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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