One Who Knows

    The office window blew out with the force of a hydrogen bomb.  The building rocked sending glass raining down onto law enforcement below.  Buildings on the block shook like palm trees in a tropical storm.  Police cruisers bounced up off the street while parked cars jostled sideways in their spots.  The ground shook violently tossing Markerson, Bromley, and Murtaugh into the middle of the street.  The rest of the officers grabbed onto whatever they could to steady themselves. 

    Markerson, Bromley, and Murtaugh picked themselves up just in time.  The loudest, crunching, nastiest thud vibrated through the sidewalk.  A figure came crashing down from above exploding the skull.  Brain matter, skull fragments, and blood colored the concrete .  The body lay in a crooked angle with the legs turned behind. 

      “Oh, what a bloody mess.”  Said Markerson staring at the pulpy blob. 

      “Markerson, you have another issue.”  Said Bromley reaching for Markerson’s neck. 

      “I don’t need a hug.”  Said Markerson pushing his hand away. 

      “I’m not trying to give you a hug.”  Said Bromley looking at her neck. 

      “Markerson, you need this.”  Said Murtaughhanding her a handkerchief. 

Markerson felt a warmth running down her neck.  She looked in the cruiser window seeing her

reflection.  A piece of the victim’s skull was embedded in her neck. 

        “That’s wonderful.”  Said Markerson as she yanked on the skull fragment.  The fragment slid out

without any issues.  She held the handkerchief to her neck wiping away blood then pinched the area. 

She had been told by her mother that you could coagulate blood this way. 

Emergency medical personnel were scurrying around checking on dazed officers.  More ambulances

continued to arrive taking officers with compound fractures away. 

          An EMT walked over to the three of them.  “Is everyone okay?” 

        “We’re fine.”  Said Markerson holding the handkerchief on her neck.

The EMT pulled Markerson’s hand away, and poured salve on her wound.  He placed a sterile gauze on it holding it in place with two strips of absorbent tape.  Markerson walked over to the victim laying on the ground.  The body was barely clothed due to the blast shredding the clothing.  Socks and shoes were gone, one pant leg was gone, the other pant leg was torn to pieces.  Part of the shirt was wrapped around the upper body like a sash.  Murtaugh took his camera phone out, and snapped pictures of the victim.  Murtaugh motioned to Markerson and Bromley to turn the victim over on his back.  The victim’s face made a sucking sound as Markerson lifted it off the bloody residue on the concrete.  Brain matter leaked onto her gloved hands,but that didn’t bother her.  She had dealt with a lot of residue from other

situations like this.  Bromley was caught up in the vacant stare of the victim’s eyes.  Murtaugh kept

snapping pictures.     

          “Not a pretty picture.”  Said Markerson sliding the shirt scrap away. 

Markerson, Bromley, and Murtaugh looked at each other.  The victim had nine knife wounds on his

chest.