Monday, June 25, 2007

Narcotic Nailing Nick

The following post contains graphic material. Viewer discretion is advised.

It was a day like any other day, or so it seemed. Nick sat in his Police car, sweltering in the Vegas heat. The cool air, blowing from the car vents, hit his face but they did nothing for the sweat trickling down his back. He glanced at the clock hoping it was as late in the day as it felt. His heart rose a little, 3:30pm, only thirty minutes longer in the insufferable heat, he could last that long. The computer beeped as the information he requested came back. His eyes scanned the screen as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. A long list of warrants in front of him could make him think of nothing but a long list of paper work. He looked through the windshield, glancing at the suspect; the heat reflecting off the hood made him distorted somehow, almost as if he was transforming into his true villain form. Their eyes met and Nick could see the panic, and the tension behind the dark brown eyes. The words that can pass between eyes in a momentary glance, can never be explained. As Nick looked away, certain this man knew his fate, he stepped out of the car, mentally preparing himself for the mountain of paper work that lay ahead. As soon as his door opened, the rush of hot air assaulted his face. His eyes closed for a second, fighting the hot stinging, caused by the heat. When his eyes opened the front of his car was barren. A color bouncing out of the corner of his eye brought his attention to the fleeing suspect. The waves of heat rolling across the road moved the suspect further away with ease. The sun beating down on him, the static of his radio, the waves of heat rolling across the road faded as the sound of his heart began to pound with the rush of adrenaline streaming through his blood. Like the shot of a gun, his feet were moving beneath him before the thought had fully made its round trip. The suspect who had looked like a miniature doll only seconds before was becoming bigger and bigger with each footstep. 15 yards flew by in a blur of color. Nick reached out his hand, his fingers touching the cotton shirt that clung to the suspect as he clung to the hope of freedom. Nick’s grip tightened and his step slowed, the suspect’s feet kept running but his body didn’t follow. The hot asphalt that had been sticking to the bottom of their shoes now sizzled against their skin as they struggled, one for freedom and one for justice. The pounding of Nick’s heart was deafening in his ears, the smell of tar stung his nose and his muscles quivered as he held the suspect down. A concerned citizen was by his side, easing the strain of the battle. The lock of the handcuffs sounded as reassuring as the slam of a cell door. The question swimming in Nick’s mind did not take long to answer. A quarter pound of cocaine, with or without a long list of warrants would have made anyone run. As Nick put the suspect in the back of his car and slid into his own seat, he glanced at the clock, 4:00pm. If the man had stayed put, Nick would be on his way to the station and soon on his way home. He thought of his wife and his hand unconsciously grabbed his phone and dialed her number.
“Hello? Babe? I’m going to be a little late. You’ll never believe what happened to me……….”


Mortensen Family said...


I would've LOVED to see that! :)

The Castle Carrage said...

Great reenactment!!! I hear there was a high speed chase today? Hope to hear all about it!!! :)

Moki said...

See! Thats why I didn't want Arthur to be a cop! I mean the danger, the drama, Nick's lucky to be alive! We love you!

Hilton Herd said...

Good reenactment, I like this blog thing. I am just copying you and your family's blog thats how I get all my ideas. Haha.