The fall of a hero

The fall of a hero

A Story by ShawnDMorrow
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Jack Ryder has been a police officer for 15 years. He has been through many bad things but also some good things. But after a life altering incident on duty his life is forever changed.

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Jack lies awake staring at the ceiling as the cars rush by his suburban home. He pulls himself up looks at the clock with the lack of sleep quite noticeable in his eyes. The clock reads six thirty in the morning, he turns his head to look over his shoulder at the empty ruffled sheets beside him. It has been six months since the divorce was finalized. Jack hardly sleeps at night since his ex wife walked out on him, what she said the night she left still haunts Jack like a bad dream that never goes away. “It’s not you Jack, It’s what you do I can’t live with stress of not knowing if you’re going to come back through the door at night.” Is what she said with glistening tears in her eyes, voice shaking as she grabbed her bags and walked out the door. 

Jack is a police officer with the 12th precinct with the Detroit Police department.  He has had a badge and a gun for 15 years. Cop runs in his blood his father was also a patrolman for the 12th precinct as was his father. Jack stands stretches and walks to the bathroom, hitting the light switch as he walks in. Turns the shower on, he stands looking at himself in the mirror. Dark brown hair in the standard buzz cut his hair hasn’t grown out since he joined the force. His bright blue tired eyes are staring back at him. Why me he asks? Still to this day he asks himself this question. Wondering when the pain will subside. He then turns; steps into the shower just letting the water run over his toned and very muscular five foot three inch body.

He steps out of the shower feeling awake as much as possible. He walks back to the bedroom opens his closet doors, revealing a very empty closet. His clothes are neatly folded and placed on the left half of the closet. As if Kate is going to move back in. He knows this will not happen but old habits are hard to break. He grabs his uniform that hangs neatly in the closet; he lays it out on the bed. He carefully puts each piece on, ensuring that everything is neat and there is not one wrinkle, or one button undone. He takes his job quite seriously. As he puts his belt on and holsters his standard issue 9mm.

The night that his career almost ended sooner than he expected, He was on patrol with his partner Carl Jenson. Carl is about six foot five, two hundred sixty pound of pure muscle. He is a very good cop. He outweighs Jack by about forty pounds. They have been in patrol car thirty six for about 4 years now. Jack considers him a close friend. While on patrol a call comes over the radio “Unit 36 what is your 10-14?” the dispatcher says in a calm monotone voice. Jack reaches for the radio and keys the mic and says in a calm authoritative tone “Dispatch this is Unit 36 we are currently 10-5 at starbucks.” The dispatcher comes back over the radio with a little bit more concern in her speech she flatly says “Unit 36 that’s a negative we have a 10-19 at a fatal traffic collision on the freeway. No available units’ markers are a must.” Jack says back into the mic flatly as he hits the lights and sirens “10-4 dispatch we are enroute ETA 4 minutes.”

Carl steps on it, the blue and white cruiser flies through the streets lights flashing sirens blaring, Jack says to Carl in a Calm tone “Going to be a long night bubba, you ready?” Carl just nods as he speeds through a light. When they arrive on the scene of the crash Jack opens his door and steps out of his cruiser and looks over to see a car wedged under a semi truck there are screams coming from the black ford focus trapped under the trailer. Jack can smell smoke he runs over to the car to see a young girl no older than 6. Screaming “GET ME OUT, IM FINE” instinct takes over he grabs his knight stick and smashes the window, reaching in and grabbing the little girls’ hand. He says “grab my hand I’m here to help. I’m Constable Jack Ryder with the Detroit Police.” The little girls grabs his hand just as he gets her out of the car, he turns to walk away carrying the little girl when the car begins to burn. He turns and notices what is about to happen he puts the girl down and tells her to run to the police car. She nods and takes off. Just as she reaches the cruiser, Jack is about to turn around the end of the semi trailer when the car explodes and throws huge pieces of trailer and car flying through the air like missiles. A jagged piece of metal hits jack in the back of the head knocking him unconscious.

He was awarded the medal of bravery from the mayor of Detroit for saving that little girl. But the toll on his marriage was the ultimate price. Jack always remembers that night everyday when he goes to work. None of them know at the precinct the pain that Jack feels every day, He always walks into the precinct with his head down not smiling, the scar from where the six inch piece of flat steel embedded itself in his skull, prominently visible. They call him a hero he doesn’t feel like a hero. Heroes have wives and kids he thinks. Who look up to him, Jack has neither. He takes a swig out of his flask he always keeps full of vodka. It helps deal with the pain he gets in his head from time to time; it also helps with the heartbreak.

Jack locks to the front door of his home, waves to his neighbor Dave whom he hates but always waves and says good morning. Jack thinks as he climbs into his 2013 dodge ram 1500, do you think he knows? I drink and drive? Probably not if he does he won’t say anything. As he arrives at the precinct he downs a handful of mints steps out of his sighs and says to himself  “Here we go, last day on the job.” Then he wonders who will miss me? Bubba, Chief? Probably not, he wanders in to the precinct waves at everyone nods at the Chief. They all stare at him like he is the new guy, but what they are noticing is how a man breaks down after his wife leaves him because he will not leave the force.

Carl walks over and says “what’s up jack? You have been coming in smelling like vodka for months. Is Kate okay?” Jack looks up at Carl with his eyes glazed over, gritting his teeth “Don’t you ever say that f*****g name to me again.” Carl is taken back by this and yells back loud enough everyone can hear “Well if you weren’t so attached to your job maybe she would still be around.” He snickers as he says this. Jack has had enough by this point; he can’t live with himself anymore. He hates his life, his job and now his best friend. While everyone is laughing at Jack, he pulls out his standard issue 9mm points it right at Carls head and squeezes the trigger.

All the memories he has had with Carl have just been erased from his mind. Sweat rolling down jacks forehead he takes two shots. The first is a miss, the second catches Carl right in the side of the head as he is laughing. Jack snickers as he watches the inside of Carls head splatter itself all over the wall behind him. Then jack turns around and sees twenty two guns pointed at him.

The last thing he says is “God Bless America” then all you hear is twenty two guns go off riddling Jack with bullets, as he lays on the floor pooling in his own blood breathing his last breath. Having his last thoughts he finally smiles. The pain and torture he is over, when he was laid to rest there was no police funeral. He was buried in a masked grave. The 12th precinct to this day covers up the events of that day.

© 2015 ShawnDMorrow


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ShawnDMorrow
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Added on January 21, 2015
Last Updated on January 21, 2015
Tags: police, suspense, detroit, addiction

Author

ShawnDMorrow
ShawnDMorrow

Calgary, Alberta, Canada



About
I am a new up and coming author. I have only written privately before i have never opened up to share my work with others until recently. I am going to submit more of my writing online. My ultimate ho.. more..