The Sergeant Thing: Chapter 5

Chapter 5 of my Adam-12 fan fiction story! You can find Chapter 1 here.

The shelves blocked out almost all light, but Malloy made the kid as well as he could; he was stretched out on the concrete floor, about six feet in length, a light, checked shirt and blue jeans, 150 pounds, nineteen or twenty, and shining, curly hair. His eyes were shut, and a trail of tears ran down to his ear.

Blood spotted the right leg of his jeans. A wound from his hip bled through his shirt, but it was his left hand that drew Malloy’s gaze; it was spread over his stomach, rising and falling with each painful breath. It was covered in thick, bright red.

“Okay,” Will said. “Malloy, put your hands on your head and get on your knees by Bobby here. He’s gonna help us out.”

Bobby’s eyes opened, and he blinked back their watering as Malloy got down carefully beside him.

“Hey, Bobby,” he said softly. “You doing okay?”

The boy opened his mouth but caught his breath at a spasm of pain. Then he gave a stiff nod.

“Bobby,” Will said. He stood far behind them in the main aisle. “I want you to take Officer Malloy’s two guns. You think you can do that?”

Bobby swallowed and shoved his words out harshly. “I don’t know.” He shared the girl’s accent.

“Well, I’m going to shoot him and his partner if you don’t. You know I’m not joking. And who would take care of your sister then?”

Bobby bit his lip. His leg twitched and he gasped. “Alright,” he whispered. He lifted his right hand and seemed barely able to reach the belt. Finally, he grabbed the gun’s handle and pulled down. The magnetic edges of the holster released, and the gun was on the ground. Bobby breathed hard and loud.

“Good,” said Will. “Slide it over here.”

The boy tossed it, and it skittered along the smooth concrete until it stopped just past Reed. Then he dropped his hand, his fingers curled underneath and his wrist bent at a funny angle.

Will didn’t move. “Now the other one.”

Malloy ached to stop it. “Just don’t,” he said in a hard voice. “We’re not allowed to. You don’t need to.”

“You know I mean what I say, Bobby,” Will said. “I’ll kill them both.”

Bobby licked his lips. Another tear slid down his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, and pushed his hand up again. He found Jus’s gun where Malloy had stuck it, and he grunted as he tried to yank it out. Malloy sucked in his gut, and Bobby was able to bring it to the floor. He slid it toward Will and fell back, his strength spent.

Jus came around the corner and stopped beside Will, a tangle of bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Blood had already seeped through it.

Will handed him the shotgun. Since the danger was more-or-less over, their captor became businesslike. He stepped forward and took up Malloy’s gun. The other he kicked toward his partner, who traded for the more accurate weapon. “Reed,” he said, “step to your right and hold your hands behind your back.”

Malloy heard Reed’s cuffs being snapped in place. He reached out and checked Bobby’s pulse in his right wrist; not too bad. Next he felt the boy’s forehead, which was drenched in sweat and pale. That, too, was better than he’d expected. But the smell of blood, like five-dollars’-worth of pennies, was thick about them.

Something else caught his eye. Close behind and to the left of the boy was an angular pile. Malloy assumed it had once been a box, but it had become a heap of cardboard, its contents spilled across the ground. A bottle of relish had rolled across the aisle, the only survivor. The other occupants were shattered, ball shot strewn about them.

Malloy removed his jacket and draped it over the boy’s chest. He’d been shot here, in a dead end. Even though he couldn’t have escaped.

Malloy took a deep breath. When he had sufficient control, he spoke to Will. “He’s badly hurt. You need to get him to a hospital.”

The man snorted. “Save it.” He finished cuffing Reed and turned to Malloy. “You’re next. On your feet.”

Glancing to Jus, who looked capable of excellent aim despite his wound, Malloy obeyed.

“Over by that pole, and put your hands in the small of your back.”

The shelves were built off of metal poles stuck into the concrete. Malloy faced the one nearest him and brought his hands up. “I don’t know what else you’ve got on your plate, but murder isn’t a good dessert.”

Will ignored him. He unsnapped the leather pouch at Malloy’s belt, removed the cuffs, and tightened one over his prisoner’s right wrist. “Now bring it around the pole, and put your other hand by it.” And with one more snap, Malloy and Reed were locked in.

After patting the officers down for additional weapons, Will knelt swiftly beside Bobby and lifted the boy’s arm. He laid it down gently, but his face was impossible to read. He rose, backed up to his partner, and once again took the shotgun. “We’re gonna get up to that catwalk; it gives a good view of the whole place. Don’t try anything funny.” And they disappeared around the corner.

Copyright © Inkant