by: Kristy Duke
***JUNE 1979***
An icy chill slowly crawls up my spine as I force myself to stare into the cold, hard eyes of the muscular, evil killer that stands only feet away from me. “Well hello sheriff,”an evil smile slowly creeps across his handsome face as he quickly draws an automatic hand gun from somewhere within his dark windbreaker, sending my mind racing wildly within me. Fear accelerates within me as I stare into the dark barrel of the gun, my mind pictures his dead victims, their unheard cries for help echoes lively within me. “Heard you were lookin’ for me,” his thick voice quivers as his right palm quickly turns ghastly white as he clenches tightly upon the cold metal handle of the gun, “well here I am.”
I feel my hands clenching tightly at my sides as the gun man smugly smiles at me, his dark brown eyes are aglow with evil laughter while he stares deeply within me before he turns his attention to Rachel. My heart leaps with intense anger mixed with fear as I protectively glance over at Rachel who clings desperately onto my left elbow, her bright green eyes are brightly lit up in panic and fear. Glancing back up at the evil gun man, my mind quickly rushes through the information I have learned over the last couple of months about him and his gang, of the horrible things they have done. A shudder rushes harshly through me as I un-voluntarily think of their past victims, of the nightmares they had been forced to live through, of their pain, of their horrible death they suffered. Once again, I protectively glance over at Rachel as my mind rushes through panicked thoughts of what the next few moments will hold for us. My mouth abruptly turns dry as I am filled with intense fear for Rachel with anger swarming thickly within me towards the gun man.
Silence seems to explode between the three of us as a black bird caws somewhere within the thick woods that surrounds the back land of the old farm house. Turning my attention towards the muscular gun man, my stomach churns angrily in nerves as I slowly speak up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. . .I’m just on my lunch break.”
“Awww how sweet,” he grins at us before he raises a muscular hand from the pockets of the wind breaker and as he gently runs a finger across Rachel’s soft tan cheek, I angrily slap it away, “touchy aren’t we?”
“You leave her be!” I raise my voice and the thick hills that surround us, throws my words back at me, “She has nothing to do with you or what I have done or am doing!”
His dark eyes rest seductively upon Rachel for a long moment before he glares back at me with fires of anger and hatred burning his eyes. “You know damn well, sheriff, I don’t leave witnesses!” he hisses angrily at me, sending the hairs on my neck to stand and he glances more kindly at Rachel, “Not even pretty ones.”
Disbelief rapidly grows within me as I glance over his shoulder at the thick line of trees that surround the back of the old house before glancing to my right at the rolling hills off in the distance. My heart comes to abrupt stop as I suddenly realize that today might be the last day of my life, that his evil grin might by the last thing I see before closing my eyes to eternity. Fear seems to hold each breath I take as breathing becomes a difficult task as my mind numbly rotates fearful thoughts. Forcing myself to swallow, I slowly glance over at Rachel whose grip upon my arm tightens in fear as a small tear escapes her bright green eye to run down her cheek. If anything were to happen to her I’d . . .
“What you want, Whinston?” I fight back the fear that radiates within me, fighting for the strength that a sheriff should be made of. ‘Damn I’ve failed myself, my county with my cowardice, I should have stood up to him and his brothers when they first came to town.‘ “From me? From my town?”
He raises a questioning eye brow as he harshly scratches his chin that is covered darkly with thin hairs from a couple days of missed shavings, with the barrel of the gun. Aiming the gun back at us a broad confident smile spreads across his face as he quickly takes a step closer to us and in fear I harshly grab onto Rachel’s shoulder to protectively move her away from him. “I think you know what I want, sheriff,” he continues to grin, laughing silently at my fear, “we didn’t come to your hick town to stir trouble, just a place to hide,” he shrugs his shoulders as if it isn’t a big thing, “to get some money -”
“By robbing my bank? No one -” I start to say as my anger captures my fear, “you’ve killed two of my people, two innocent people and injured a ten year old boy…an innocent boy!” I fight back the emotions that rage angrily within me as I think of the child that lies in the hospital, fighting for his young life, “My town is a safe town and it is my job to keep it that way no matter what it takes…if that means dealing with the likes of you.”
“Bravo sheriff!” he laughs as he mockingly claps for me, “That was a very brave lecture you just given me, but it won’t hold nothing with me nor my men. You stirred the embers, sheriff, when you decided to give us chase, when you searched…and now came too close. You know well we don’t leave no witnesses, no one who can identify us. I’ve been awaiting for this day since the day you blew out my tire as we got away. . .since you began your search for us. I am glad that you brought company.”
My thoughts rush quickly within me, searching desperately for answers on how to stop the gang that has killed so many, tortured so many. My fear burrows deeper within me as I am suddenly reminded of the sheriff they had killed in Alabama, of the bloody pictures they had printed in the newspaper. Staring into the barrel of the black metal gun, my mind fixates upon my customary police model gun that hangs in it’s holster in my leather belt. Throughout my years as sheriff, I never had to draw it at a suspect or felt the need to carry it, until now. Yet, I don’t dare reach for it, the moment I reach for it, I’ll be lying dead upon the hot dirt, looking like that other sheriff.
“I wouldn’t be thinkin’ of anything heroic, sheriff,” he smiles at me as if reading my thoughts, “because I’d hate to have to kill her first, to force you to watch the one person you care for, die before your own eyes.” His eyes light up as if he has come across a great idea as he slowly reaches up to brush his muscular hands across Rachel’s soft cheek again. My heart races quickly within me as I abruptly step into his muscular body to grab tightly onto his muscular arm that rests upon Rachel’s thin shoulder. Shock and recognition slowly filter through the gun man’s evil dark eyes as he struggles to aim his gun at me while I quickly yank his body around.
“You dumb jackass!” I hiss heavily within the large man’s ear as I angrily shove him face first into the weak, aging wooden wall of an abandoned farm house. My thoughts race rapidly within me as I gasp desperately for air while my adrenaline continues to climb quickly within me, feeding upon the anger that rages within me. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do will hold against you in the state of law,” I numbly recite his rights through forceful breathing while I yank my handcuffs out of the loop of my gun belt. Forcing his muscular arms behind his back I hear an vehicle approaching upon the dusty dirt road and foot steps shuffling against the dry grass from right behind me.
“You think you’re strong now don’t you sheriff? Catching the men that has robbed more banks in the south than you can count…you think you’re big stuff,” Whinston hisses under his breath as I hold his big muscular body tightly against the aging house with my own body. Fighting back the anger that continues to boil within me, I quickly lock the handcuffs onto this muscular wrists. “Well you won’t get away with it…you have no clue who you are dealing with.”
“Oh yeah I do,” I whisper into his ear as I hold onto his shackled wrists, “you’re a low life cri -”
“No…Ro-” Rachel’s soft caring voice rings out full of panic and fear to be abruptly interrupted by an harsh explosion from behind me. Chills rush rapidly up and down my body at hearing Rachel’s high pitched scream full of pain and fear as I quickly turn around to find her petite body slowly crumbling onto the sun bathed ground.
“Rachel,” I mutter breathlessly as blood quickly begins to stain her thin lavender purple summer dress an inch below her left shoulder blade. Fear and anger spirals through me as I quickly glance up to find Warren standing boldly a few feet down the small hill from Rachel’s still body, his evil black gun remains aimed at Rachel’s blood stained body. For a long moment I stare at Warren, Whinston’s youngest brother, whose dark brown eyes remain hooded in his own panic as his eyes slowly rise towards his cuffed brother. “You jackass!” I abruptly yell to bring Warren’s young eyes back on me as I take a couple of rushed steps towards Rachel’s silent body and Warren quickly rises his gun onto me.
Staring back into the younger Marlin brother’s steel barrel of his gun, my mind once again begins to spin rapidly within me, filled with horrid thoughts of Rachel that lies a foot ahead of me. Emotions rages within me as I stare into the steel barrel of his gun as Warren’s thick index finger slowly inches towards the metal trigger, his brown eyes dances with evil greed; feeding upon adrenaline from shooting Rachel. Old police training quickly rides my adrenaline as I throw any concern for myself away as I abruptly yank my police custom handgun from it’s snapped holster. Thinking of Rachel lying on the ground next to me, most likely dead, I angrily point the gun at Warren, just as he angrily pulls at his trigger. I am abruptly thrown harshly upon the hard ground as the cold steel bullet digs deeply into my lower right shoulder and pain is thrown throughout my body.
Blackness quickly threatens to wash over me as I slowly glance up at Warren through tear blurred vision to find him quickly re-aiming his gun back at me with vengeance in his stormy dark eyes. Grabbing a tight hold upon the icy cold metal handle of my own gun with a sweaty right hand, I quickly struggle to aim it towards the dark figure that stands over me. Fearing my own death I quickly find the trigger where I quickly yank at it to send pain throbbing through my wounded shoulder with the recoil of each shot. My shots echos off of the rolling hills that surrounds us off in the distance as Warren’s pain-filled yell quickly follows before his ragged body is thrown to the ground beside me.
“Warren!” Whinston’s voice cries out from behind me somewhere, reminding me of where I was before Rachel had cried out to me, warning me of Warren. Fighting back the blackness that slowly melts through me, I hesitantly climb up to my knees to find Whinston remaining standing against the old farm house, watching with his face drawn up in horror. A wave of dizziness mixed with nausea floods through me as I slowly pull myself up with help of a near by tree, fighting to steady myself. “You jackass!” Whinston yells at me as I slowly walk over to where he stands, fighting to ignore the pain that throbs through my body, fighting back the impulse to glance back at Rachel, “You killed my brother! You won’t get away with this…I don’t care if it’s the last thing I do, but you will pay gravely for what you did!”
“You are under arrest-” I force out as breathing becomes forceful and difficult as I slowly feel myself losing my battle with the darkness while I start to cough painfully, “for -” I force out again as my coughing comes to a small stop as I hear a squeal of tires from somewhere behind me. Grabbing a tight hold upon the chain of his handcuffed hands for support, I slowly glance back to find Jesse Duke’s dusty white pick up truck parked a few feet away; through his open window, I watch as he talks into his CB handle.
For a long moment, I painfully stare at Rachel’s petite body lying in the long grass, her bare arms are nicely tanned from her long hours under the sun with her pretty garden, with our long fishing expeditions we have went on over the last couple of months. Her velvet soft dark chestnut hair lies in gently in the grass and over her beautiful thin and soft face, her caring green eyes. Anger washes over me as I slowly collapse back onto the hard ground, hitting the back of my head upon the old farm house.
Pain continues to flare through my shoulder where I had been shot as I slowly force myself to glance down where I had been shot at for the first time, to find thick blood quickly oozing out of an rugged long hole in the shoulder of my uniform, only an inch from my chest. “Sheriff,” Jesse’s caring voice is thick with fear as he slowly looks over Rachel, taking her pulse before walking up to me, “an ambulance is on it’s way here as well as your deputy.”
“Thank-you Jesse,” I slowly gasp as I stare at Rachel’s still body and I slowly pull myself away from Jesse and Whinston, fighting back the pain as I slowly inch my way towards Rachel. Emotions rages angrily within me as I fight to imagine a life without Rachel, life had been so empty, so lonely before she had entered my life over three years ago. She had came to me three years ago in search of her arrested brother that I had arrested the previous night for a fight at The Boar’s Nest and swept me right away. Three long years of happiness and joy, with thought of marriage and a family, to be shattered with a single bullet, shattered within a second.
“Rachel,” I softly mutter as I reach her to slowly search for a pulse with great hope, only for my thin hope to be washed away with the expected reality, she’s dead. “Damn it,” I gasp mutter angrily as I gently roll her over, wishing to hold her one last time, wishing I could at least tell her one more time how much I love her. Tears wash down my face as I ignore my own fiery pain as I pull her on my lap and begin to run my fingers through her soft hair as flash backs of my last three years with her flash through my foggy head. “I love you, Rachel,” I slowly whisper as I slowly run a trembling hand over her face, slowly closing her eyes to escape the blank glare from her caring green eyes, the death glare. Carefully picking up her lifeless right hand that rests upon the warm ground beneath us, a sharp chill rushes through me at finding her stiffening hand to be deathly cold.
For a short moment I glance up as sirens pierce through the still warm air before glaring back down at my fiancee, the one I was to marry in only a couple of months. Guilt quickly soars within me as I think of the small walk she had talked me into taking during my lunch break, if only I had protested, only if I had chosen a different road we wouldn’t have ran into the Marlins on accident…would still be counting down the days to the day I wed Rachel. Instead of a wedding, she’ll be having a funeral. “Damn it,” I mutter as I stare into her ashen face, watching death take it’s harsh hold over her as drops of my blood drips from my uniform onto her soft thin dress.
“Rosco!” a familiar voice rings out as a car comes to an abrupt stop a few feet away and I glance up to find Jackson Davis, my young deputy quickly climbing out of the driver seat of his patrol car as Marshall Lee climbs out of the passenger side, my other deputy. Fear strikes both of their handsome faces as they quickly approach me before Marshall spots Whinston with Jesse. “Oh my -” Jackson’s face goes deathly pale as he stares into Rachel who lies in my arms before looking up to find tears streaking freely down my cheeks, along with the blood that drains within me. “An ambulance is on it’s way, right now.” As if on cue, another set of sirens wails out in the near distance Jackson drags out his thin handkerchief to press it to my gun wound as Jesse slowly joins us.
“She wanted to go for a walk,” I begin to cough painfully once again for a long while before it slowly eases to a stop, “for my lunch break and she wanted to go this way. We found,” I pause fighting for the air that seems to cease to exist, “their hiding place…on accident. He was out. . .on his deck and stopped us.”
“OK sheriff, it’s ok,” Jackson says with uncertainty in his voice.
“Warren snuck in when I was arresting his brother,” I gasp, “and shot Rachel when she warned me of his presence…then he shot me…and I shot him before he got a better aim.”
The annoying sirens comes an abrupt stop only a few feet away from me, it’s bright lights continue to flicker across the bright green grass as I spot Marshall running from the patrol car over to Warren. “He’s dead,” he informs the paramedics, “as is Rachel…Rosco is shot in the shoulder.”
For a long moment I hold tightly onto Rachel in fear of them taking her away, of never being able to hold her again, as I look into her deathly pale skin. Running a blood stained trembling hand through her soft hair I allow old memories to flood through me as my heart tightens with harsh grief with the loss of the one person I truly loved. The one person that had made me happy and made every day worth waking up to. “Sheriff,” the older paramedic says as he walks up with a stretcher and for a long moment I continue to ignore him, holding onto Rachel before I slowly nod. More tears streak my face at watching them carefully take her body from me as they wheel her to the back of the ambulance while the other paramedic approaches me. He asks me something and I numbly nod as I allow him and Jesse to help me up to my feet, where together they help to the back of the ambulance.