bell sounded in Horace's head. He knew where he was. G.B. Elementary on the corner of State and 9th. What a convenient hideout. The school had been closed for years and just recently Horace remembered reading about plans to demolish it in the paper. When the construction crews started milling around the police had stopped periodically checking for squatters.

Horace moved to the desk and looked around for anything he could use. There was an old sweater hung over the back of the chair and Horace grabbed it eagerly. He removed his makeshift bandage and set to work with the sweater.

-

Norman sat on the hood of his cruiser and sighed. All the floats had been cleared and there was no trace of any bomb. He bit into his turkey sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. If Clarke was really at large he would certainly be at the parade today, there was no doubt about that. Norman had no idea how he was going to pick him out of the crowd though.

As Norman ate, the parade director, a ninny of a man with a wig, walked up to him. After a few seconds of strange silence the man spoke. "Thank you for checking the floats Officer Burton. At the FBI's request the parade will start an hour later and move in a circle instead of a line."

"Whaddaya mean by a circle?" Norman tried his best not to be rude.

"I mean the parade will start here and end here." The parade director smiled and gave a little bow before turning away. "Have a nice life!" He said happily.

Norman frowned. He didn't see how the parade could move in a circle and end here when all the city blocks were squares. Oh well, at least I can get back to searching for Horace. As Norman finished his sandwich he suddenly had an idea. What if there was no bomb to be found because Horace had somehow taken out Clarke? What if Horace was trying to find Norman as he had this thought?

-

Horace froze as the footsteps grew louder. He tried to quiet his frantic breathing with little success. The Patriot Killer was right outside the door to the classroom. The footsteps stopped and Horace heard a chuckle.

A thick british accent sounded from the other side of the door. "Officer Parks, I have no interest in you any longer. I will now be leaving the building and carrying on with my plans. You however will not be leaving the building."

Horace jumped to his feet and started for the door but the click of the lock was unmistakable. "You won't get away." Horace heard his suspect begin walking away. "Coward." He shouted after him.

The footsteps stopped. "I think we both know who the coward is Officer Parks." Clarke walked briskly away and didn't look back.


17:56


Horace panted and fell back into a nearby chair. He had tried everything. Throwing himself at the door, unsuccessful. Throwing a chair at the door, unsuccessful. Throwing a chair at the window, unsuccessful. Now he looked around wondering what he could do. I've been in here for hours. The air was musty and Horace had started having trouble breathing about an hour ago.

Only one thing left to try. Horace moved to the teacher's desk and broke one of the legs off with little effort. Then he moved to the window and began prying at the boards.


18:23


Norman sat on the side of the float and tried to smile at the crowds. He didn't like so many people looking at him but this was the best way to canvas the crowd for Clarke. The parade had only started about twenty minutes ago but Norman figured Clarke would appear sooner than later.

The cheering and clapping of the crowd added to the loud music coming from every float and Norman fought off the urge to plug his ears. Charlie was on the other side of the float looking for Clarke and Norman didn't want to be beaten out by a rookie. Instead of plugging his ears Norman focused his attention on the crowd.


18:48

Horace pried the last board off the window and looked at the dull glow of the streetlamps outside. He had heard the parade start some time ago, but seeing it was something else. Many floats flanked by hundreds of people moved down the street. For a moment Horace watched and was surprised when the floats began to get bigger. They are moving closer.. They must have changed the course of the parade.

Horace grimly took note of how he was three stories high. There is no way I'm going to climb out of here on this leg. As he despaired Horace noticed something peculiar. None of the crowd was really watching the back end of the parade because the first two floats were so spectacular. Shooting off fireworks periodically and playing loud music. The strange thing was that one of the floats, the very last one, had stopped moving. No one seemed to notice.

Horace went to the desk again and retrieved the small flashlight that he had been using to search the room as evening fell. He went to the window and turned the flashlight on. I don't know if you are out there Norman, but if you are I hope you know morse code.
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Flashy

Post  Ketic on Mon Mar 28, 2011 1:09 am

Day Six


7/04 Saturday, The Fourth of July
18:48
Corner of State and 9th



The emotion was overwhelming as the finale fireworks started. Norman rubbed his eyes. Come on you gotta be somewhere out there ya dirty rat. Under the din of the crowd and fireworks, Norman didn't hear Charlie gasp.

"Norman!" Charlie shouted and looked to the other side of the float. He couldn't make out the old cop but he knew he was there. The young FBI agent began to make his way across the float but suddenly there were sparks beneath him. Charlie jumped backwards just in time as fireworks shot from the center of the float. Hard pavement met the young FBI agent and he saw darkness unaffected by the fireworks.

When the fireworks erupted Norman gripped the float and fought to not plug his ears and make a fool of himself in front of half of Blimpton. At the back end of the parade, the last float started moving again.

-

Horace saw the float begin to move and cursed. He had no doubt that Clarke had just installed a bomb on that float. Horace saw the fireworks start on the third float and knew they were going to go down in a line towards the back of the float. I need to stop that last float before its turn comes..

His arms strained but Horace was able to open the window. A blast of fresh air hit him and he breathed in. He briefly tried the morse code again but with all the fireworks he doubted anyone saw it. Then an idea came to his head.

The first of the floats was just about to pass under him. Horace looked down the street and saw the point where the parade was going to end. The last float would have just passed this block at that point. I thought the parade was going to end on this corner... I guess not.

-

Norman frowned when his float didn't stop. The parade director had told him the parade would end at this corner but the floats and crowd just kept moving. He shook his head and looked behind him. Fireworks were shooting out of the center of the float but Norman saw a faint shape on the other side of the float. So Charlie hasn't spotted anything either..

The old cop sighed and scanned the crowd again. The parade was almost over and Clarke hadn't shown up. Maybe he decided to call it quits and run. Norman thought of Horace. He hoped wherever he was that he was still alive. As soon as this parade is over I won't quit lookin'. Norman would never admit it but he had come to like Horace very quickly and didn't want another rookie partner dumped on him.


18:58


His leg ached and Horace was second guessing his plan. Jumping from the third story window onto a parade float that was shooting fireworks into the sky wasn't a very attractive idea. Horace was desperate and he couldn't think of any other options. The float was coming closer and Horace knew when he hit that float he was only going to have about a minute to find and disable the bomb. His eyes scanned for the Patriot Killer one last time but he couldn't really make out any of the faces in the crowd.

Horace took one last breath and checked his position again. The last float was almost under his window. It was a smallish float but Horace knew if he timed it right that the fall wouldn't be fatal. Here goes! The cop jumped from the window and shouted as he fell towards the float.


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Heroism

Post  Ketic on Mon May 02, 2011 4:41 pm

Day Six


7/04 Saturday, The Fourth of July
18:49
Corner of State and 9th





The sensation of falling lasted only a couple of seconds. The pain from hitting the float was sure to last weeks. Horace's legs buckled as he crashed down onto the parade float; his hands frantically felt for something to grab onto but he slipped and slammed backwards onto the pavement. Officer Parks shook his head and stood up as quickly as he could. He sprinted to the float and grabbed the flashlight out of his pocket. Good thing I didn't land on this.

Horace found the bomb immediately. It was on the lower back end of the float. Fear gripped the rookie's mind but he swallowed and kept moving as he eyed the explosive device. Two tubes of different colored liquid were fastened to either side of what was obviously a detonator. Horace tried to stay calm as he watched the time move to fifty nine seconds. Okay Horace, you can do this.

-

Just as Norman's float reached a corner it veered to the left and crashed through a crowd of people.

"What the heck?" Norman gripped the float harder and looked towards Charlie.

Clarke rested his gun on the center of the float. It was still warm from the fireworks. "Hello Officer Burton. Fancy seeing you here."

Norman let out a growl and jumped towards Clarke. He heard the gun fire and then a burning heat erupted from his right shoulder. "Agh!" Norman fell back, barely gripping the float.

"Don't come near me and I won't shoot you again." Clarke smiled then a frown crossed his face and he quickly checked his watch. He touched his ear and began speaking into what Norman figured was a radio. "Aster pick up the pace. This float needs to be moving faster."

"What for?" Norman clenched his teeth and glowered at the Patriot Killer.

"We don't want to get blown up right?" Clarke frowned at Norman. "If you want I could just shoot you, but I don't think your partner would like that."

It took a second for Clarke's words to register in Norman's head. "Horace is alive? Where is he?"

"He is somewhere protected from the blast. I have no doubt he will be fine; its you that you should be worried about." The float suddenly lurched and was now moving down the road much faster.

"Shouldn't the cops be chasin' this thing?! Where are we going?!" Norman shouted across the float.

"Your 'cops' are pre-occupied with stopping the parade and tending to Charlie I would imagine. We are headed to my getaway car, and then to my getaway jet. Is that specific enough?"

Norman squinted at Clarke. He didn't want to let him go but he knew that a bomb was going to go off soon and he wanted to stop it desperately.

"Norman don't be stupid." Clarke almost giggled. "We are streets away from the bomb now, there is nothing you can do; and besides, I have a gun pointed at you. Do you think I would just let you run away?"

-

Nineteen seconds. Horace didn't have any more time to stare at the thing. He crouched down grabbed one of the tubes. This should work I think! Horace pulled as hard as he could and the tube broke free, spraying liquid everywhere; then, he grabbed the rest of the bomb and unfastened it from the float. Eight seconds. Horace sprinted as fast as he could on his injured leg and threw the remnants of the bomb into a nearby store window.

Officer Parks saw the inside of the store light up for a half-second, then he felt himself falling again.
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The End

Post  Ketic on Sun May 15, 2011 5:36 pm

Day Nine


7/07
10:48
Blimpton General Hospital
3rd Wing, Room B6




Horace blinked and groaned as someone shook his arm. He forced his eyes open and found himself looking at a face. Horace knew the face but couldn't put a name to it right away.

"Good morning Officer Parks!" Police Chief O'Connor's bearded smile sent Horace's memory reeling.

There were lights and loud noises and a lot of pain. He quickly recalled the events of the fourth of july and shook his head slowly. Finding his voice, he frowned at the Chief.

"I'm sorry sir, I panicked and just threw the bomb. Was anybody inside that storefront?"

"No son, it was closed for the night. How do you feel?" O'Connor set his hand on Horace's shoulder.

"I feel okay thank you sir." Horace glanced around the room. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Three days."

Horace winced. Three days was a long time to be unconscious. "Did we get Clarke? Where is Norman?" Horace looked around the hospital room again but Norman wasn't there.

"We found Clarke's body on the runway. He had been thrown from a jet that was taking off it seems. As for Norman, he is still missing."

"Missing?" Horace's eyes widened and he brushed his hair back in despair. "Did he go missing the night of the parade?"

"Yes. We believe that he was taken hostage by Clarke. Although seeing how Clarke is dead, we can't be sure."

"Am I fit for duty?" Horace sat up and mentally checked himself over. Aside from some aches and pains he felt fine.

"Yes you are son. But how about you take the rest of the day off. You can brief us on your abduction tomorrow."

"Yes sir." Horace sighed and sat back against the bed. He closed his eyes and for a moment he felt like he was back in the cruiser on his first day.


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