Arriving at the Scene

The police cruiser came to a halt at the front of the ramshackle, run down house at the end of Wilson Lane. The once quiet cul-de-sac becoming a mixture of noises filling the afternoon air. Car tires were making scratching noises as they rolled over pebbles on the street, doors were slamming as they were being opened by the curious residents of the street watching the police ride in. You could hear knocking as neighbors came out and rustled their friends out of their house without going in, God forbid they should miss any of the action about to happen. The whole culd-de-sac was filled with curious people being shuttled out of the way by the cops as they tried to tie the yard off with bright yellow police lines. All of the residents that were home and out in the street looked in amazement as the squad car stopped and the cop got out.

Jason Riley was, up to that time, a ten year veteran of the police force. Ten long years of rolling up to scenes that he wished he could forget, domestic assaults that had turned tragic, car crashes where the victims would have to be sponged off of the pavement, shootings that left so much blood behind. Today was a first for him however, today he walked into a scene that he wished he only had read about, the images still haunt him to this day.

"Car 36, what is your 20?" Rosie's voice crackled across the CB in his car.

"Just pulled up in front of 2251 Wilson Lane. The whole street is filled with peepers. Inside the house you said?" Jason wanted to make sure that she was correct about the location of where the caller was. He had no desire toe nter the house, it looked as if he might get an infection just by touching the door knob, or the house might collpase if more than wind touched it. He knew that the property would be condemned before he even got out of the car. It had broken windows, peeling paint, weeds that had grown to almost a foot high choked out the front yard. There was a car of unidentifable orgini because of all therust that covered it on the driveway, and the screen door only had one hinge attached to it. The heavy wood front door was left hanging open, no noise was coming from inside. It was the flutter of unease that made Jason pull his revolver before going into the house.

"Is anyone in there?," Jason yelled to the house. He waited in silence for about ten seconds before he used his thumb to push the safety off on his gun. The nickel-plated barrel glinted in the sun as he took two steps towards the open door. He heard a shuffling noise from inside and then stopped, his hand shot out as he thumbed the hammer back in the ready position, his finger rested on the trigger. "Come out with your hands where I can see them," he called to the still empty doorway.

He couldn't tell if it was the unusally warm day so early in the season, or if it was the crowd that was making him this keyed up, but there was definetly something that was making every hair on the back of his neck stand up. His senses seemed to have increased by a hundred, every noise, smell, sight, touch was magnified. He waited, watching the empty doorway, hoping that a figure would materialize so he knew what he should expect inside. Still nothing, the tension was starting to infuriate him.

Suddenly in the doorway he saw a figure that made him almost pull the trigger. He saw a shaggy, disheveled looking young boy standing in the entry. Long, staggly, dirty hair matted with blood hung down to his shoulders. His face looked like he was fighting a battle, trying so ahrd not to cry and laugh hysterically at the same time. In his hands, which were also covered with blood, he was holding a long butcher knife in the left, and a gun in the right. His feet were bare and had blood over the tops of them, his clothes were stained with spots of blood. Jason levelled the gun so this ghastly figure was in the middle of the sight on top of the nickel-palted barrel, "FREEZE! DROP THE WEAPONS NOW! I SAID NOW DAMNIT!!"

The boy seemed to flinch just a little, he had no idea how close to death he was just then, he had no idea where he was. The only thing that he knew was that his family was dead. He had heard yelling and went outside to see what was happening. He did not even know that he had a knife or a gun in his hand. When he got to the door he was confused as to why the policeman was pointing a gun at him. He flinched when the cop yelled at him, he was able to hear two words, Freeze and Damnit. He looked down at his hands then and realized why the cop was holding the gun level at him, he saw the bloody knife and the gun. He dropped them and then fell to his knees crying. He felt hot tears sting his eyes as they welled up and fell down his face. He could see the cop walking towards him with the gun still up, he could not understand a wod that was being said to him however.

Jason saw the boy flinch and felt his finger tighten on the trigger even more, surprisingly it did not set the hammer into motion. He felt something errie and odd in the air, it was almost like he felt a cold hand touch his and stop his fingers from moving. Any other time in his life he would have gone with his gut reaction, which would have been to shoot, but something about the boy and the way he was moving told him not to do that. He felt so much better once he saw the boy fall to his knees, yet he still had to assess the situation. He kept the gun raised but his finger off the trigger, he had eased the hammer down (thakfully he had a double-action revolver), and walked forward keeping the boy in his eyesight the whole time. He recognized the smell of death and blood as he got closer to the house, it was a smell that he was familiar with and one that he will never forget. His suspicion of this boy grew more after he smelled that, his finger tightened once more on the trigger, his eyes never left him. Jason walked up the porch and chanced one glance away from the boy, but left the gun held on him, to look inside the door. He nearly vomited from the smell and saw an image that gave him nightmares for years afterwards.

From his one glance into the living room Jason was able to tell one thing, a massacre had happened here, a killing he knew would be notorious for the rest of time. He had never seen so much blood in one area. He could see swirls and smudges covering the walls in his line of vision, he was not able to discern if it was letters or symbols that he was looking at, he was also able to see feet on the carpet. The smell was so powerful this close to the house he had a hard time believing that this boy was able to stay in there for long, in fact he was ready to believe that he had not been in there for over five minutes. No one could have possibly been in there without a face mask, it was too thick. Jason stopped his glance inside and turned towards the boy, his vision had become a little blurry from his eyes tearing up as he held in his omlette from this morning.

"Son," his voice a little strained as he tried to stop the puke from spewing, "I need you to get up and come with me to the car, right now, please."

The boy turned and looked at Jason, his eyes filled with tears he tried to speak but all he could do was stammer. He blinked a few times, Jason watched those tears of his fall from his eyes as he looked down at his feet. Finally he looked up at Jason, the boy was able to get the word sout this time, "Why? What did I do?"

Jason looked at the boy for a few minutes trying to size him up, was he being serious? Was he yanking his chain? Did he really not know what was in the other room? Jason decided to treat this kid like he was in shock, not a crazed killer. Based on what he saw in his little glance he judged that this frail, shaggy young boy could not have done that. "Son, please, walk with me to the car so I can keep you safe. That's all, you're not in trouble. I just want you to be in my car so I can make sure no one else is here."

In a very calm, quiet, errie voice the boy whispered to Jason, "He is not here anymore. He left right when I got home." He pointed up the street behind Jason and held his finger level, " He went that way, driving a car of fire." At this the boy's eyes rolled up into his head and then he fell to the ground. Jason was not ready for the boy to fal and tried to catch him with the one hand that was not holding a gun, but he missed. He heard the boy's head crack against the wood of the door and saw his body go limp.

"Shit!" Jason sheathed his gun adn grabbed the boy under his knees and his shoulders, dead lifted him off the ground and brought him to the back of his squad car. By this time two other squads had shown up and they were getting out of their cars coming towards Jason. When they saw him putting the boy into the car two of the cops started towards the front door. jason saw this out of the corner of his eye, "Don't go another fucking foot Rodriguez, trust me, you don't want to see. Willimas, get back here with Miller and Wade right now. This boy needs help."

Rodriguez and Willimas, neither of them 30 yet, young and fit, came over to the car and stood next to Miller and Wade. The four of them made a small wall that the peanut gallery could not see around. Miller was the first to say anything, "Is he dead Boss?"

Jason turned and looked at him, "No Miller, he's not. But from what I saw when I looked in that door he might be better off if he was. If he witnessed anything that happened in there he will never be the same. All his innocence is gone from this day on." He looked each ofhis patrols in their eyes before giving his next order.

"No one is to go to that front door. I want the two of you" motioning towards Rodriguez and Wade, "to run the back yard. Miller and Williams patrol the front yard. I am going in to see if anyone else is in there, anyone with a breath anyway. I doubt I will find anyone, if I do they will be running. In that case you are to stop them using any kind of force you deem necessary." He added that last statement as a way of making sure that they were all on their feet.

Miller and Willimas went running to the back yard witht heir guns up, after they passed through the gate they went into two directions hunched over. Rodriguez and Wade pulled thier guns and went two seperate ways to corner off the property. Jason turned towards the other cars that were now approaching and using his hand to signla them, told them to cut the sirens. He looked at the drivers and signaled for them to get out quietly, round up the spectators and get them out of here. All of the training he had hoped he would never have to use was coming out of the deepest recesses of his brain. All of those, at the time, stupid training exercises were now saving his life. He silently thanked Sargent Bobkowski for drilling all of this shit into his head.

He turned back towards the car and looked inside, the boy was breathing and sleeping. Jason rolled the window down enough to let in some air and then closed the door. He turned towards the front of the house, he raised his hand and held up a fist, letting the rest of the cops know not to move. He pulled his gun once more and walked towards the house, once again his gut was getting a strange feeling. He was not aware of it, but he was about to change his life forever once he was inside the nightmare of the Stillman house.