Down the Road: The Fall of Austin Read Free

We’ve arrived at
Riverside Apartments. Over.”
    The CB quickly buzzed its response. “10-4.
Proceed with caution. Over.”
    “I’m going to proceed with a boot up
someone’s ass. That’s how I’m going to proceed,” Derek said.
He was like a grumpy old man. The canned caffeine overdose was
doing him no favors. Mike could see Derek shaking a bit. Not from
fear. Derek had a handle on that. But from a caffeine high. It was
easy for Mike to see that Derek was on a hair trigger. He only
hoped the coming situation would not set him off too bad.
    “Would you cool it?” Mike asked.
    “I’m cool. I’m cool.”
    The two walked past the F building. The
apartment complex wasn’t sprawling by any means, but it felt
cluttered. The buildings were in line, but set up at odd angles,
creating a kind of disjointed landscape of curves and sharp angles.
A feng-shui master would have a fit at the “secret arrows” and
“negative energy” created by the random placement of the
structures. They were old buildings, probably built in the early
eighties, and had seen better days. Off-white paint was chipped
from the stucco and the roof tile was old and worn. Apartment
windows were covered in a thin white crust from years of spray
washing with hard water.
    In the distance, small groups of people from
various cultural backgrounds were gathered, both on the ground and
on balconies around one of the buildings.
    “That’s the H building,” Mike said.
    “Someone’s definitely going to get their ass
whipped,” Derek said, lacing the comment with a sprinkle of
bigotry. Mike wasn’t sure which situation would be the hardest to
handle: the domestic disturbance or his own high-strung
partner.
    He was currently most concerned at the
potential riot in front of the H building. It was easy to see and
even easier to hear that the group was riled up. It was a veritable
Texas potpourri of people: some white, some black, some Hispanic,
even a couple of Asians. Some were dressed very casually while
others had on their best urban clothes, complete with baseball caps
and sports jerseys with complementary colors. Several people were
already eyeballing Mike and Derek as they approached, and an
audible “five-oh” could be heard, warning everyone of the
approaching policemen.
    Realizing the potential that things could get
out of hand very quickly, and with the numbers obviously in favor
of the potential rioters, Mike erred on the side of safety and
wisdom. He reached for his CB and called back to command: “864 to
dispatch. Large gathering of people at address of disturbance.
Request assistance.”
    As Mike and Derek edged closer, screams
became audible. At first they thought it came from the gathering,
but when the muffled scream sounded again, they determined it was
coming from within the building.
    Derek dashed forward. For a moment Mike
feared he was going to bash his way through the crowd and set them
off, but Derek remained professional, at least for the moment,
sternly asking the crowd to get out of the way. A civilian
grumbled, “Get this out of your way,” and Mike was sure
Derek was going to pepper spray the crowd.
    But as Derek edged closer, the crowd
contemptuously cleared a path.
    Dispatch held Mike back a moment. “Dispatch
to 864. What’s your 20? Over.”
    Mike stopped in his tracks and replied to
dispatch, skipping protocol. “1700 Willow Lake Drive. Building H.
Over.” He immediately ran to join Derek. The path that had cleared
for Derek was now shut, and Mike found himself having to nudge two
large men out of the way. It was done with enough authority for
them to move, but not enough to be a challenge. It didn’t stop the
guys from cussing at Mike when he passed.
    “Bitch better watch who he’s fuckin’ pushin’,
motherfucker.”
    Stay calm , Mike thought. Even as he
passed through the wall of people, he still could not see
Derek.
    People began to scatter like frightened
pigeons; curious enough to want to know what was