Death Rides At Midnight

Dan Johnson’s neck and shoulders ached.  He leaned back in his swivel-tilter chair and pushed away from his desk.  With his arms above his head he stretched the tightness out of his upper torso.  It was 10:30 PM and he had put in a long day.  He was alone in his waterslide park office, except for Shadow, his black Labrador retriever who was curled up behind one of the file cabinets in the corner.  Dan had just finished tallying the days receipts and readied them for the next mornings deposit.  It was time to lock up and head home.

POW!  POW! His large office window imploded with a thunderous crash.  Jet-propelled slivers of glass flew through the air like shrapnel from a hand grenade.  Dan dove under his desk and cowered there, trying to comprehend what had just happened.  He felt warm liquid streaming from his right cheek.  When he put his hand to his cheek he saw red blood on his fingers.  He had been cut by the airborne shards.   Shadow, whimpering loudly, pushed his way under the desk and filled the cramped quarters.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dan slowly peeked over the edge of his glass-strewn desk and looked out into the moonless, pitch-black night.  He saw nothing.  The rifle shot hadn’t even awakened his resident security guard, Walker Reed, who was sleeping in his camper shell only thirty yards away.  Lights flickered on in a few of the fifty or so recreational vehicles that were staying overnight and were parked just beyond Walker’s camper shell.

At that late hour his office lights had stood out like a beacon on a lighthouse.  Somebody was shooting at him.  He was vulnerable.  He pushed Shadow off of his lap and reached for the phone.  Quickly he dialed 911.  After he hung up, he ran out of his office, through the secretary’s office and exited his building through the grocery store.  He pounded loudly on Walker’s camper shell.

“Walker, Walker, wake up; somebody’s shooting at us.”

The camper door was pushed open and Dan’s diminutive security guard staggered out, wearing only a T-shirt.

“What’s going on, Boss?” Walker said as he quickly rubbed his eyes.

Dan related what had happened.  He told Walker to get some pants on, get a flashlight and go look around above the RV park for anything suspicious.  Just then, two  police cars rounded the corner and entered the park with their blue, red and yellow lights flashing silently.  They pulled up next to Dan who was crouched behind Walker’s camper shell, across the road from his office building.  One police car was black and white and the other was brown and white.

“Somebody just shot at me in my office,” Dan yelled as he pointed to the shattered glass window across the road.

The two officers, one from the Ogden County Sheriffs Department and the other from the Chelsea City Police Department, met Dan in the middle of the road.  Dan pointed up behind the RV park.