Chapter 2

Sharon could feel her heart breaking. Jim looked lost beyond words. Insane with rage. He gripped the steering wheel with viselike hands, his brow etched with deep furrows as he peered into the shadows along the edges of the street. The sorrow Sharon had expected to see wasn't there. Instead, his bright azure-colored eyes burned with hate. His teeth were clinched so tight she thought his jawbone might snap. "Jesus…" Sharon lowered her head and wept quietly, her face buried in her hands, her large frame jerking with each uncontrolled sob. She felt foolish. She took a deep breath and held it, then another, and another, until she had enough control of herself to speak.

"Jim?" She said, her voice cracking. "What are we doing?" Jim continued to peer through the windshield. Sharon placed her hand on his shoulder. "Don’t you think Bagwell will be wondering where we are? Jim? We need to get back to the station."

"I’m not going back."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I’m finished."

"Finished?"

"With everything. Running calls. Being spit on. Risking my life to help other people. Fools! You know what our illustrious supervisor just told me? Said, ‘Come straight back to the station, Stockbridge. Fill out an incident report before you run any more calls.’"

"He expects you to stay on the truck?"

"Idiot!"

"After all that’s happened?"

"Don’t worry," Jim said. He turned the corner and idled slowly up Taylor. "I’m not."

"Well, well what are you going to do?"

"You don’t want to know. There!"

"What?"

"It’s them!"

"Who?"

Sharon watched helplessly as Jim slammed on the brakes, climbed out of the rig, and flung his field jacket aside. His uniform shirt came next, buttons flying as he ripped it off, leaving nothing but a tight-fitting tee shirt with the words ‘No Fear’ printed across the back in bold letters.

"Get on the radio, Sharon. Tell Dispatch to send another ambulance. There’s going to be a lot of blood."

"Jim, wait!"

Sharon watched Jim tear through the front gate of the Terrace and disappear between the buildings. "Oh, my God!" Sharon reached for the microphone and keyed up the 2-way. "Medic-seven to dispatch, get some cops to Garden Terrace Apartments fast! I think there’s going to be another murder." Sharon tapped her foot nervously. The radio remained silent. She re-keyed her mike. "Medic-seven."

Silence.

"Carlos! Like, do you copy me or what?"

Sharon didn’t have to wait long for Dispatcher Carlos Mendez to respond. His voice sounded coolly professional, but with a slight edge of distrust.

"Uh, medic-seven, you did say there’s going to be another murder? Correct?"

"Carlos, listen to me! Send cars now! My partner…he’s like…gone berserk!"

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