Chapter Six
I barely registered Scott’s voice calling after me, telling me to wait for backup. I probably should have listened to him, but I couldn’t let the suspect get away. Not after he’d shot my partner at close range.
Running at a fast clip down the off ramp, I radioed in my location and followed the perp into an auto body repair shop parking lot.
I was breathing heavily by then, aware of the sound of my rapid footfalls across the pavement, splashing through puddles.
The suspect disappeared around the back of the building. I followed briskly, pausing at the corner to check my weapon and peer out to make sure he wasn’t positioned there, waiting for me.
He had gained some distance and was scrambling up and over a chain-link fence. I immediately resumed my pursuit and climbed the fence to propel myself over.
Inside the repair shop, a dog barked viciously. An outdoor light flicked on, illuminating the rear lot. I was almost over the fence when a door opened and a large German shepherd was released from within. He came bounding toward me, barking and growling.
I dropped to the ground on the other side of the fence.
“Police officer in pursuit of a suspect!” I shouted at the man who followed his dog across the lot.
“He’s heading that way!” the man helpfully replied, pointing, but I didn’t stop to acknowledge his assistance because the suspect was escaping toward a residential area across the street.
“Stop! Police!” I shouted.
To my surprise, just as the shooter reached a low hedge in front of a small bungalow…instead of jumping over it, he halted on the spot and whirled around.
I trained my gun on him. “Drop your weapon!”
He raised both arms out to the side.
“I said drop your weapon!”
I blinked a few times to clear my vision in the blur of the rain. Then…
Crack!
A searing pain shot through my stomach, just below the bottom of my vest. Then another crack! I felt my thigh explode.
Somehow I managed to fire off a few rounds before sinking to the ground. The suspect did the same.
In that instant, two squad cars came skidding around the corner, sirens wailing and lights flashing.
Slowly, wearily, finding it difficult to breathe, I lay down on my back in the middle of the street and removed my hat as I stared up at the gray night sky. A cold, hard rain washed over my face. I began to shiver.
Vaguely, I was aware of the other two units pulling to a halt nearby. I turned my head to watch two officers in raincoats approach the suspect, who was face down in the ditch in front of the hedge.
Then rapid footsteps, growing closer…
“Josh, are you okay?”
I looked up at Gary, a rookie who had offered me a stick of gum in the break room before I’d headed out that night. I nodded my head, but felt woozy. “I think I’m hit.”
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing uneasily at my abdomen. “Help’s on the way. Hang in there, buddy. You’re going to be fine.”
Feeling chilled to the bone, I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
By now Gary was applying pressure to my stomach, which hurt like hell. He shouted over his shoulder, “Need some help over here!”
I clenched my jaw against the burning agony in my guts and leg, and heard more sirens.
“Will they be here soon?” I asked with a sickening mixture of panic and dread.
“Yeah,” Gary replied. “Any second now. Just hang on.”
“It’s cold,” I whispered. “I should have worn the raincoat.”
More footsteps. I felt no pain, only relief but was drifting off. It was hard to focus.
Another cop knelt down beside me.
I labored to focus on his face.
“MacIntosh,” I said. “Can you call Carla for me? Tell her I’m sorry about this morning. Tell her I love her. I didn’t mean what I said. I should have walked her to the door.”
“You can tell her yourself,” MacIntosh replied.
His patronizing response roused a wave of anger in me.
“No.” I grabbed his wrist and spoke through clenched teeth. “I need you to promise me… Promise me you’ll tell her, or I swear I’ll knock your head off.”
“All right, all right,” he replied. “I’ll tell her.”
That was the last thing I remembered from that day.
What happened next was strange and incredible. From that moment on, my life became divided into two halves—everything that happened before the shooting, and everything that happened after.