Microstory 215: Okay, Phone

Jan Albani was being sexually assaulted. The stranger in the zorro mask cliché held her down by her wrists. Miniscule holes in the kitchen tile grout took hold of her hair as she threshed around, trying to get free. He jammed his knuckles into her side, causing her to twist away on reflex. Her knee flew up and knocked his leg off balance, dropping him down on top of her. Jan called upon all of her might and pushed him to the side, slamming her palm into his nose before rushing into the other room. She reached for her phone on the nightstand, leaving a smear of his blood behind, but the broken nose wasn’t stopping him. He tackled her as she was trying to input her passcode. When she was fell to the carpet, her phone bounced under the bed. “Okay phone,” she tried to call out, “call nine-one-one!” The voice activated assistant dinged onto the screen and informed her that it was contacting emergency services. The man laughed and hung up her phone before sending it smashing against the wall. Jan continued to struggle against him, searching desperately for another opening to incapacitate the stranger and get away. “No!” she screamed repeatedly, pleading for him to spare her. But he just continued to laugh. They began to hear a noise from his chest. It sounded like a voice, but it was very faint. He continued to hold her down, but sat up to take a look at his phone. The screen shown into his beautiful green eyes. Jan couldn’t help but notice that they looked very kind, and that she might find him attractive under normal circumstances. Come to think of it, they were actually quite familiar, as was his jawline. She could not remember his name, but she had several times rejected his advances at work when she was handing out the mail on his floor.

“Mona? Hello?” he asked into the phone. When Jan had tried to call the police from her phone, it had also activated his artificial assistant, and called one of his contacts automatically. “Honey?” That was his mistake. He should have dropped the call immediately.

Jan cried out, “help! He’s hurting me!” Her attacker had run all the way out of the house in fear before she had the chance to sit up and catch her breath.

Microstory 32: The Cop

There was a cop that I used to see, sitting in various speed traps, while I was out on my walks; the only exercise I would ever get.  We would speak for a few moments each time. I learned that he’d been on the job for the better part of a decade, had a son from a one-night stand, and was planning on proposing to his boyfriend. One day, I decided to walk straight east, towards Stateline, through a not-so-great neighborhood. Up ahead, I could see Officer Pender. Instead of sitting in his car, he was standing on the corner with his radar gun. I waved up to him, and as he smiled and waved back, I heard a pop from the left. Pender twisted a little from the force, but remained upright. A series of crackling noises followed; an automatic weapon sending him to the ground. A car screeched away and disappeared behind the hedges. I ran to Pender and reached out to him on instinct. It was obvious that many of the bullets landed in his vest, but there was still blood. At least a couple of them made contact. He was coughing and struggling to recover, and I tried to put pressure on the wounds but there were too many. I heard shuffling behind me. “Back away,” a man said. “This doesn’t involve you.” I could practically feel the gun pointed at my back while he continued to walk closer. I looked down to Officer Pender’s face. He was admiring the clouds sliding across the sky. He was losing too much blood, and the life was draining from him. I could only think that if I ran, he would die, and if I tried to talk the attacker down, I would be wasting precious time. The threat needed to be eliminated. Pender’s eyes darted over and met mine, as if he had heard my last thought. There was no time to argue. I pulled out his sidearm, spun around, and shot the attacker. He was close enough that it landed in his face. It was the first time I had fired a weapon, but it wasn’t my last. A year later, Officer Pender and I became partners.