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Snierdf

New Novel and Screenplay portrays extremities of a vigilante

NEW YORK, N.Y. – From the author of “Exchanging Pleasantries”, “Remembering Olsen” and “Anxiety Stricken” comes “Snierdf”.

In the fictional town of Melda Maryland where the streets are anything but safe and calm, 42 year old, Officer Justin Haygen learns of his twist in fate, a battle with a terminal illness that only one other human has suffered in history.

Justin returns to his precinct to spend final days with old friends and partners when the news of a serial vigilante playing judge and jury breaks out and spreads wildly through the small town.

Murders of a sex offender, rapist, gangster and a group of terrorists become the sites of strange clues all pointing the finger at what was not thought possible.

Buckle in, hold on tight and be prepared for an absorbing, compelling, more graphic and disturbing storyline than this author has ever brought you before.

ferf ziamond is a pen name representing a colorless, ageless, genderless storyteller who introduces a different concept to readers, movie style writing with screenplay edition included. All ziamond’s pieces are available through AuthorHouse.

AuthorHouse is the premier publishing house for emerging authors and new voices in literature. For more information, please visit www.authorhouse.com.

Snierdf

Screenplay format

included

ferf ziamond

for

all underpaid law enforcement and vigilantes in the right mind

thank you for the support Richard Fleri

Brueur Unleashed for a brighter prospective

REGULATORS

GO METS

INTRO

An angry mob protests in front of the Melda Maryland courthouse just as the sun has set. Empty are the rows of cement steps leading up to pillars that stand on either side of the main entrance to the white marble structure.

Chants blaring, fists rising. The terms sex offender and child molester common throughout the angered crowd. A man and woman embrace consoling one another off in the darkness of the upsetting scene.

A frustrated police officer turns from guarding the door as it opens. A small pig of a man stands inside the courthouse beside his dark suited attorney. The man’s eyes filled with fear.

The officer would embrace the chance of feeding the man to the hungry wolves that vocalize beneath, though that would conflict with his orders. “Looks like you’ll be spending another night dirt bag.”

The attorney cuts through the officer with a deep stare while keeping his comments to himself.

The outside clatter comes through piercingly.

CHAPTER ONE

Justin Haygen, late thirties, average height police officer seated on an examining table glancing around the cluttered doctor’s office while fiddling with medical equipment within reach. A playful smile perks up an otherwise dismal face.

The doctor enters, forties, dark, serious, a gloomy appearance. “Justin, how long has it been since you’ve been in to see me?”

“Four years I guess.”

“Try eight.”

“Really? Maybe I should change my schedule around.”

“Justin, I have something to tell you that is not going to be easy.”

The playful smile dissolves with intense fear.

“Have you ever heard of Kemper Halloway?”

“No.”

“Kemper Halloway was a man with a very rare illness. It is sometimes referred to as Kemper Halloway’s disease. Kind of like the Lou Gehrig thing.”

“I have Lou Gehrig’s disease?”

“No, you have Kemper Halloway’s disease.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“It’s not good. I can explain what you should expect or I can let you read some literature I have on it. I’ll answer your questions when you’re ready.” The Doc attempts to coax Justin into reading about it to spare himself the grief.

“I’m not a reader.” A tear forms in Justin’s eye.

“It is an extremely rare form of cancer.”

Justin’s world is crushed in an instant.

“You are a year into it. That is where these severe pains are coming from.”

Justin holds back, takes a deep breath.

“I can stop if you’d like.”

He shakes his head. As difficult as it is to continue hearing, he must.

“It is not going to be tolerable pain. I can provide pain killers that will only supply moderate assistance. You will of course have to leave the job.”

Justin stares aimlessly. He grips the wax paper on the table as he forces himself to his feet. “I’ll take the paper work.”

“I’m sorry Justin.”

“It’s my own fault. I waited eight years. Can I get those pain killers?” He disguises his concern.

“I have several prescriptions for you. One will give you a little more time but with the increase of pain, you may want less time.”

“How much time we talking about anyway?”

“Without the medicine, that gives you what I calculated to seventy-one days. About twenty, twenty one till the real pain takes over.”

Justin grips the slip of paper tightly bending the edges.

CHAPTER TWO

 In a dim, dreary room with grey walls and blue lockers, three police officers finish putting on uniforms.  
 Two are from the courthouse where they unwillingly protected the sex offender from the crowd. One of them, Charlie, a bit less manly, somewhat frail, ties his shoe up on the bench.
 “Charlie stop leaning over like that, you’re driving me wild.” Kip, a burley prankster puts on a high voice.
 “Screw off.”
 “Yea you couldn’t handle all of that man.” Berg, a serious faced, thinner young man lets out a laugh. “The more serious you take Kip’s insults, the more he’s gonna do it.” 
 “Yea yea.”
 The Captain, forties, stern appearance, stops to notice the men. “You clowns watch each others backs out there today.” 
 “Yes Cap.”
 He starts and takes a second glance. “Where’s Haygen? Late again?”
 “No Cap, I think he’s in the can.”
 Cap continues to his office.
 “Good cover Charlie.”
 “I’ll always have Justin’s back.”
 “How many times have you had it already?”
 “Take a walk Kip.”
 Justin sneaks in by the lockers. “Hey! You guys take it easy out there today.” 
 “Speak of the devil. What’s up Haygen?”
 “How is babysitting that piece of garbage kid toucher going?”
 “The crowd was so irate he had to spend another night. We’re going to try again tonight.”
 “Really?”
 “Where’s the uniform?”
 “Sorry fellas. I just stopped by to give you the news.”
 “What news?”
 “Mandatory vacation from the Doc.”
 “You okay?”
 “Yea fine.”
 “Why the vacation?”
 “Just coming down with something and the stress of carrying a gun ain’t helping it.”
 “You’re kidding.”
 “Wish I was.”
 “Who am I gonna partner with?”
 “Get Gina off of desk.”
 “C’mon, Gina’s a girl.”
 “You afraid of girls?”
 “Just the ones I want to sleep with.”
 “You’re not supposed to sleep with your partner Berg.”
 “That’s only because I’ve had such an ugly one for the last nine years.”
 Kip motions toward Charlie. “Make sure he knows that.”
 “Enjoy your tour guys. I’ll be in with Cap.”
 “Take care of yourself Haygen.”
 “Yea.”
 “We will always have your back.” 
 “Look no further for a true brother.” 
 “Thanks.” Justin cringes and squeezes his eyes while walking away. He stands before Cap’s door hesitant. 
 He knocks and enters.
 “How was the can Haygen?”
 Justin has no clue.
 “What’s wrong? You look like crap.”
 “Hit a man when he’s down.”
 “Down from what?”
 “You have to call the Doc. I gave him permission to fill you in. Please keep it confidential. The guys know I’m on a mandatory vacation and for Berg’s sake put Gina in my place.”
 Cap is confused. “I was going to have you and Berg look into the rapes in the park.”
 “What rapes?”
 “Some maniac out there has been raping women and leaving them unconscious on the park swings.”
 “That’s sick.” 
 “Tell me about it.”
 “Gina will enjoy that.”
  “She’s berserk over it already. So what’s with you?”
 “I can’t talk about it with you Cap. It’s bad news. Do me a favor and see that Berg gets this when the time is right.” Justin drops his badge on Cap’s desk. “He always joked that he should carry both of our badges.” 
 Justin exits Cap’s office and passes a pretty young Gina at her desk. Her dark hair and hour glass figure light up the dull office.
 “Morning Haygen.”
 “Hey Gina. Get prepared for the street sweetheart.” He pulls out his cell phone and dials as he gets out to the sidewalk. “At least this will give mom a happy day. Hey mom! How are things out there in Jersey?”
 His mom, Rose, an outgoing breath of fresh air sits at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee. “Justin? Shouldn’t you be at work? What’s going on?”
 “Did you forget ma? Didn’t I tell you I was taking a vacation?”
 “Maybe you did. I can’t remember anything anymore.”
 “I just wanted to see if someone was interested in Chinese for lunch.”
 “Really? It’s not even Thursday. Or is it?”
 “No, you’re right. It’s Monday. I’m gonna try to make it more than once a week from now on ma.”
 “That is great. I have to tell your father.” Justin’s dad, Matt, a solemn, quite older man sits across reading the newspaper. “Justin is going to have Chinese with me on a Monday honey. Isn’t that nice?”
 “Okay.”
 “You’re father is thrilled.” 
 Matt licks his index finger and slowly turns a page. “Tell him to take the trash out before he leaves.” 
 The room is cozy and quiet aside from Rose’s jubilant voice. A shelf in front of a frosted window is neatly decorated with flowers, ornaments and a photo of Justin in uniform.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER THREE

 Justin walks into the Chinese restaurant. Small, quaint, a few tables along the side. He rubs his shoulder then his temples, pops a pill. The man behind the counter is surprised. “Jus-in on Mon-ay?” A short, older, Asian man gives a friendly smile.
 “Surprise Chin. Mom and me are gonna spend more time with you now. Let me have the Singapore Mei Fun, white meat chicken only, no pork, no shrimp, no mushrooms please.” He pulls out his cell phone.
 “Singapore Mei Fun? The curry. You break out.”
 “I don’t care if I break out anymore Chin.” Justin dials.
 “Say herro to mother.”
 “I will.” He takes a seat in the back behind a paper wall. “Hey ma. You there?”
 His mother sits at a similar Chinese restaurant in New Jersey. She smiles ear to ear. “Hi baby boy. I am waiting for my Chow Mein.” She gently places her purse on the seat beside her. 
 “Guess what I ordered.” 
 “Garlic noodles?”
 “Singapore Mei Fun.”
 “Singapore Mei Fun? The curry. You’ll break out.”

“I don’t care if I break out anymore ma. By the way, Chin says herro.”

 “That’s sweet. Tell him herro for me.”
 “Tell him yourself. My food is here.” He puts her on speaker and rubs the back of his neck. 
 “Herro Chin.”
 “Oh herro Miss Hey-gon.” Chin places a tray on the table.
 “Make sure my baby boy eats all of his vegetables.”
 Chin laughs uncontrollably while repeating Rose’s request on his way back into the kitchen.
 Justin smiles while shaking his head.
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER FOUR

  Cap holds the phone to his ear with his mouth wide open. The Doc’s voice can be heard through the receiver. “Cap? Cap are you there? I know it is shocking news but.”
 Cap shakes his head and contains himself. “Sorry Doc. Just too much to take all at once. The poor guy didn’t even live the full life he should have.” Cap holds the window shade open revealing a beautiful blue sky. “And imagine his main concern is getting the right person to take his place as Berg’s partner.” He glances out into the distance.
 The sun shines through trees above Berg who chews on a hot dog while walking in the park with Gina. They pass a wall with unattractive spray paint marks. She holds her head. “I don’t know if I can handle this. Rape has got to be the worst crime of them all.”
 “Personally I hate graffiti.”
 “How could you compare the two?”
 “I’m not comparing. I just think destroying the area you live in is the most mindless thing that someone can do.”
 “Rape is disgusting. They should cut it off after we catch him.”
 “They should cut off the whole hand for graffiti pollutionists.”
 “You’re a lunatic.”
 “But my town is clean.”
 They approach the swings with the playground area taped off. A detective shows them pictures of the latest victim bruised and asleep on a swing. Gina covers her mouth and turns around.
 “She’s a desk cop.” Berg explains her frailty.
 “I see.”
 “So what time did you get the call on this?”
 “About eleven AM. A mother and son were about to swing when the kid asked his mother if God made homeless women.”
 “Touching.”
 They continue to talk from the view of a rooftop a block away. A man dressed in black watches through binoculars while laughing. “Look at these bright cops. I should get her next.” He lowers the binoculars while letting out an evil chuckle.
 
 
 
  

CHAPTER FIVE

 Justin opens a fortune cookie after pushing his empty plate aside. He rubs his head and squints. A tear rolls down his cheek. “You know I’ve questioned Charlie’s sexuality for year’s ma. I know the other guys have for a while now too. Especially Kip. He’s his partner for God’s sake.”
 “Isn’t there something you can do honey? Maybe the truth will set him free.”
 “The truth will set him up for torture ma. These guys aren’t your politically correct unit from perfectville.” He squeezes his elbow and makes a face. “What does yours say ma?”
 “My dreams are golden, they will be made real. You?” 
 “Keep the ones around you extra close and smile.”
 “They’re always sweet and happy.”
 “You’ll never get bad news in a fortune cookie.”
 “Ain’t that the truth.”
 “We’ll do it again Thursday ma?”
 “Okay baby boy. Take care of yourself.”
 “I will.” He disconnects and rubs his lower back. “I should have taken care of myself eight years ago.” He drops some money on the table and heads out waving goodbye to Chin and the cooks.
 One block down the road is what he refers to as his temporary sanctuary, Jarway’s Record’s. It is one of the last of its kind, a run down record store that still has vinyl. 
 Justin enjoys strolling down the aisles once a week making small talk with Mr. Jarway the owner while showing off his knowledge of dead rock and roll hero’s.

A young, clean cut teenager approaches. “Hey Mr. Haygen. Got that Jim Croce album you were asking about.”

“Hello Nick. Nice to see you. Where’s old Jarway?”

“He went out on a run. I’m in charge.”

“Where’s the Croce?”

“Can you tell me when he left us?”

“Jim Croce, 1973. Another hero of mine.”

“Are there any you don’t know?”

“Test me.”

“Okay, Ozzy Osbourne’s guitarist, after Sabbath.”

“Randy Rhoads, 1982. Can I use Felix’ computer?”

“Sure thing. One day that will be my computer.”

“Thanks kid.” Justin messes Nick’s hair and makes himself comfortable behind the counter.

“You still have your heart set on running this place?”

“You bet. Once Mr. Jarway has enough to retire and makes it to that beach house, I’ll be walking these aisles teaching kids about the old rock and roll. The good music.”

“That would be something.” Justin brings up a blank screen on the computer. His grin is one of satisfaction.

CHAPTER SIX

 The same couple consoles near the courthouse once again. Mrs. De’meal cries in the arms of her husband. “Two years? This son of a bitch gets two years and they’re letting him out?”
 “What comes around goes around honey. He’ll get his. I will make sure he burns in some kind of hell.” Mr. De’meal tries to hold back his frustration while attempting to sooth his wife. Their nine year old daughter Mandee was the victim of the sex offender who is being released early from prison.
 “I can’t stay around here anymore. Let’s go home.” 
 Mr. De’meal helps her into the car in front of the courthouse. “You’re right honey. If I see this animal come out of those doors, I’ll end up doing more time than he did. He’ll get his.” They pull away. There are only a handful of people remaining. Darkness falls.
 Kip and Charlie are on either side of the criminal. They walk him out with his lawyer. Both of their faces are sickened.
 The few remaining protesters curse and threaten the man as they walk down the steps toward the lawyer’s car. A shot is fired. No one knows exactly where it comes from. The man between Kip and Charlie has a large gaping hole in the middle of his forehead oozing blood. Kip is shaken but he shows a smile. Charlie turns away to throw up. The protesters begin to cheer. It all happens in a blink of an eye.
 None of the officers show interest in solving the murder. They all appear to be in favor of it. The sex offender lies lifeless on the steps after a few convulsions. Shortly after a brief silence, his head and body are pelted with rocks and sticks.
 The lawyer drops to compose himself taking a seat on the steps above where the blood spills. Strobe lights flash off of the courthouse as the crowd grows and additional officers make their presence known.
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 Justin walks in the front door to his small, unkempt house. He holds his ear, looks at his fourteen year old daughter Alissa asleep on the couch and whispers. “At least you’ll be happy. You and that so called mother of yours.”
 He gets a beer from the refrigerator and looks in at his wife Renee then continues to the basement. He turns on the TV and sits crying for a moment before Renee barges in. A short woman wearing a sleazy nightgown, her curly brown hair messed from the bed. “Have a good time out? Why’d you bother coming home? Go ahead, drink your beer. You waste of life.” She slams the door.
 Alissa wakes from the couch. “What’s going on ma?”
 “That useless bum decided to come home.”
 “Why don’t you just get someone to get rid of him?”
 “We need his money. Go to your room.”
Justin shakes his head. “All I did for her growing up. All I did for both of them. This is how you treat me?” He looks up to the ceiling to God. His message is blocked by rumblings of Renee and Alissa’s muffled voices cursing his name.
 Justin and Renee’s relationship fell apart years earlier when Renee allowed Alissa to become the trash that she became. Out late with crack heads, whores, graffiti pollutionists, thieves and bums became her thing.
 Justin gave his all to keep her away from the wrong side of the tracks but Renee felt it was all part of growing up.
 He reads the medicine bottle and chugs down some pills with his beer. “She was my little sweet heart.” He pulls out a picture from the wall unit of him and a cute four year old Alissa. 

He recalls a trip to the beach when Alissa was four years old. She runs to Justin along the sand with a big smile and a shovel and pail. Justin stands with his arms open.

“Daddy!”

He comes back from his memory just before their embrace. “What happened to you?” He rubs his temples. “You became the bitch known as your mother.” He takes a sheet of paper and a pen from under the couch that appear to be there for him during times to express his feelings. He writes for a moment before dropping the pen and picture. He rests his head and closes his eyes.

 Clouds appear. Justin is startled yet comfortable. He approaches large, beautiful, golden gates standing firmly in the clouds. A man resembling Chin from the Chinese restaurant stands as if guarding the gates. His English has improved. “Good evening sir. Do you have your invitation?”
 “Invitation? For what?”
 “Not just anyone can enter here.”
 “Wait a second.”
 “Yes it is.”
 “Then you’re St. Peter?”
 “Pete? Huh. That’s rich. I’m Ozasin, Pete hasn’t worked the gate in centuries. C’mon kid, things change over long periods of time.”
 “You look like a friend of mine.”
 “Who? Chin?”
 “Yes.”
 “Chin’s a good man. He has an invitation.”
 “How do I get one?”
 “You’re doing well. But there are things we must discuss like your wife and daughter.”
 “That wife is not the girl I married.” An outline of two figures off in the distance appears. “Who are they?” 
 “Not now! We will re-write the Bible at another time.”
 After a flash of light Justin rolls off of the couch before his two beauties wake upstairs. 
 After a quick, painful shower, he makes his way out of the house and down to Tops eht, a quiet getaway spot off of the main highway that he refers to as Tops eht because to him it tops it all. 
 The weeds resemble corn storks growing higher than the pick-up truck. He enters from a long dirt road after passing a calm blue duck pond. It is a place to simply contemplate the few steps remaining in his life.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 
 
 A group of high level law enforcement officials sit around a table in a conference room. After a moment of silence, Carter Strie, a tall, muscular, strict and serious African American gentleman looks to either side with a somber frown. “Even if we aren’t the Department of Homeland Security, the threat of a sleeper cell amidst our jurisdiction is our business.”
 “Sir, you heard what our people said.” A woman in a business suit, Drea Cormel, has feelings of disappointment.
 “That story is getting old. We must take these bastards out with or without flawless evidence.”
 Short Henry, a comical little man adds his feelings on the subject. “I agree but they will come down on us hard if they find out we took matters into our own hands.”
 “Yea, yea, yea. They don’t want blood unless it’s our own.”
 Short Henry lets out an agreeing chuckle. “We should call in the one shot vigilante.”
 “That leads us to our other order of business. Although I have no qualms about what happened to that sick child molester, I am already catching heat to find this guy. Again he is a murderer and the pig he killed was a human being.”
 “Human being my ass.”
 “You’re all aware of the clue he left behind.” Carter holds up a long rectangular sheet of paper with letters typed on it KACBROUYEAVHSAWYLALILWEW.
 “Yep, and we’re all glad it makes so much sense.”
 “It’s every third letter.”
 “We’ve been through that.”
 “No every third letter is a vowel.”
 “It’s some sort of a jumble.”
 “Obviously it is an acronym of some sort.”
 “Or a jumbled acronym.”
 “Well one of you guy’s figure out what he’s saying in the jumbled acronym so we can get the investigation over with.”
 “What makes you automatically think that it was a he that took him out?” Drea smirks.
 Short Henry gests. “Because it only took one shot.”
 “Funny shortie.”
 “As much as I hate to say it, we have to put a collar on this guy. Excuse me, guy or gal.”
 “Thanks sir.”
 “As for this sleeper cell, I want someone close.” Carter slowly puts his hands together.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
CHAPTER NINE
 
 
 Three young Arab men dressed in American clothing in a dingy, small, dark one room basement office. A laptop computer on top of a desk, Rezmar sits behind it. He speaks with a foreign accent to the others who stand, Beilgan and Shatza. “The SST. Imagine the Concord into building. The jets we used were enough but imagine for moment the Concord.”
 “They are not made anymore.”
 “That’s why I say imagine.”
 Beilgan smokes a cigarette and blows the smoke upward while laughing to himself. “You have big ideas. Concord would have been bigger success.” 
 Shatza spreads a map out on the desk. “Wild fires here, here and here. That beginning. By the time we get here, here and here, the first ones are beyond control. With summer heat approaching in a few months and lack of water in these parts we will have half the nation burning in two week time. Then we begin next country.”
 “I like Shatza. I like very much. How many we have?”
 “We have twenty two cells, hundred and eighteen soldiers ready to kill in America.”
 “You can get them on this?”
 “Once you give me final word.”
 “I like but we have to make the plan to get soldiers in place and all begin at same time. This must be as perfect as our first masterpiece.”
 “I can have perfect map and plans on your lap top in five weeks the most.”
 “Terror-iffic!”
 They all laugh.
 “Now we can do plan for today.”
 “Rezmar?”
 “American hookers.”
 They all nod with a continuous laugh.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER TEN

 Justin’s face is broken out like Chicken Pox from the Singapore Mei Fun as he stands in front of Jarway’s.
 A very sexy and aggressive brunette stops in front of him. “Where’ve you been Justin? I’ve missed you.”
 “Hi Ursula. I’ve been here and there.”
 “Whatta ya got the hives?”
 “Nah, that’s from Chinese food.”
 She places her hand on his chest. Her long red finger nails fiddle with his collar. “It’s still not too late to get things going. That is if you and your wife are still on the outs.”
 He holds onto her hand which was about to caress his neck. “We’ll always be on the outs but it’s just not in me to cheat.” 
 Her hand slides to her side. “You’re too good for any one woman. The offer always stands. A free one whenever you need it.” She struts down the sidewalk as Justin admires the view before entering Jarway’s.
 An older African American man smiles from behind the counter. The bells ring as Justin strolls in to greet the man. “Jarway.”
 “Son of a bitch! Nick told me you was by yesterday and now what you doin here on a Tuesday Haygen?”
 “I missed you.”
 “That’s bull.”
 “Just makin sure things are okay.”
 “Where’s your uniform knuckle head?”
 “At the cleaners.”
 “What’s wrong? You look like shit.”
 “I feel worse.”
 Jarway walks around the counter concerned. “What’s up boy?”
 “It’s nothing. Just under the weather.”
 “It’s not time for me to repay you is it?”
 “No. I ain’t gonna die.”
 “Good thing. I’m too tired to go saving your life.”
 Justin saved Jarway’s life a few years earlier while responding to a burglary at his store. Jarway held at knifepoint next to the register. The cash is emptied. The masked crook fills his pouch.
 Justin quietly enters from the back door, his gun drawn.
 The thief stands in front of the counter before leaving. “Not a word to anyone spook.”
 Justin takes aim, one bullet behind each knee. The man falls to the ground screeching in pain.
 Berg enters through the front door, grabs the knife from the ground.
 Justin looks at Jarway. “You okay?”
 Jarway nods. His is completely shaken.
 The criminal moans on the floor.
 Justin smirks. “Let’s go Berg.”
 “Aren’t you gonna call an ambulance?”
 “Ambulance’s are for decent citizens. Let this piece of shit walk to the hospital.”
 Jarway and Justin have been close friends ever since the incident.
 Jarway is curious as to Justin’s recent visit. “What brings you around anyhow?”
 “I just wanted to catch up where I left off last time I was here. Where were we?”

“You left off at Keith Moon.”

“Right, that is an easy one, The Who. Moon left us in 1978.”

“You’re sure good with the deaths. Why not focus on the lives?”

Justin thumbs through some records and pulls one out. “Here we go. A hero of mine that left us one year before Moon. When I go, make sure Simple man is blaring at my funeral. Ronnie Van Zandt, Skynard 1977.”

“It’s your wife’s job to make those arrangements.”

“You know damn well how I feel about her and she about me. I don’t even want her at my funeral.”

“Okay, Simple man, Skynard. Consider it done.”

Justin stares at the album as Jarway approaches with concern. “You sure you okay?” His hand rests on Justin’s shoulder.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
CHAPTER ELEVEN
 
 
 Gina enraptures herself in the most seductive strands of clothing the precinct undercover collection has to offer. Kip swings a pointed cup bra around his index finger while glancing in the box. “Try this on.”
 She gives him a push while laughing. Her 9 millimeter is visible under her thigh strap. “I’m nervous enough about this job, stop making it worse.”
 Berg nervously pushes Kip to the side. “You’ll be fine. I’ll have your back the whole time.”
 “I bet you will.” Kip walks off after looks from both of them.
 “Are you sure? Not only am I a stranger to being away from my desk, but now undercover trying to seduce a rapist?”
 “He’ll melt in your hands.”
 “Berg.”
 “What? I’m serious. You’re a knock out in this get up.” Their eyes meet for a significant moment.
 “You better be there for me.”
 “Always.”
 Gina walks toward the door. Berg stares in awe. “I hope I can concentrate on my job.”
 Above the park, the rapist makes himself comfortable on the roof down the road. The park is calm and peaceful, the trees still. His deep breaths are unsettling as he spits peanut shells on the roofs surface. 
 From his position, Gina can be seen strutting along toward a bench. The rapist perks up. “Well well, a show.”
 Gina stretches nervously and peers in each direction after taking a seat on the faded wooden bench.
 The rapist gets a better view with his binoculars. He chews noisily and chuckles. “Legs. Nice.” 
 Gina crosses her legs, looks over her shoulder and places her purse on the bench.
 “Rack. Nice.” He continues his noisy chewing and breathing while becoming concerned. “What do we have here?” He scans the area. A reflection off a car bumper yards away. In the driver seat sits Berg crouched down, also with binoculars.  
 Gina slowly stands. Berg lifts himself up while watching her and whispering. “No Gina. Stay. We can’t give up yet.”
 She walks toward the swings. “This is crazy.” A nervous pace. “I can’t sit still. It’s getting cold.” She looks to trees behind the park. Behind the trees a lightless house. The wind howls by the windows.
 Berg opens his door slowly. The dashboard rings to warn of the keys in the ignition. He quickly pulls them out, rests them on the seat while crouching down to get a better view of Gina.
 He loses sight of her and crawls around a tree. Her legs are visible as she moves quickly back to the bench. She stands in front of it. Berg cocks his gun.
 The rapist from the roof takes it all in, laughs and places the binoculars down. “Nice try dopes. You think I’m that stupid?” He slowly turns from his spot as a bullet is put in his forehead. Blood oozes as he drops. A shadow moves across the wall on top of the building. The lifeless body lies surrounded by puddles and peanut shells.
 Gina continues toward Berg. He is confused. 
 “I had a weird feeling. Can we try again later or better yet, tomorrow?” She enters the car through the passenger side.
 Berg turns the key in silent disappointment.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 Kip walks along with Charlie through the same park early the next morning. “Dude, you have to stop acting like such a lady.”
 “Lay off.”
 “I’m serious. People are talking.”
 “You think I care?”
 “Yea, I do.”
 “Well I don’t.”
 “You can’t be ser-”
 Charlie interrupts nervously. “What the hell is that?”
 “What is what?”
 “That!” He points to the swing where a large figure sways slowly back and forth.
 “I don’t know.” Kip raises his radio to his lips. “Stay close sixteen.” They approach the swing. 
 Charlie slows down to a halt. Kip pulls lightly on the coat revealing the rapist dead on the swing. “Oh man.”
 Charlie covers his mouth and looks away. 
 “See? This is exactly the chicken shit attitude I’m talking about. Just like when that kid toucher took one in the skull just like.” He pauses and looks at the victim’s forehead. “Just like this piece of shit.” 
 “You think they were related?”
 “The victims? Yea, they were second cousins.”
 “Not blood related.”
 “There is a blood relation. Both of them spilled from the eyebrows dripping down on the lips.”
 “You’re a sick bastard.”
 “You’re a woman.”
 “You need help.”
 “You need a date.” Kip raises his radio. “With a female.” He pushes down on the button. “We’re going to need forensics here at the park. We got an interesting yet fun situation.” 
 He notices the same type of note as the last victim had pinned to the new victim’s coat, ROTHERBERUTAROFRTHUREFONKOOL. “Look, another jumble.”
 Charlie, as sickened as can be, wipes his mouth and draws up enough courage to glance over.
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 Justin stands in the clouds. Ozasin checks the invitation of a woman and waves her in. The woman is thrilled.
 “You let her in.”
 “Yes I did.”
 “What brought her here?” 
 “I like you Justin.” Ozasin stares and smiles.
 “Should I worry?”
 “Her words were just like music to my ears.”
 “Music? Now you’re speaking my language.”
 “You do have quite a heavenly taste in music but why so much focus on the deaths? Why not focus on the lives?”
 “Now you sound like a friend of mine.”
 “I am a friend of yours.”
 “I meant another friend.”
 “Jarway?”
 “You’re two for two.”
 The two figures appear quickly and fade.
 “Two.” Justin hears a loud voice. “Two!”
 He is startled from the couch. He attempts to raise himself up. The pain is unbearable. He forces two pills down and squints to hold back tears while standing. “I should get my hands on some lethal injection and make all of this go away.” Regaining strength he makes his way toward the bathroom. He declines the idea of taking a shower. The pain will not permit it.
 Renee walks from her bedroom into the hall noticing Justin, she ducks back in.
 He is not as cowardly. “It’s only the schmuck that supports his ingrates.”
 Red-faced and obviously angered, she mumbles from inside the bedroom. “Asshole.”
 Justin grabs his work bag and acts as if he is going to the precinct once again. 
 He stops at his beat up pick up truck and throws the bag in the back. His face indicates extreme pain to that whole side of his body.
 In the house Renee picks up the phone after a ring. It is Justin’s doctor. “No, he left for work. Who is this?”
 “This is Dr. Kahnn. Are you sure he went to work? He is not supposed to be there.”
 “Why n- I mean, why of course not. I’m just so used to him going to work around this time of day. What is the latest on his situation?” She pretends to have been informed.
 “Very bad. I wanted to see if I could change our two o’clock to one fifteen.”
 “You have his cell number?”
 “Yes ma’am. I’ll try that.”
 “So when do you think he can go back to work?”
 “Mrs. Haygen, he can’t return to work.”
 “I see.” Renee is puzzled.
 Justin walks to the door of Jarway’s as his phone buzzes. “Hey doc. More good news?”
 “Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to change our two to a one fifteen if that’s okay with you.”
 “Does my bell toll forty-five minutes earlier than expected?”
 “Is it an inconvenience?”
 “I’ll see you at one fifteen.” He closes the phone and walks in the store.
 “Now on a Wednesday? What do I owe the inconvenience to?” Jarway gives him a hug.
 “What would you say if I really was sick?”
 “If you really was sick or if you was really sick?”
 “Either or.”
 “It can’t be either or. Either you really sick or you just sick?”
 “I’m sick. I have some pains and a cough. How about that?”
 “Then I tell you to get your sick ass some Robitussin and a massage and come see me and my records when the shits gone away.”
 “I’ll do that.”
 “What’s wrong boy?”
 “Just something I should have gotten checked out earlier.”
 “How much earlier? What you got boy?”
 “It’s not that serious.” He pulls out a record. “Not as serious as this poor bastard anyway. Elvis Friggen Presley, 1977.”
 “Or this boy who took one like that one in the park and that sex offender the other night.” Jarway holds up a record.
 “Damn, one of my other hero’s, John Lennon, 1980.”
 “Imagine?”
 “You’re funny.”
 “What you guys doing about this shooter anyway? I think you’s should get him a job cleaning up the trash like he’s doing.”
 “I agree with you but it’s not up to us. It’s up to all of those invalid’s who think those dysfunctional messes belong in society.” He grabs another record after thumbing through. “A doll, Karen Carpenter of The Carpenter’s, 1983. Wow, this picture looks familiar.”
 “It should, you’ve been looking at her picture on these pearly record albums for years.”
 “I know but.” Justin focuses on the album cover while in thought for a moment. “That’s it! The Pearly Gates. Ozasin let her in last night.”
 “Now you scaring me boy.” 
 “Just a dream.” Justin stares upward as if in a trance.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 The group of high level law enforcement officials sit around the table in the conference room once again. Carter Strie is impatient. “See why I take this shit so serious? See why we have to be one step ahead of these animals? If we would have gone in and shot the cell up the state wouldn’t be in an uproar over the rumors of threat!”
 “Sir, it would have been impossible to take out a cell. A cell? I don’t even know why I’m calling it that. An office full of illegal aliens. Sometimes a group of a single ethnicity is not a gang of killers.” Drea defends the sleeper cell occupants.
 George Nayal stares at her in disappointment. “How could? Oh never mind!” He stops himself and walks out of the room.
 Carter is not pleased. “George! Get the hell back in here!” The door shuts as George continues out. “I’m not finished with him. And you, Drea? I’m shocked that you can be so off base when your country is threatened.”
 “Yes. I thought like you after the first few attacks. I began hating this country because of all of the insane fools criticizing us for wanting to do something about the murderers around the world. I wanted everyone with a turban or a Mid East accent to be shot on sight. I found that our leaders were not protecting us the way they should have. I learned that it is possible that they knew of the attacks before they happened. I’ve been given many options to consider if we are the peaceful nation or if we are following a poor mindset. I just don’t know sometimes.” Drea shakes her head.
 “Well said but it doesn’t change the fact that this cell has something inside it that we want.”
 Short Henry smirks. “I’m telling you sir, the one shot vigilante. We catch him, we hire him for one job and then he gets the chair.”
 Carter seems to ponder the suggestion.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Two of the three terrorists, Beilgan and Shatza, drink coffee and discuss recent news events at a kitchen table in a third floor apartment building across town from their basement office.

Shatza moves toward the window to have a peek outside. “I’ll take two more cards.” He places two playing cards onto the table.

Beilgan tosses two cards towards Shatza’s seat. “Still there?”

Shatza places his index finger over his lips to silence Beilgan. “Yes and still ugly.” He continues looking down at an unmarked police van below their window where officers Short Henry and George Nayal set up their undercover operation.

The van has a row of audio equipment in the back where the two sit barely awake.

Shatza and Beilgan’s conversation continues through a speaker in the van.

“Can I see a third?”

“No just the two.”

“Thanks.”

“Teacher in class told me the east building will be closed for next three weeks renovation.”

“Then we have to take long walk around?”

“Yes.”

Short Henry yawns and lowers the volume. They can still be heard slightly. “These bores should sell bed time stories. This is brutal.”

“At least we’re not stuck in the office listening to Drea’s nonsense.”

Henry raises his coffee mug. “I’ll drink to that.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 Kip and Berg clean themselves up in the precinct locker room. They discuss Charlie while he’s not present. “I’ve had just about enough of that fag prancing around here.”
 “Give the guy a break. He’s a little feminine.” 
 “Give him a break? Give me a break. A little feminine? If he were any more feminine he’d be pregnant.”
 Justin walks in slowly with obvious pain in each step. “Hello boys.”
 “Jeez, what’s with you? Hurting?”
 “You look like my grandfather.”
 “Is he sick?”
 “No, he’s dead.”
 “That bad huh?”
 “Just screwing with ya.”
 “Where’s Charlie?”
 “Probably going down on his uncle.”
 “Still less manly than your sister?”
 “Much. Look, I’m done with it. I can’t have a homo partner. He may lose his job pretty soon.”
 “How?”
 “Someone might find out about his illegal activities.”
 “C’mon Kip, you wouldn’t do that.”
 “I can’t take him anymore.”
 “You’d set him up with B.S. stories?”
 “We’ll see. What the hell you doing here anyway? Are you coming back?”
 “I’ll inform you when the time comes. You got my back for now?”
 “We always got your back.”
 “You know that.”
 “Wish you had our back on the job. There’s talk about us going into a terrorist cell to crack some skulls.”
 Justin is astounded. He pushes on one of the lockers and takes a seat. “Are you serious?”
 “Don’t you wish you were in?”
 “Part of me does.”
 “Sticking together is key.”
 “Justin, is there something going on? Since you’ve been out the Cap’s been extra quiet and he’s not himself.”
 “I’ll fill you in at the right time. Just let me make my quick visits so I can leave and have you guys envy my freedom from the job.” He cracks a smile.
 Kip softens. He can sense that something is not right. “You got it bro.” They shake hands. Berg puts his hand on top.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 The loud Chinese language echoes throughout the restaurant. Pots and woks clang with spoons. Chin hollers while walking in through the back screen door. He sees Justin standing at the counter on his cell phone.
 “Jus-in! Again see you? What pleasure. Told you break out from curry.” Chin laughs and points at Justin’s face. The small pock marks are still visible.
 “Hey Chin. I was just about to call mom.”
 “Tell her herro.”
 “Of course.” His phone rings. “One second Chin.”
 “I get you Singapore?”
 “You know how I like it.”
 “White meat chicken only. No pork, no shrimp, no mushroom.”
 Justin smiles and nods. A quick wince from the neck pain as he answers the phone. “Herro, sorry, I mean hello.”
 A woman sits behind a desk in an insurance office. Her name plate reads, Tiffany. Long dark brown hair, big blue eyes, tightly built frame. She is confused at first at Justin’s greeting then recalls her reason for the call. “Mr. Haygen?”
 “Yes?”
 “Hi, it’s Tiffany from Melda multi-group life. I just finished speaking with your wife and she informed me that you are interested in raising your life insurance.”
 He has a devastated look, confused at first, anger shortly follows. He puts his hand over the receiver for a split second. “That bitch.” He puts his hand back down. “Why yes. I am so glad you contacted me. There was an adjustment I needed to make to the policy.” He steps toward the door and makes his way to the sidewalk while holding the door for a less than admirable young punk, Derreck.
 The lowly teenager stands in front of the counter. His pants hang below his waist with boxers visible. His cap turned to the side, a thick, silver dog chain around his neck and an arrogant lisp in his voice. “Yo homey, where my bean curds bitch?” 
 The cooks behind the counter don’t know what to make of the trouble maker. One of them speaks some Chinese and laughs. 
 The undesirable pulls out a 38 special and holds it sideways pointing it at the workers. “Am I funny now muther fuh-” 
 Chin steps to the counter. “What you want? I give you what you want.”
 “Ain’t funny no more, right slanty eye bitch?” 
 Chin backs up with his hands raised.
 “Empty the register Chink!”
 Chin begins to hand over cash. The despicable youth shoots off a round. Chin takes a bullet. Derreck takes aim for a second shot right for Chin’s head. Justin runs back in after hearing the first shot. Derreck surprised lowers the gun and makes off with a handful of cash.
 Justin runs out into the street reaching for his knees in pain. He slowly makes his way back inside. “Chin I’m sorry. I can’t run so good.” Justin notices Chin on the floor, a puddle of blood around him. One worker tries to explain the emergency over the phone, the others surround Chin.
 Justin grabs the phone in a frenzy while pulling off his own shirt to slow the blood spill.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 At nightfall Justin pulls up to his house in the pick up truck. Some disturbing sounds come from a portable radio where Alissa and a couple of her degenerate friends hang around on the porch. A closer look reveals the punk who shot Chin. Derreck squints at Justin’s truck while taking a toke off a joint.
 One of the other females dressed trashy and as loose as a peep show whore, rubs another kid’s crotch while sucking on the end of a forty ounce bottle of beer.
 Justin puts his head down with slight pain in his neck. He can’t tell that it is Derreck from his point of view. “Ozasin. I need strength. I need that invitation.” He looks over once again.
 Alissa notices his truck, she appears disgusted.
 Justin pulls off down the road. 
 After a block or so he reaches in the glove compartment and finds an old package of cigarettes. He pulls one out and lights it. “At least I can enjoy this without the guilt now.”
 He continues down the road with one of his dead rock star heroes playing on the tape deck. He pulls to the side of the dirt road where weeds grow higher than the truck. It’s a sight inspired for a suicide attempt. He is back at Tops eht. 
 He takes a long drag of a cigarette before flicking it into the weeds. He stares up at the lonely sky. “The moon is bright tonight. The fish’ll be biting in the morning. Alaska will be cold. Florida will be warm and I’ll still be in pain tomorrow.” He shuts his eyes and slowly sinks in his seat.
 Ozasin appears between the clouds, he allows a young man to pass and then looks to Justin. “Not doing so well this evening?”
 “You would know.”
 “You can’t end it yourself. That’s no way to earn an invitation.”
 “I’m sure you’d be tempted to take your life too.”
 “Be patient.”
 “I’ll try. Some of these tests can put someone over the edge. This garbage that was once my daughter? What she’s doing to herself?”
 “It is a disgrace.”
 “Drugs, spray paint, graffiti pollutionists, gun dealers and that rap shit? That is the perfect soundtrack to an evil apocalypse. She didn’t learn anything about real music over the years.” 
 Ozasin shakes his head.
 “And that so called mother allows it and on top of that she knows I am sick and wants to increase the bounty on my swollen head?”
 Ozasin smiles and lets another person through after viewing the invite.
 “Tell me how to get one of those.”
 Ozasin stares back comforting.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 Kip and Berg sit in the locker room adjusting their guns when Justin enters. He places his cane to the side where they won’t notice and slowly walks toward them.
 “Hey old man. Ready to come back to work?”
 “Not just yet. I’m still enjoying the vacation.”
 “You could have fooled me. You’re here more now than when you carried the badge.”
 They laugh for a moment as Cap rushes in. “You guys get your gear together and move out!”
 “Sure Cap.”
 “What is it?”
 “Looks like a murder. Turn on your radio’s and get going.”
 Kip and Berg rush out. Charlie runs by wearing a towel. Justin is dumbfounded. “Can I help Cap?”
 “Come with me.”
 He follows Cap around the precinct listening.
 “When did children become so evil? I don’t remember attacking people in the street for the sport of it. We had our share of fights but carrying guns? This sort of thing can’t be tolerated.” They stop at a vending machine. “You want something Justin?”
 “No thanks.”
 Cap gets his snack and continues on his way with Justin following. “My dad would have kicked my ass if I acted like these young fools of today. That’s the problem, parents have zero control. This nonsense didn’t go on back then. Cops were cops, a kid was out of line, he got knocked back in line by a night stick. None of this crap about excessive force or police brutality where lawyers climb over one another to put a crime fighter behind bars and get a hefty payday for taking down a good guy.”
 “I know what you mean Cap.”
 They take a seat in Cap’s office. “I’m pretty broken up about your situation. If there’s anything, anything at all.” Cap shakes his finger then wipes his eye.
 “I got ya Cap. So what’s the fuss about?”
 “Some dirt bag gang banger was reported leaving the scene of a shootout. These kids are getting out of control. But I don’t need to tell you after your friend Chin took a bullet. How’s he doing anyway?”
 “Not so good from what I hear. I’m heading to his place for lunch later.”
 “Lay off that curry, I can see it in your face.”
 “Thanks for that.”
 “Sorry, I guess it doesn’t matter.”
 “Thanks again.”
 “Sorry, I don’t know what to say given your situation.”
 “I understand.”
 A crackling comes through on the radio. “Cap, we got something here.” It’s Berg. He stands against his squad car with two young teenagers. Kip hands them each a bottle of soda. The taller one, Jeff, a clean cut African American kid with a nervous appearance. The shorter, William, Caucasian, also clean cut but talkative. He grabs the soda while volunteering information. 
 He describes Derreck, the same culprit that shot Chin. “A trouble making white kid with his pants falling down, a thick neck chain and a sideways cap. He had scrubby facial hair and a rotten attitude.”
 Berg speaks back into the radio. “Get all that Cap?”
 Justin makes fists, the anger and pain combined give him a look of insanity. “That sounds like the same piece of.” He holds his chest unable to finish his sentence while coughing.
 Cap knows what Justin is thinking. “We think that may be the same useless prick that shot the Chinese restaurant owner.”
 Berg shakes his head. “Figures. What do you want me to do with these kids?”
 “Bring em in for a written statement and then we’ll send them on their way.” He puts the radio down. “Justin, I know you want to help but this is going to put you over the edge.”
 “I know.” He continues to hold his chest.
 “You’re one of the best officers to ever set foot in this precinct. And you will always be the best in my eyes.”
 “Thanks Cap.” Justin walks through the locker room at the brink of tears and grabs his cane.
 Cap stands at the office door with a look of helpless pity. He shakes his head wishing he could offer comfort to a man of need stuck in a body with no hope.
 Justin continues out the door and slowly up the street where he finds himself in front of Jarway’s. He is greeted by his old friend inside. “Now a cane? Boy you better start explaining.”
 “Look Felix, I’m not doing so good. I don’t want to get into details.” He appears angrier than usual.
 “That’s cool with me. Want to get on the computer?”
 “Yes.”
 “Gimme one so I know we still friends.”

“Jimmy Hendrix, 1970.” Justin makes his way behind the counter to the computer. Jarway goes about sweeping the floor. “If hearing about the crimes is going to get to you like this you should stay away from the precinct.”

Justin stares at Jarway. His face asks how the hell did you know what was bothering me?

CHAPTER TWENTY

 In the dingy basement office space, Rezmar, Beilgan, Shatza, and two other terrorists go over paperwork. This is their sleeper cell. Rezmar is amused. “Homeland security. They make me laugh. They search us in apartment and know nothing about our real location.”
 “Keep this place quiet. They could follow us here any time.”
 “Shatza is right. We must keep this mission silent. Those nosy do gooders foil too many of our operations already. We have nice mission don’t need it to be ruined. You’re guys know what to do along I80?”
 “They’ll be there. Have seven trucks ready to be loaded.”
 “This is good.”
 “We have I95 covered from Florida to North Carolina.”
 “This Earth will make the sun look like sparkler.”
 The group has intensions of starting multiple fires along acres of land along major highways beginning in the United States. Once all of the countries fire departments are busy with the tremendous blazes they intend on going after gas stations and major cities. Their main goal is to watch the Earth burn as the Sun does.
 “Two suns. This will make them wish oil was not most important to them.” Rezmar’s devil like grin exposes his evil eyes gazing towards the sun outside beaming through the window.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

 Alissa stands behind Derreck while rubbing his shoulders in Justin’s kitchen. She hands Derreck a beer while he sits complaining. “You know what I’m sayin? Dem little bitches should be mindin they own business yo. I have to get rid of they ass execution style. Know what I’m sayin?”
 Derrecks nine month pregnant sister Deedra sits across from him. “Stop talking like that. You need to get your dumb ass in school and stop robbing people. You’re not a gangster. You’re a punk that needs to grow up some.” She sips his beer.
 “They messin with the wrong gappa now. Know what I’m sayin?”
 “Give it a rest and get over it Derreck.”
 “Don’t tell me what to do bitch. You’re my sister not my pops!” He stands, puts his hand in her face, walks through the living room and swings the screen door open abruptly then rushes down the front steps. He secures his gun in the front of his pants.
 Alissa is upset with Deedra. “Why you had to start that mess? Them kids need a wake up call. Now they gonna get what they deserve because you shot your mouth off.”
 “Don’t make me tell you what I think about you Alissa. My brother is screwed up enough without your moronic impact.” She grabs her purse and makes her way out where the screen door does not close correctly.
 Alissa looks at the chairs around the table confused as to how the room emptied so quickly. She sits, shakes the can to see if there is beer remaining and smiles realizing it is still full. She takes a long swig.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

 Justin sits at Chin’s with his cell phone open on the table. Chin is not there. Justin speaks to his mom. “Have you ever heard of Kemper Halloway?”
 At the Chinese restaurant in New Jersey, Rose is in shock. “Why would you ask something like that?”
 “Just making conversation.”
 “There’s much better ways.”
 “So I guess you know he was pretty sick.”
 “Sick is not the word for what that poor man went through.”
 “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”
 “It’s good that you know. Kemper Halloway suffered more than any other man I can think of. Day in and day out for seventy one days that man lived in the fiercest of pain subjected to a depressing hospital bed. He just wanted to die and they wouldn’t let him.”
 “Why wouldn’t they?”
 “It’s against the law to let someone die who can hold on.”
 “But if he’s in that much pain.”
 “It doesn’t matter baby boy. You could ask to be executed but they can’t do it. His stomach, his bones, his muscles, his privates.”
 “Ma please.”
 “Every inch of the poor man was in pain as if he was burning to death everyday.”
 “How do you know so much about him?”
 “I shared a hospital room with him for a day and I met his family.”
 “Why were you in the hospital?”
 “I was giving birth.”
 “To me?”
 “Yes, to you. Blessed Sacrament Memorial. The minute you entered the world, Kemper exited the world. He and I both relieved our pain at the same time.”
 Justin’s mouth hangs open while he stares at the phone.
 Rose continues to eat while making a face suggesting sorrow for Kemper Halloway.
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

 The group of high level law enforcement officials sit around the table in the conference room once again. Carter Strie sits in front of the window as the sun sets in the background. “They’re making us look stupid. That’s what they’re doing.”
 Drea has a victorious grin. “Just admit that you ASS-umed that it was a sleeper cell when it was merely an apartment for some Islamic youth’s.”
 George removes himself from the room. “I’m not going to listen to her do this again.” He holds his ears while exiting.
 Carter is not pleased. “George! George get your ass back here!”
 George continues down the hall.
 “Okay, forget George. Has anyone seen the latest puzzle?” 
 “That stuff is getting pretty freaky.”
 Carter stands and looks out the window down across a lake. “Innocent victims are going to be hit. Even though the two victims so far may have deserved it, we can’t let a vigilante run loose on these streets. He wants to get a message across and when he runs out of bad guys he’s gonna keep this up just for kicks.”
 Outside in the darkness across the lake, beyond the trees, on the other side of the rail road tracks, Jeff and William, the witnesses of Derreck’s crime walk past the park on their way home. 
 Jeff shakes his head as if in awe over what they had been through. “That was some crazy stuff.”
 “I never seen anything so messed up. And we actually got to help the cops.” William appears excited about the experience. 
 “Yea, I guess that was cool.”
 From behind a garbage dumpster the two young men are visible walking along. A gun is pointed at them.
 William crosses his arms. “I didn’t expect it to get so cold.”
 “It has gotten cool the last few nights.”
 The gun is cocked. A soft, sinister laugh from behind the dumpster. Two shots are fired. All appears black as blood spills on the cement. 
 William runs a short distance and places his hands on his knees while looking at the ground with fear throughout his body.
 Jeff lies on the ground in shock.
 William slowly approaches Jeff and leans down to check him for holes. His hand flows over Jeff’s clothing. “They missed! You’re okay! Jeff, you can get up they missed us.”
 Jeff’s eyes move slightly. “You sure? I think I’m hit.”
 “I don’t see no blood.”
 “You still cold?”
 “No. Not no more.”
 “Me neither.”
 William helps him to his feet. Jeff begins to brush himself off and notices something by the dumpster. He can barely speak. “W-W-William?” He points.
 William is also stunned. “Oh my God!” They approach the dumpster.
 Derreck lies in a pool of blood. His hands are removed from his arms and stuck to a spray paint can near a wall of graffiti. A note of the same form as the others is pinned to his shirt. SYEEYMNITESBEHTEBSWAYLALILWUOY.
 A squad car pulls up. Berg and Gina make their way over to the two boys. Berg remembers them. “Is this the guy?”
 They both nod as Gina takes a closer look with her hand over her mouth. She notices the detached hands and recalls Berg’s comment about the pollutionist's with their graffiti. She gives him a trustless stare. 
 Berg reads into the look. “Gina, come on. I know what I said about cutting them off but I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
 She walks away still covering her mouth. “I can’t look.”
 Berg brings his radio to his mouth. “Cap?”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

 Chin breathes through a tube while lying in a hospital bed surrounded by flowers and Chinese writing. A nurse fiddles with his bed and machines before exiting the room. Chin’s eyes flutter and shut as Justin exchanges a pleasant smile with the nurse on his way in.
 The ceiling bolted television displays a baseball game in which Chin has no clue of. Justin moves a magazine from the foot of the bed onto a full tray of hospital food while gripping Chin’s leg. “Herro buddy. In the mood to talk?”
 Chin’s eyes flutter again, a brief smile.
 “I heard they got the guy. I heard he went out with some force. Didn’t even get to finish desecrating the neighborhood with his poor art skills.”
 Chin’s lips smack.
 “Thought you’d like that. So how they treating you here? The food looks good.” Justin makes a face while examining the plate. “For a dog.”
 Chin moves his arm.
 “What? You thirsty?” Justin pours a cup and brings it to Chin’s lips as he takes a small sip. “Good job. The guys, they’re running your kitchen just the way you like it. You can probably tell by my face that the Singapore is as good as ever.” Justin sneers and rolls his neck while rubbing it. He sniffs to hold back a tear. “Look man, you’re gonna be fine. I may not be around the restaurant when you get back behind the fryer. It’s not that I don’t like your cooking. I love what you do to a noodle. You’re the best at what you do. I’m gonna miss the lunches me and mom share in there. Even though she’s not there physically we have the best time at your place.”
 The nurse glances in at the doorway to catch Justin tearing.
 “Even if I can’t understand everything you say you are a true friend. You probably don’t understand everything I say either. That’s what keeps relationships strong though. Sometimes you’re better off not knowing what your pals are saying. Let me just say I love you man. I hope you can impact someone else’s life the way you did mine. If you need me I’ll be off somewhere with Ozasin and Kemper Halloway. We’ll be waiting for you.”
 Justin removes himself from the bed and glances at the television. “Enjoy the game.” He walks to the door and exits the room.
 A tear rolls down Chin’s cheek. He attempts to raise a thumb. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

 Alissa’s face is sunk in her pillow while crying to Renee. “It’s just not fair. He was only trying to cover his tracks. Those damn kids shouldn’t have been there in the first place. They had no right to rat him out.”
 Renee places her hand on Alissa’s back. “I know. It’s not fair but he was a little wild.”
 “What? Are you going to act like he had this coming ma? Derreck was everything to me. So what if he liked to spray paint on walls or carry a gun. It’s not his fault some chink ran his mouth off or some kids saw him try to kill some jerk. I was in love with Derreck and now he’s gone.”
 Renee is sympathetic while rubbing Alissa’s back.
 “You don’t know what it’s like. If someone killed your pathetic husband it wouldn’t matter because he is a bum. You don’t have the love that Derreck and me had. He was special.”
 Deedra enters the house through the broken screen door. She cries abruptly without pause. Renee stands up quickly to hug her. “Deedra don’t. The baby.”
 “I know but these bastards killed my brother.”
 “Sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.” Renee steps into the kitchen as the pizza delivery man stands at the screen door. “Alissa! Did you order pizza?”
 Alissa jumps up from her bed where Deedra sits and runs to the door. She hands the kid some crumpled cash as she grabs a small white bag from him. The man leaves as Justin walks in clanging his cane against the screen door that barely clings to the hinges.
 Renee acts as if he does not exist while bringing the glass in for Deedra. 
 Justin mumbles to himself while investigating with the end of his cane. “Nice family. Funny that the pizza guy just left and there doesn’t appear to be an aroma of food.”
 Renee whispers to the girls. “The gimp is home and now he’s talking to himself. It shouldn’t be long before we get some insurance money.”
 Alissa sticks her face back in the pillow. “I don’t need to see that prick. It was probably one of his pig partners that killed my man.”
 Justin peers into the room. “You’ve treated me like I’ve been dead for a while now. I think you may get your wish. I just wanted to make an attempt to reconcile before anything happens.”
 The three are silent. Alissa’s middle finger rises from under the pillow. 
 “So be it. I’ve always had a clouded grey, milky dry opinion of myself anyway.” He limps inside.
 Deedra is astonished. “I’m shocked that you can treat your dad like that.”
 “Don’t be so surprised. He doesn’t like people like your brother. He’s like all of them cops who kill because they can.”
 Justin grabs some things and stops in the kitchen before leaving. “I’m going to dinner with the guys. Don’t wait up.” He notices a pad with some scribble, Alissa’s party March 16th – Place – Paragond Niteclub.
 Justin opens the door, it hangs by a thread. “Someone should fix this.” He exits the house.
 Renee shakes her head and hollers out. “You couldn’t even hold your pathetic job! Now that you don’t work you should attempt to raise your daughter!”
 He closes the truck door. “You already screwed that job up.” He pulls away.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
 
 
 Jarway sits behind the counter on the computer at the record store. “That Justin used the last of my paper. Could you get me some Nick?”
 Nick walks up the aisle organizing the records. “Sure Mr. Jarway.”
 “You look like you’re all set to run this place on your own.”
 “You got that right Mr. Jarway.” He walks into the back room.
 Justin enters while holding the door open with his cane finishing a conversation with Ursula who passes by. “Yea, stop by the restaurant tonight. You could help me out with something.” He rubs his back and neck.
 Nick makes his way back with a bundle of printer paper. “Hi Justin.”
 “Nick, good to see ya.”
 “I got him finding paper because of you.”
 “Oh please. I use one sheet every once in a while. You want a quarter?”
 “Once I retire you can give your quarters to Nick here and print on his paper.”
 “Retire?”
 “Yea, I’d like to spend the rest of my days at a beach house.”
 “That sounds nice. You deserve to kick back and spend some time at the beach. You and Chin.”
 Jarway smiles ear to ear. “And then this kid can live his dream running this place.”
 “Big dream.”
 “I just gotta find a way to get some extra cash to retire with.”
 “Before I take over, you’ve got some teaching to give me Justin.”

“What do you need to know? John Bonham of Led Zeppelin and Bon Scott of ACDC died in 1980, Jim Morrison of The Doors 1971, and Brian Jones of The Rolling Stones left us in 1969. What more is there to know?”

Jarway shakes his head. “Again with the deaths. When are you going to focus on the lives?”

“When the living learn how to behave themselves as well as the dead.”

“You got me there. You got that big fancy dinner tonight?”

Justin nods yes.

“Those guys are good friends.”

“The best.”

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

 A large ballroom type restaurant. Chandeliers, dim lighting, a well dressed maitre d leads a hobbling Justin to a table that seats six. Charlie, Kip, Berg, Gina and Cap applaud as Justin hangs his cane over the chair at the end of the table.
  The faces of his friends appear somber and curious toward his dilemma. He winces as the man pulls the chair out for him. “Thank you sir.”
 “Very well.” The maitre d distributes wine lists.
 Cap clears his throat and raises his champagne glass. “We’re glad you could make it Justin.”
 They all raise their glasses as Cap continues. “One of the finest on the job. You made all of our careers unforgettable day in and day out. Thanks Justin.”
 “To Justin.”
 “Here’s to you Justin.”
 Charlie and Gina tear up. Kip looks at Charlie in disgust. Berg takes Gina’s hand. She hesitates then gives in.
 Soft music plays, a waiter serves drinks as Justin wipes his eye. “Thank you all. It is nice to have friends as sincere as you. If I was ever able to work again, this would be the group to do it with.”
 Kip pretends to hold back a yawn to break the tension. Subtle laughs can be heard around the table.
 Berg takes a gulp of his cocktail. “You’re the second best partner I ever had.”
 Gina blushes. 
 “We’d love to have you back.”
 Justin throws a paper on the table. “I have a lead on a drug and gun fest you may be interested in.” The sheet sits beside the bottle of wine. March 16th Paragond Niteclub.
 “We’ll take care of it.”
 “If you see my daughter there tell her daddy is still watching.”
 “You got it.”
 Justin notices Ursula by the door. “Please excuse me a second.” He grabs his cane and slowly walks off.
 Gina wipes her tears. “He is so strong. I feel terrible. I don’t know what to say.”
 “None of us know what to say.”
 “Cap, do you know what he has?”
 “Let’s just enjoy the dinner. Any of you guys getting anywhere with that sleeper cell?”
 “It’s just an apartment sir.”
 “No traces of anything illegal.”
 “Let’s accept our losses and pull out of there.”
 Cap becomes stern. “First of all I know those men are up to something, and secondly if I even thought of pulling out Strie would have my head.”
 Kip chuckles. “Tell him to stand in line behind Charlie.”
 Charlie sucks his lip. 
 “That’s right. You’d probably enjoy him behind you.”
 Charlie stands and walks toward the men’s room. Cap stares at Kip who becomes defensive. “What? He’s a fag Cap.”
 “That’s enough of that!”
 Justin stands in the lobby with Ursula having a drink as he points out Charlie to her. “Like I said, he needs you more than I do. I would love to let you roll all over me for a night but I am married. Married to a witch, but nonetheless, married.”
 “You are probably the sweetest man I ever met Justin. I can’t accept money for the favor. Just get me another two drinks and I’m all over that friend of yours. He’ll forget what a man tastes like after I show him what a little Ursula can do.” She holds back a hic-cup, puts down an empty glass and picks up a full one. 
 
 

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