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Fight Or Flight (standard:drama, 2844 words) | |||
Author: Tony Dungate | Added: May 12 2008 | Views/Reads: 3247/2359 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A father takes desperate steps to protect his family and home. But does he go to far? | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story stolen the DVD player and he wanted to get a hold of that person. He now moved quickly to the kitchen. If there was anyone in there, he would rip them apart! He saw the room was empty and quickly grabbed the broom. Keeping any eye on the living room, he started to take the handle out of the broom. It would make a nice weapon! Once he had taken out the handle, he put the broom end on the countertop. Grabbing an end in each hand, he carried the like a quarterstaff as walked out of the kitchen. He walked the few steps towards the living room quickly ready for a sudden move. Caution was no longer necessary. He was primed to attack. Adrenaline was coursing through his body. There was no longer any question about fight or flight. Fleeing was no longer an option. He had been victimized. The wind blew the blinds in and out like the gills of a fish. He tensed as he heard the sound of the back yard creaking as it moved. Was it the wind or did someone move it? Thinking quickly he moved down the last two steps from the dining room and quickly looked to his left down the front hall stairs. He started to walk down the steps towards the front door and instinctively looked back towards the patio door in the living room. He crouched on the steps as he looked towards the living room in case someone was coming back. Would they be so cocky to think they could come back for more? God, he hoped so. The blinds moved to the right differently then they had been doing. It wasn't the wind as a face appeared. Indistinguishable by the darkness, the face looked cautiously around the room. Seeing no one, he stepped into the house and headed towards the TV stand. The bastard walked across the rug with his shoes on. Wendy was going to be pissed. He leaned behind the TV and played with cables no more than six feet away from Rick. He seemed to actually be considerate enough to not damage the cables. Rick tensed like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. He was ready to kill this person. The adrenaline was charging through his body like a power surge ready to explode. Just before he moved he relaxed. What was he doing! This person could have a knife or gun. Rick had a moment of weakness, the time when reality sets in. The moment when he wanted to cower and hide until the bandit left the house. Then the feeling of being violated hit him again. But he would wait. Wait until the bandit's hands were full. The bandit finished undoing the plugs totally oblivious to the Rick on the stairwell. When he was finished undoing the cables he took a quick look up into the dining room and up the stairs towards the bedrooms but failed to look downstairs. He must of only expected potential trouble to come from upstairs which left him totally off guard to Rick's attack. Just in case he thought to look downstairs, Rick stepped lower and crouched so that he could barely see over the lip of the top step. The bandit seemed satisfied that no one was around and picked up the TV. The bandit seemed to strain under the weight of the one hundred plus pounds and walked towards the patio doors. Rick waited until the bandit made his way to the patio stairs outside the doorway. Better for the bandit to drop the TV on the grass than the stairs or patio stones. As the bandit walked out of the house, Rick quietly climbed the stairs and started to move towards the patio doors. As he reached the door, Rick could see that the bandit had made it half way across the patio stones. Rick ran over to the phone in the corner of the room and picked up and dialled 911. Knowing that the call would be traced and police, fire and paramedics personnel would be dispatched, he dropped the handset on the couch and ran towards the doors. He could see the bandit struggling to reach the back gate. Rick ran out silently in bare feet across the wet patio stones. As he reached the wet grass, his bare foot slipped. Rick screamed as his knee twisted awkwardly under him using the broom handle to stop his fall completely . He quickly stood up and peered towards the bandit who was looking over his shoulder towards Rick. The bandit dropped the TV and started to run. Rick moved quickly to bridge the distance. The bandit moved past the gate and turned left towards the parking lot. Rick quickly narrowed the distance between them each step in agony. Moving his hands up the handle of the broom to grip it like a baseball bat, he came within two feet of the bandit. Reaching back and swinging as he closed the gap to about a foot, he swung with all of his might at the bandit's ankles. The handle caught the bandit just above the ankle causing the bandit's right foot to wrap around his left foot tripping him in the progress. As the bandit went down, Rick slipped down to both knees the pain searing right up into his groin as he slipped past the fallen bandit who was trying to get up. Rock stopped his slide and started to come up in one motion, a practiced drill from his hockey days. He was between the bandit and the cars in the visitor's parking. As the bandit started to get up, Rick noticed he was just a kid about the same age as his sixteen year old son. For a second, he felt a twinge of sorrow, but that dissipated quickly as the bandit reached inside of his coat. Rick's Tai Chi training returned after five years of dormancy, his left hand swung up from his left knee with the broom handle firmly grasped. The handle whacked the bandit's right hand and caused the still concealed object to drop to the wet grass. The shiny object fell between the bandit's legs as he grasped his left arm and screamed. This scream started to cause lights to go on throughout the complex courtyard. The bandit recovered enough to start towards the dropped object while holding his left arm. Rick took the proper step forward and swung the handle parallel towards the bandit's face. The handle caught the bandit across the left chin, snapping the handle in half. The bandit dropped like a sack of potatoes. Rick quickly moved forwards and drove his knee into the exposed back. There was no movement from the unconscious body. Rick looked around as neighbour's started to appear throughout the courtyard. Someone shone a flashlight in his eyes as the sirens from the local fire station screamed through the night. He shielded his eyes. “Turn that off”, he screamed. He realized that he had spoken for the first time. He also realized that the fire trucks had arrived in less than two minutes. Two minutes that he had chased the bandit, cornered him, fought him, knocked him unconscious and now it was over. He was in shock; he had fought a child, a child that had pulled a weapon on him. He was still on top of the bandit when he heard “Police, drop the weapon.” He realized that they were talking to him. He slowly raised his arms and dropped the sticks he was holding. Nervously he yelled back, “I just caught this guy robbing my place, he pulled a weapon on me, and somewhere near here is a weapon he dropped.” The police officer spoke to his partner who swung his flashlight nearby until he stopped. Pulling a pen out of his pocket, he picked up a small calibre gun by the ring under the trigger. “Put your hands behind your head.” Rick put both hands behind his head, just like in the movies. He felt a hand grasp his wrist firmly behind his head and put a cuff on it. It hurt as the police officer tightened the clasp. The other hand was grabbed and pulled down to the already clasped wrist and locked into the cuffs also. He was almost physically picked up by the armpit. As he was being led to the car, he heard his youngest son scream “Where are you going with my Dad?” Rick's wife screamed, “What is going on here. Why are you taking my husband away?” The other police officer turned to Rick's wife and said, “We have a man down and unconscious over there”, pointing to the bandit being attended to by a paramedic that had arrived a moment earlier, “and your husband was found holding two pieces of a tick and a gun nearby.” “My husband doesn't own a gun and our TV is lying in the middle of our backyard. Someone was probably robbing us and my husband caught him”, Rick's wife pleaded. “I'll look at your house, but for now your husband has to remain where he is.” Rick's wife looked over to see walking towards the police car as Rick looked over his shoulder. He yelled out, “Wendy, call John T. and tell him the Police have me.” He was then put into the back seat of the cruiser. The police officer closest to the bandit yelled to his partner, “Bob, take care of this one here. He may have been burglarizing the place over here. I'm going to check out the unit.” The police officer moved towards Rick's house as the second officer moved up to the bandit. The bandit was coming around. Other than a welt on his chin and his left arm being splintered, he looked okay. The police officer moved towards the paramedic, spoke softly to him, then took out his handcuffs. Another police car came onsite and two officers got out of their vehicle. In the back of the police cruiser, Rick reflected on what happened since he got out of bed and closed his eyes. What had he done? Had he gone too far? Was the kid okay? About twenty-five minutes later a small Chevy Chevette pulled up in front of the cruiser. The driver got out and walked up to one of the two officers who first reported to the scene. They talked for about five minutes while Rick eagerly looked on. Then the drive of the Chevette started to walk over to Rick's cruiser with the officer. The officer opened the rear door and started to help Rick out of the car and then began to remove the cuffs. “You were lucky Rick, that kid had a loaded .38 in his pocket. He might have shot you.” “I know John, I didn't think, I just reacted. If I had known he was carrying, I would have not chased him hit him with the handle.” “Not only are you lucky you weren't hurt, you could have been charged with assault with a weapon. We got the kid to give us all of the details of his little robbery spree. He'll get a reduced charge for it.” “I owe you John. I also learned that being a hero is not all it's cracked up to be. I have to live with breaking that kid's arm for the rest of my life. Next time I will call 911 and hide in my closet.” “Good idea Rick. Let us deal with the bad guys.” As John opened his car door, Rick said “Thanks again John, sorry to have to drag you out of bed for this. My apologies to Karen.” “No problem and take care of yourself.” Rick watched John's car drive away then started towards his own home. He saw the back light was on and the living room light was left on for him and silently thanked his wife for her thoughtfulness. “I guess I should think about what I could lose before I react next time.” Tweet
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