The Last One Home

Part 7

Officer Mitchell just happened to be on the opposite side of town when the call for a disturbance crackled across the radio. The dispatcher reported an abrupt nine one one hang up and possible burglary in progress. Waving off a very relieved driver he had pulled over minutes before, he returned to his cruiser and threw it into gear.

Four blocks from the scene he cut the siren.

"1216, be advised no answer on multiple callbacks. Last call indicated a possible struggle. Proceed with caution."

"You're clear," Officer Mitchell replied.

In a neighborhood on this side of town he knew the most likely scenario was kids goofing off. This wasn't the type of community that had problems with violent crime. In fact, he had trouble remembering the last time he had taken a call in this area.

Craning his neck he used his spotlight to illuminate the small address numbers on the houses. Finally, he found the number he had been looking for. 

Leaving his cruiser at the curb, Officer Mitchell crept towards the house, his hand on his gun. From its outward appearance the house seemed calm and quiet. Every window was dark He considered waiting on another unit to arrive, but something about the pickup truck in the driveway unsettled him. The drivers door hung wide open as if someone had jumped out in a hurry. Was this a concerned family member who had come to check on the family? Or possibly an intruder who didn't want to risk closing the door and giving himself away?

Office Mitchell unholstered his gun and cut a diagonal path across the short front lawn. His footsteps crunched through the half frozen grass. His pulse pounded in his head. The gun in his hand shook more than he would've liked.

Suddenly a burst of static cut through the silence. He slammed his hand over the mike at his collar. Standing to the right of the front door, Officer Mitchell pressed his back to the cold siding of the house. Reaching out his fist he banged 4 times on the door, rattling it in its frame. He held his breath listening for approaching footsteps.

Nothing.

Slowly exhaling, he decided not to knock again and placed his hand on the door knob. It turned easily in his hand. Officer Mitchell slowly pushed the door open. Standing in the warm living room, the house seemed still. He took two steps into the living room. On the third step he heard the scream. It sounded muffled as if someone's mouth was covered but it was unmistakable. He froze where he stood. The house suddenly seemed alive as if it were breathing all around him.

The gunshot shattered the silence, and Officer Mitchell felt as if he had been clubbed in the chest. The air left his lungs and he clawed at his vest. Pain bloomed from multiple broken ribs. 

The second shot struck him above the left eye, snapping his head back. Collapsing to the floor, he stared at the ceiling. His head felt warm and the sound of rushing water filled his ears. As his vision began to fade, Officer Mitchell saw a dark figure looming at his feet. He wondered if the shooter was wearing a mask because his grin seemed too big for his face. In his last few seconds on this earth he felt himself being drug deeper into the house and then nothing but silent darkness.