By Tessa Dean April 2022
Jonathan Morey punched the gas pedal as hard as possible, which caused him to stay ahead of the lone cop behind him only briefly. The cop behind him, lights flashing, sirens blaring, was slowly catching up to Jonathan on the back road.
Jonathan noticed lights in the distance in front of him. He thought this was just a small town, and he certainly wasn’t expecting such a huge cop presence. He slammed on his brakes and tried to find a side road, but the cop behind him was now on his tail. Since he wasn’t sliding, he must have chains on his tires. He was driving through a town prepared for snow driving, and he was sure they had plenty of snow each year. The cop had plenty of experience driving in the snow.
Jonathan barely stopped before hitting the first cop car in his way, and the one behind him was on his tail. The road was icy, and you could see the footprints on the ice by the orange cones placed on the road. He didn’t know what to do as the body in the back seat was a dead giveaway that he had murdered someone. He couldn’t talk himself out of this.
No one moved. The cops didn’t know if he was armed, and they weren’t taking a chance. If he got out of his car and brandished a gun around, they would simply shoot him in the knee if he refused to give up. It was a standoff, and he wasn’t in a good position. His only choice was to give up.
“Please step out of the car with your hands up and place them on your hood with your feet spread,” one of the cops shouted. All of the cops had guns pointed at him.
Eight against one wasn’t very good odds. He didn’t move to get out of the car. He slid his hand over and picked up his gun beside him on the seat. It was loaded, and he pulled it up to this head and shot himself.
The cops were confused as they thought one of them had shot him, but then he toppled over, and they hoped he was dead and had shot himself. That would make this whole situation much easier. They all inched their way out of their cars and towards the stranger in the car. There was plenty of blood, and his hand was on his gun.
“Oh my God,” one of the officers said. The body in the car was the chief’s daughter, Maddie. One of them would have to tell him. They could hear his voice over the radio asking for a status. No one moved. They checked her pulse, and she was dead. One of them had to tell him. They decided that the man with the lowest rank had to tell him. Gerry slowly headed to one of the cars and grabbed the radio.
“Uh, Sir, we have some bad news. The woman he took was Maddie. I am sorry, but she is dead.”
After several minutes of silence, the voice said to take her to the hospital, and he would meet them there. She was loaded into the ambulance. The radio was still on, and the chief was crying. No one said anything. They processed the scene after her body was sent to the hospital.
Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses
New Author’s Website – http://www.tessadeanauthor.wordpress.com
Author – Old Writing – http://www.finallyawriter.wordpress.com
About my life – http://www.tessacandoit.wordpress.com
Author of a book published on the blog, https://tessacandoit.com/government-property-a-memoir-as-a-military-wife/
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