Run: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller Read Free Page A

he said that all units are getting the call, so something’s up. You still locked and loaded?”
    “No Rick, I got my service piece confiscated after my little incident with that punk. They haven’t given it back to me yet, and won’t until the investigation is over.” 
    “You’ll get it back, Dad, you did what anybody would have done,” Rick said. “That little shit killed two people that night, and you saved that guy at the gas station by taking out the trash. I’m proud of what you did, you know that.” 
    “I’m not proud that somebody died by my hand, but that gas station attendant’s wife was damn happy I happened to be there when he was getting robbed,” Rick’s father returned. “She brought me over some delicious Cuban sandwiches with those pickles. She said she would pray for me. Regardless, in 30 years on the force, I never fired my weapon at a suspect. One month retired, and I shoot somebody. Damn. One less crack-head I guess.” 
    “It was a good thing you did, Pop, he won’t be killing anyone else. Anyway, I’ll bring Sam over about 6:30 in the AM, is that too early? 
    “For me? Son, you know I’m up before the rooster. I’m an old man now, I’ll get the sleep I need when I’m dead.”
    “Dad, don’t say that,” admonished Rick. “Even though it is kind of funny.” 
    “Give an old man his pleasures, boy.”  
    “I hope I’m as tough as you when I get to be an old fart, old man,” Rick chided. 
    “ I get to call me old, you do it and you get an ass kickin’, kid,” his dad shot right back. 
    Rick laughed, “Ok potty-mouth, but no talking like that in front of Sam.” 
    “Sam who?” his father joked. “My Alzheimer’s is kickin’ in again.” 
    “I’m funnier than you, so quit trying, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
    “Night then,” his dad said and hung up.  
    After he hung up the phone, Rick went to his bedroom and opened up a lock box. He pulled out his .40 caliber Taurus service pistol, and removed the trigger lock. He brought it out to the living room, and began to meticulously clean it. As he was doing so, there were sirens outside his apartment building. These were ambulance sirens, not cop sirens, and this was nothing new in the city, so he paid little attention. When he was done cleaning the Taurus, he replaced the trigger lock, and put the weapon on his nightstand under a facecloth. Rick then went to his closet, unlocking that and the tall steel case hidden inside. Within were an assortment of weapons, and he removed a well-oiled SPAS-12 semi-automatic shotgun. He loaded the shotgun, installed a trigger lock, put the weapon back in the case, and locked that. Rick brushed his teeth and went to bed, thinking the department owed him big for bugging out on his daughter for a day. 
     

 
    3
     
    Rick woke groggily to a commotion outside his apartment building. The clock on the nightstand read 3:12 in green digital numbers. Someone was shouting, and Rick groggily trudged to his second story balcony to investigate. He could see the rotating emergency lights of an ambulance, and when he looked down at the street, he could see a paramedic pushing what looked like a homeless man away from him. A second paramedic was cradling his own arm and yelling at the homeless guy. Rick could see the paramedic was bleeding. The first paramedic gave the attacker a mighty shove, and the guy went ass-down with a half twist, landing hard on his arm. Rick could hear the guy’s arm snap from the balcony and shouted at the paramedic. 
    “Hey! Hey, what the hell are you doing!” 
    The paramedic looked up and said, “Go back inside sir, we’ve got this!” The guy with the broken arm started to get up, seemingly unfazed.  
    Rick yelled down again, pointing at the paramedic “I’m a cop, you stay right there!” He ducked back in the door and went to check on Sam, who she was sleeping soundly. He grabbed the Taurus, and as an afterthought, a pair of handcuffs. He