1. Val #2
Pushing onto her feet, she shoved me backward, then scrambled to steady herself. She ran haphazardly into the alley, and I went after her, leaping over garbage and old patio furniture littering the back lawn. The rain came down steadily, obscuring the light mounted to my gun.
I blinked water away and tried to refocus.
My body surged forward as I searched the darkness for any signs of movement.
The buildings were close together, and it left little room for hiding.
In the distance, I could hear the other officers fanning out in different directions, none calling out for assistance.
I took a hesitant step into a dark alley between two brick buildings. It was a long, empty path with nothing but brick doorways to the end. Moving quickly, I pushed forward between the buildings.
Don’t do it.
The words whispered through my skull a millisecond too late.
As I passed one of the darkened doorways, a figure surged out, slamming me into the opposite wall. My head rapped against the brick, and white-hot pain screeched between my eyes.
I shook my head and raised my gun. “Stop!”
It was not the same man in the hoodie, but the figure kept running. I chased after him.
“I said ‘Stop!’” I yelled again. I was within my rights to shoot, but I knew if I could catch him, I wouldn’t have to.
My adrenaline was coursing through my veins.
My legs burned as I pushed forward toward where the person had taken off.
When I reached the end of the alley, opening into a small courtyard, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.
Off-balance, I struggled and rammed a knee into the ground.
A strong, heavy force slammed on top of me, pinning me to the pavement.
I watched in horror as my gun slid just out of reach.
“You fucking cunt!” the voice growled in my ear. He yanked my ponytail backward as I gritted my teeth.
“Fuck you!” I spat in his direction.
His reaction was to push my face into the concrete. The uneven surface caused water to surge up my nose and burn into my eyes as the gravel bit at my cheekbones.
“Fuck me? How about fuck you, lady cop.” His palm pushed harder and harder into my face and jaw as I struggled to get air around the water filling my mouth and nose.
All the while, I was cataloging.
His voice: noticeable Chicago Italian, scratchy.
His breath: definitely a smoker or tobacco chewer.
His weight: at least two hundred pounds, soft fatty weight, not hard muscle.
Keeping my mind on the suspect and not the fact I was nearly drowning helped focus my thoughts. I coughed and reared my head back just enough to get a gulp of fresh air. The renewed oxygen helped me push and struggle against the knee in my back.
When my knees finally gained purchase, I shoved upward as hard as I could, knocking him unsteady. It was enough to roll and attempt to crawl away. As I turned to face him, a heavy crack radiated across my jaw.
His punch to my face snapped my head back.
I moved toward where I last saw my service pistol.
In the dim lighting, I felt the ground for the cold bite of the metal against my palm.
My fingers curled around the slick, hard barrel as I righted it in my shaking hands.
In the predawn darkness, two figures were locked in a stance, both fighting to overpower the other.
Another, the young woman from the house, was slumped next to me by an overturned patio table.
The sickening thud of punches and grunts filled the air as rain continued to thunder around us and the men continued to fight.
I called for additional backup through the radio on my vest, and I used the brick wall, struggling to push to my feet. As I righted myself, one man reached behind his back, a movement I recognized just as the flash of metal winked from the streetlights. Footsteps thundered behind me.
Officers approaching.
I raised my weapon and pulled the weakening young girl behind me.
Calm.
Ready to defend myself and my fellow officers.
The man raised his arm. I should have shot him. I hesitated. The pop of his gun fired twice. Once to my right and again directly at me.
I didn’t feel the impact of the bullet, as I’d expected. Instead, the suspect in the hoodie had rushed forward, knocking me back against the wall as his body slammed into me. We both tumbled back to the concrete.
My ears rang from the slam of the brick against my head. My limbs were leaden and my tongue felt thick. Colors and noises swirled in front of me as I tried to focus on staying conscious. I blinked away the raindrops as they pattered into my eyes.
Standard-issue boots lay lifeless in my periphery.
An officer down.
I swallowed thickly, trying to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. My head couldn’t make sense of it all, and the overwhelming desire to slip under the heavy blanket of darkness was overwhelming .
Flashes of red and blue shone through the alleyway on the street, muddled and swirled by the puddle water that had seeped into my eyes.
The body that had slammed us both into the wall, unmoving and still half covering me, sheltered me from the cold.
I attempted to shift from under the weight, but he didn’t budge.
I inched my head up, trying to focus on the face in front of me.
Blood covered his clean-shaven face in a mask, and one eye was bruised and angry, completely swollen shut.
The only distinguishable part of him was a single, faded scar connecting his upper lip and nostril.
Focus on him. The sirens. The rain. Do not pass out.
I chanted to myself over and over, but the weight on my chest and the pounding in my brain were too much.
Despair crawled inside me and curled around my heart. I should not have gone down the alleyway without backup. In the cold, dark rain, I sent up a silent prayer that this man who had taken a bullet for me and the officer lying still at my side were not dead because of me.