***
“Get in!” Mark Jackson commanded suddenly as this waking nightmare continued in a shocking new direction. Barbara let out a cry of surprise. The dead man’s eyes were open and his face contorted as if in panic. These were all things that he should have been incapable of doing. Now he was leaning across the seat to his right and throwing open the passenger door.
“Mom!” a voice that sounded a lot like Jerod’s now filled the air.
She looked left through the windshield of the police car just in time to see her son leading Michael through the front door. My God! Barbara thought, but was actually whispering it at the same time. Jerod! Michael!
“Get in!”
It was a virtual chorus of yelling voices. Impossibly, Mark was one of them, suddenly animated and throwing the transmission in reverse, his left foot pinning the brake against the floor while his right prepared to do the same to the accelerator pedal. Michael was another as he followed closely behind their eldest son into the passenger seat. Then there was Nathaniel, carrying the twins under each arm as if they were two footballs and the end zone was in sight. Lastly, there was Vanessa, half running before Nathaniel, half being shoved from behind.
Barbara had prayed and hoped against hope for the tiniest of miracles. It had become increasingly difficult with each passing moment not to lose all hope and heart as doubt had begun to choke everything. Yet, what she received—what all of them had received—was a parting of the Red Sea kind of miracle.
The left side backseat door flung open, followed by another course of yelling. Finding her wits just in the proverbial nick of time, Barbara jumped into the car. It was still unclear to her just how a dead body could be mastering such a feat, but Jackson released the brake and slammed the accelerator pedal into the engine, well before Barbara had gotten completely inside.
Grass and dirt and plant-life sprayed against the front of the house as the car leapt backwards. The adult occupants all struck their heads against the ceiling of the car as it flew over the curb. They bounced about as the car’s brakes engaged, throwing them against the seats as well as into each other. There wasn’t time to be careful, even though small children were in the car. The adult passengers simply shielded them as best as they could under the circumstances. Lastly, four tires screamed and large pieces of the Chinese Maple scraped the asphalt as the friction ground them to nothing as the real getaway car got away.
4:05 a.m.
Tires squealed as the battle-tested police car swung onto Draper Street from Church Street and headed northeast at a high rate of speed. What it had lost in making the turn it quickly gained back and more. It drove in the middle of the street and only took its proper lane as the driver ignored the fast approaching red traffic light and crossed Simpson Street without as much as a passing glance in either direction. The car slowed marginally just before hitting the railroad tracks, launching it several feet and causing it to land hard on the other side. It turned right on California Street and quickly accelerated once again, passing the dilapidated Historic Train Depot, and did not begin to slow until just before turning into the parking lot of the Kingsburg Police Department.
Tires screeched and screamed in protest yet again and the smell of burnt rubber was noticed by all as the police car braked and then skidded to a halt near the main entrance. The driver did not attempt to park anywhere but simply skidded to a halt near the entrance.
“Take the children!” Nathaniel commanded, leaning over and handing one to its mother and the other to its aunt. The twins made no qualms about it, happily receiving a big hug from each woman. “Michael,” he continued as Jackson killed the motor. “Get the women and children into the building. I will assist Mark.”
“I can help my partner!”
“Just do as I say!” Nathaniel snapped. “There is no time! Vincent will find us shortly. This was no escape. This was simply an exchange of blows.” Quickly, everyone filed out of the vehicle as ordered. “Turn out all light inside!” he said, lifting Jackson out of the car and holding him up as they made their way to the double-doors. Jerod held one of them open. Everyone filed in, led by Michael, trailed by Nathaniel and Jackson.
“Detective Lopez,” a frail sounding young voice greeted them as they entered the lobby. There was a large green tiled lobby. Behind her, the telephone was ringing. “Am I glad to see you! The phones have been ringing off the hook! Where is everyone? The Mayor has called five times, looking for the chief! I can’t get a hold of him! No one can!”
“Lainie,” Michael interrupted. “Buzz us in!”
A loud buzz and a heavy metallic click sounded as the door was unlocked for them. Dispatcher Lainie Bishop moved quickly to the door as she took notice of the large man following the group into the building, holding up and half carrying a very much wounded Detective Mark Jackson.
“Oh, my God!” the dispatcher cried, covering her mouth with both hands in shock. His head was hanging limp against his chest. Blood was everywhere. “What happened?” she cried out.
“The lights!” the vampire shouted.
“Lainie, turn out the lights!” Michael ignored her and commanded. When she did not move fast enough, he pointed at the far wall. “Jerod, get those switches off.” Jerod quickly obeyed.
Surely, he had seen and experienced enough in just a few short hours to teach him all that he would ever need to know about circumstances dictating obedience and quick reaction. The artificial lights went out, casting the room in shadows other than the steady glow of red and blinking yellow and green lights along the Dispatching Board.
“Lainie,” Michael addressed the young woman again. “Is anyone else here?”
The young woman seemed frozen in place. From what little Michael knew of her she seemed like a bright individual. If anything, she was a bit young. This morning, it was painfully obvious that she was not equipped to handle sudden and extreme pressure. As the group lined up in the dispatching area, Michael quickly went to her and set his hands upon her shoulders to calm her.
“Lainie,” he began. “I need you to focus for me.” She turned her eyes from the eclectic group surrounding her and gave her full attention. “That’s good. Perfect.” He took a long breath, not only to help her calm down, but for his own well-being. The pain was incredible. He was afraid that were he to think too much about standing, he might actually go down. “Are there any other people in the building?”
“No,” she said. “There were a while ago...”
“That’s okay,” he interrupted. “I don’t care about that.” He switched gears. “I need you to do some things now. First, I need you to go through the entire station and turn out the lights.” The woman’s expression went blank suddenly and it was at that moment that he realized that she was in no shape to do him and the others any good. She was also young, with her entire life ahead of her, and too many had died already; therefore, he changed his mind. “You know what? Never mind. I want you to get your things and go home.”
“What?” Her face went pale.
“Jerod.” He turned from her bewilderment and addressed his son. “Go with your aunt and turn off every switch in the place. You will find small lamps throughout most of the offices. Turn one on in each room first. When you are done, come back here.”
Vanessa stood next to her wounded husband and studied him in the dark. Michael was sure she did not yet realize the full extent of his injuries. She didn’t realize that she was being asked to go with Jerod, either, until the boy had taken her hand.
“’Nessa,” Michael said. “I know you need to be with Mark right now, but I need this done first. Please.” The woman was clearly torn. Michael did not need to see her face to know this, but she reluctantly went.
“I need to sit your friend down,” Nathaniel said.
“Barbara, take everybody to my office. You know where it is.”
“Wait!” Lainie Bishop was finding her voice at last. “What’s
going on here? Why are you sending me away? I can’t leave my post!”
“You can and you will!”
“The mayor needs the chief!” she continued, undaunted. “We’ve got about sixteen uniforms out there, not to mention the crew putting out the fire next door to your house, I believe. Someone’s got to be here!”
“We’re going to be here, damnit!” he snapped. “The chief is dead!”
“What?” Lainie cried, stepping back in shock.
“Many have died, Lainie. Many more might die, but not out there, in here. I’m trying to prevent you from joining that number.” At this, he threw his weight forward and went to her, taking her by the arm. “Now, get your keys and go home. I’ll call you when it is safe to come back.”
Typically, whenever a child is sent to do a job as Jerod had just been instructed to do, an adult must come back through and complete the job correctly. In this instance, however, it was unnecessary. The boy did exactly as he had been instructed.