THROUGH THE WIRE

“What did you do?”

Silas turned around to see Giggs, staring at Vance’s body. For a split second, Giggs eyes widened as the pool of blood reached Silas’ shoes.

“Ah great,” Silas said flicking his boot back and forth like a horse, sprinkling the blood in all directions. “Get someone to clean this up.”

Giggs did not move.

“What did you do?!” he repeated. This time his voice was a growl, like a lion testing his roar against the King of the wilderness.

“Huh?” Silas tapped me on the side. “What makes you think you can talk to me? Just do what I fucking tell you!”

Suddenly, the world outside became a symphony of blue and red lights. Through the grime of the window, we could them and hear the sirens. Within seconds, half a dozen cruisers formed a blockade. A large tactical van was parked sideways, sealing the road.

“Fuck!” Silas kicked Vance’s body. “Useless pig couldn’t even get the dates right.”

He hid beside the window, peering out to look at the number of police jumping out the vehicles with bulletproofs vest.

Click.

It was a sharp sound but we knew what it meant.

“Looks like the party’s starting early eh,” Silas smirked turning back.

“DROP THE WEAPON!”

"It’s you, isn’t it?" Silas hissed, the realization blooming in his eyes. "You're the rat."

“That’s right, Silas,” Giggs said, his voice calm. “And I just saw you murder a police officer. It’s over.”

Silas chuckled, which turned into a hysterical laugh.

“You know what’s funny?” he said. “All this time, I thought you were just another stray. Turns out you were a leash.”

Giggs’ finger rested straight along his trigger guard.

“Just put it down, Silas.”

Silas snorted. “Nah…. but feel free to put yours down.”

He aimed me toward Gigg’s whose jaw tightened.

Giggs didn’t blink.

Silas didn’t either.

“Last chance,” Giggs hissed.

“One of us is going to heaven, Giggs,” Silas roared. “And it ain’t gonna be me!”

I felt Silas’s finger contract.

Giggs couldn’t see it coming. He didn’t react fast enough, still married to the procedures of the police way of life.

In that microsecond, two shots rang out, one after the other.

Giggs fell to one knee, clutching his shoulder. He yelled and dove behind a stack of oil drums, his gun skittering across the floor. The other shot punched a hole above Silas’ head, kicking up a puff of drywall dust. But it was enough for the police outside to start firing.

Dink-dink-dink-dink.

The windowless room suddenly felt exposed but Silas was unfazed. As alive and focused as only he could be, dashed out of the room. He ran into the rest of G45 preparing.

"You!" Silas pointed to one of his men. "Hold the door! Everyone else, follow me! We're going out the rear!"

I felt the urgency in his movements as he sprinted. He kicked open a rusted back door that led to a narrow alleyway and a small, fenced parking lot.

There were two officers already waiting out back, guns drawn.

"Police! Drop it!"

Silas didn't slow down. He grabbed the two men who were running with him, pushing them in front of him like meat shields. The officers hesitated.

CRACK. CRACK.

Silas fired from behind the human shields. The shield on the left crumpled. The second man screamed, hit in the leg, but Silas shoved him into the officers, disrupting their aim.

Go! Go! Go!

We burst onto the deserted road behind the shop. A civilian’s sedan was stopped at a light. Silas used me to break through the front window, yanking the screaming driver out, tossing them onto the pavement.

Silas jumped behind the wheel, my heavy weight bouncing on his hip. He slammed the accelerator tearing through the intersection. The little sedan roared blurring the world into a tunnel of light and speed.

A traffic light turned red behind us as we clipped a parked delivery truck. The side mirror scattered reflections of blue and red across the asphalt. Sirens wailed in our wake, getting closer.

One behind us.

Then two.

Then many.

Silas laughed, a raw unhinged sound slamming the wheel with his palm as he fishtailed into the next street. Tires screamed. The car bucked like it wanted to die.

“Come on,” he chuckled. “Come on, you fucks.....keep up.”

The first cruiser opened fire.

Pop-pop-pop.

Rounds shattered the rear windshield, spraying tempered glass across the backseat like rain. One slug punched through the trunk, rattling the spare tire. Another grazed the roof, leaving a molten scar that hissed as night air rushed in.

Silas ducked instinctively—but never slowed.

He leaned out the window and raised me.

The wind screamed past my slide. I felt the heat rising in my barrel, a fever that wouldn't break.

Crack crack

The recoil shoved back against Silas’ wrist as a cruiser swerved violently, clipping a hydrant in a geyser of white water. another car slammed into it, metal folding like paper.

Silas howled in delight

Traffic blurred into streaks of red and white as we hit the arterial road leading to the river. The bridge loomed ahead and so did the barricade ahead.

“Not today pigs!” Silas snarled.

He rammed through a half-closed spike strip. Tires burst with a deafening bang, rubber flapping wildly, sparks screaming as rims bit into asphalt. The car slewed sideways, grinding, fighting. The bridge swallowed us.

Wind howled louder here, ripping through the open windows, carrying the stench of salt and oil. Officers leaned out of cruisers, firing in controlled bursts. Rounds kissed the guardrails. One punched through the passenger door grazing Silas’ ribs.

He grinned bracing me on the window frame.

A cruiser rammed our rear bumper slamming us into the guardrail halfway across the bridge. The sedan’s front end crumpled. Airbags detonated in a deafening whump, filling the cabin with smoke.

The engine screamed in protest as Silas attempted to start it. Silas coughed once, then laughed again as he kicked the door open. He stumbled out, bleeding now but still holding me. The cruiser behind was in flames with bodies at the sides.

Silence rushed in broken only by the groan of tires stopping ahead. Silas removed my magazine and checked the remaining bullets.

“Just one huh,” he whispered. “my lucky day.”

“Bridge is a dead end,” a voice barked through a megaphone. “DROP THE WEAPON!”

The officers knelt beneath the doors of their vehicles, aiming their guns at us. Even at this distance, I could see one of them clearly.

“Move, move!” Giggs shouted, shoving past two officers. His badge flashed once as he grabbed the megaphone from the earlier officer.

“Silas!”

Silas tilted his head, curious.

“This is Detective Giggs with the Metro District Police!” Giggs forced his breathing into something steady, something practiced. “You are surrounded. Put the weapon down and walk toward the sound of my voice.”

Silas laughed loudly.

“It’s over!” Giggs continued, louder now. “You don’t have an exit. Nobody else has to die tonight.”

"Back off Pig!" he shrieked. "I already told you…only one of us gets to live today!"

I felt Silas grip me tighter then took a deep breathe. He looked at me. His thumb tracing my serial number.

“You ready, partner?” he whispered. His pulse was a frantic drumbeat against his wrist.

Silas stood up and started walking toward Giggs.

“Okay,” Silas said, raising his empty hand first.
“I surrender.”

Giggs didn’t answer.

Rain began to fall then —thin needles tapping against the bridge, against metal, against me. Silas kept walking across the wet concrete. Each step measured.

“I said I surrender,” he repeated, louder, letting the word stretch. He lifted his other hand halfway, palm out. Not high enough. His grip still firm.

“Stop,” Giggs said. “That’s far enough.”

Silas smiled.

He made a sharp fast movement. So fast in fact that the officers did not react. All except one

Giggs dropped the megaphone. It clattered across the asphalt, skidding to stop at the puddle forming below.

Two shots rang out so close together they collapsed into one sound.

I looked at Giggs who had held his stance, breathing normally. I felt a sharp jolt vibrating from Silas’ body.

That’s when I knew, I had failed.

Silas staggered backward, the momentum pushing him toward the edge. His heels hit the base of the railing and his fingers loosened. I slipped from his grip just as his center of gravity betrayed him. We fell together but landed separately.

The wind whistled through my trigger guard—a cold, rushing sound that drowned out the sirens and the shouting from the bridge above. I saw the dark, churning surface of the river rising to meet me, blacker than the bluing on my steel.

Splash