Always On Guard (In Progress)

[REMEMBER, this is a work in progress]

THE BEGINNING: How It Started… (And some background thoughts)……
         When you look for a job, you typically look for recommendations. And following the cliché, that's exactly what I did. I met my fiancée's friend and one of our many campus lounges and he told me about a security company.
         I picked up my application on a Thursday. I interned it enough following afternoon. I was interviewed on the spot.
         I'm back this morning, one day later, for reasons unknown to me. I've heard of this company maybe once before and now I'm sitting in their parking lot, waiting until 9 AM for the company to open…
         I've grabbed a mocha latte; I guess is supposed to be a form of coffee, and I remember I'm not crazy for Starbucks or their cookies. I've been asked, multiple times, if I'm honest stakeout for something. I tell them now, but in reality, I'm not sure exactly how to answer that question.
It's been just over half an hour and I've seen many go into this building, but only five or six have come back out. I'm sitting in my 1999 Mercury Cougar, with the engine running and the air conditioning on full blast. (It's a little toasty outside).
Well, it's 8:55 AM and I believe that they are open, and if not, they will be when I get up there.

THE “INVESTIGTION”: . . . . The Situation That Put Me in the Situation . . .
         Well, I found out it was for orientation.
         Well, I left for lunch and I was gone maybe five minutes, I returned just in time to hear gunfire. I'm sitting in my car and then I see two men run out of the building; both wearing black jeans, black sweatshirts, black gloves, black boots, black socks (or at least so I think), and other stereotypical "bank-robber" gear. But in place of the weapons, the men both had to ten millimeters Glock 20 pistols. I could see every detail clear as day. I dug down for the floorboard of my car, I hear car doors slam shut, and then I peer over my dash. The car appears to be a Chevy Monte Carlo. My first instincts are to run, but I fight it. The one thing I know about my life is when I have instincts about school problems, go with them. But if it's something like this, I have to fight it and do what I know in my heart is right. I follow the car at what I believe is a safe distance. I follow this Monte Carlo for a long length of time, but that is when I notice that the vehicle has no emblems or license plate. I mean, it's plainly obvious that the car is a Monte Carlo, but there's still some doubt in my mind for reasons beyond what I can explain.
         I called the office while I simultaneously figure out what I believe is a safe distance…
         The office answering machine clicks on… Dang, no answer!
         I continue to follow this car at the "safe" distance. They appear not to even see me or even seemed to look back at all for a matter of fact. So, I get to feeling a little nervous because of them not noticing this red car following them.
         A few minutes after what seemed to be in a tackle my office building and after I had started following them, I decided just to do the smart thing and called 9-1-1. So I do. The dispatcher picks up.
         "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" She asks.
         "Hello, I would like to remain anonymous, but I've witnessed to suspicious suspects come out of the building with two guns, each. I heard multiple gunshots. The location is 1350 W. 15th Ave. I believe that there are many deaths or injuries. I'm following the suspects right now and it looks as if we are heading so warehouse district. I believe it is Riverside Parkway." While I am driving, I wait for the dispatcher to respond.
         "So, 1350 W. 15th Ave. has undergone some sort of attack, and you're trying to be a hero and following the suspects around the Riverside Parkway area…?"
         Yes, ma'am. Do you want me to stay on the line and let you know which warehouse they go into or what?"
         The dispatcher seems to ponder a moment. "I can't be certain that you're telling me the truth; I let you give us a call back when you arrive?"
         "That sounds okay. I will. Thank you for all your help. I'll call back momentarily." The dispatcher hangs up.
         I continue to follow the car and they go into the Riverside Parkway warehouse district.
         Once they arrive at the warehouse, I decide not to follow directly. I pull into a parking lot that sits across the main road. I'm trying to make it seem like I'm going to work. It looks like they buy. The guys go into the building.
         I called 9-1-1 again. The same dispatcher picks up, "9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
         "Yes, I called about 5 min. ago about the potential murderers and all at 1350 W. 15th Ave. I'm calling to say that we have arrived at 4555 Riverside Parkway. The suspects have already headed into the warehouse."
         "Okay, thank you sir, we will have the police on the way shortly." The dispatcher hangs up abruptly.
         The warehouse that the amendment arrives and went into looks like it was about just about to finish construction on the exterior. It seems as if the grass hasn't been put in or hasn't grown in. This warehouse probably hasn't even had its exterior up for more than five months.
         Within 5 min. of hanging up the phone, police arrive with the sirens off. They pull up slowly in and get out of their vehicles me their doors ajar, and then they take cover behind their doors like it would actually work to their benefit. The police are surrounding the building with the lease to cruisers at each emergency door and covered all around the building because of the dock doors.
         After a few moments of a swarm of police officers swarming around the building, I hear one of the officers calling for a blow horn, "we have the place surrounded. Come out or we will come in!" After a few more moments, I hear the same officer say more, "guys, this ain't worth dying for! We will come in and get you!"
         Within two more minutes, the SWAT team arrives. The SWAT team storms into the warehouse. I hear gunfire. The gunfire goes on for at least thirty seconds seems like an eternity.
         Silence. There are no sounds coming from around the warehouse or within the warehouse. After three minutes silence, someone comes out of the building. It looks like one of the SWAT team members with a gun next to his head?
         "Drop your weapons, you… You, idiots!" Obviously one of the guys I followed. "I don't know how you found us, but we've dropped lawyer men there. This is the last one you have a life. Drop your weapons or he'll drop to!"
         All of the police just look to the two men standing in the doorway. A loud shot-like sound is heard. Then the hostage taker falls to the ground. The hostage officer turns and kicks the gun away from the body. "Check the body!" Another officer yells the hostage officer then bends down and checks the lottery. Hostage officer then gets up and walks away after finding nothing. As the police start to get an action plan together for going into the warehouse, a sound that sounds like a hiss starts to sound. It starts "HISS…HISS…HISS…HISS…HISS…"
         The next thing I hear is a loud noise and sound like an explosion. As my attention is directed to the roof of the building, I see a large section of the refill be 75 feet above the top of the building.
         After that explosion, I see two members of the SWAT team drag themselves out obviously winded and not dad. After these to come out, there is another explosion; this time seems to be twice as violent. The police are blown back about twenty feet. I don't see anyone moving after that. I see bodies of the officers sprawled out in the distance and I am unable to see what happens next.
         After that, I make yet another call to 9-1-1.
         This time, a different dispatcher picks up. "9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
         "Yes, I've called twice before but suspicious people making a supposed murder scene at 1350 W. 15th Ave. I've followed these guys to the Riverside Parkway warehouse district and it seems as if all the police officers and SWAT team members have been murdered, or at least injured and not moving. Is there anyone else you can send out?"
         "Sir, we have sent out all of the officers over to the Riverside Parkway area. And the rest of the SWAT team and bomb squad are on their way."
         The dispatcher hangs up.
         The bomb squad arrives, and a storm into the building as well. I hear multiple explosions, not quite as powerful as before, and the bomb squad rushes out. I presume it's flash grenades, but I don't know.
         Then, there is a colossal flash before my eyes, and the next thing I know……

         I'm in a hospital room, without any of my close or any of my original possessions.
         A storm of people rush into my room as soon as I awake. News and other media, friends, and family, they'll show. I then pass out an amount for hours on end… If not days…

THE MAIN SUSPECT: A Blast from the Past….Or at least…. My Past….
        I wake up, and I just never heard it has been three and a half months…
        I look around and see that the room is completely empty except for one person. This one person is wearing a black three-button suit with a black derby. The person is standing by the door leaning against the wall with the derby cap covering their face, flipping a coin. I don't think I know who it is, but as of now because of the trouble I got myself into, I can't be certain.
        The person sees that I have awakened. "Hello Patrick. Remember me?" His voice is deep and raspy.
        I look toward him. "Um… Have we met?" He stares at me and it feels as if he is seen through me to my soul…
        "Come on, Patrick, we met, two-and-a-half years ago today. I lost all control of my small Nissan Hard-body pickup and I T-bones you in your 1999 Jeep Wrangler." He continues to stare through me to my soul; at this point is starting to feel weird in the room.
        "Oh, William McAllister, it's you… What do you want with me now?" I looked back toward him. I can see that he has something disastrous planned. (If you were here, you'd be able to see the sparkle in his eyes as well.)
        "Yes, now you remember, don't you? I told you I was going to get you for calling the police and getting all of them involved: the police, paramedics, fire department, and let's not forget the insurance companies. I try to make a really unbeatable deal with you. You remember the four brand spanking new Jeep Wranglers one after another? But no, you went ahead pressed charges and sued me for everything I had. And I'm sure as you remember, you won…"
        "Yes, but I was also in the hospital for three weeks because of you… And now look, I bet this is because of you again, isn't it?" I looked him up and down. "Just tilt your head back so your face is exposed and stopped hiding like the coward you are!"
Williams looks around a bit and tilts his head back and then gets up and a major rush becomes up toward my bed. He then pulls out a syringe. "You know, Patrick, I could answer this arsenic into your IV bag…"
        An alarm sounds in the hallway, a voice over the loudspeaker announces a code blue elsewhere on my floor. William looks out toward the hallway, obviously to make sure nobody else comes in. But when he looks into the hallway, he hides the syringe well enough that a passerby would not be able to see it.
        While he's looking into the hallway, I push the call light for the nurse multiple times hoping to signal that there is danger in the room; once the lights on it's on, until they come in, so my multiple pushes didn't do anything…
        A nurse comes in rather quickly to both of our surprise. "You rang?" She spots something, probably a part of the syringe, and she takes one step out of the room signaling for security and the police. To everybody's astonishment, security is there within thirty seconds and the police arrive within minutes. (I think it's safe to say that we all wonder how the police and the security forces got there so soon…)
        Security comes in and the officers look around not seeing any obvious signs of danger, "what's going on in here?" The security officer looks around further.
        It seems as if William is now starting to get jumpy and he pulls the syringe out and makes a leap for my IV bag. The security officer that spoke somehow pulls a ninja like move and is able not the syringe out of his hands before puncturing the bag and the syringe and William land at the same time many feet apart. At this point the police finally arrive and see the security officer with his knee in the back of William and then sees them laying a few feet apart.
        The officer and William both stand up and almost immediately the police officers but William into cuffs. At this point, William is looking back at me again, with sheer hatred in his eyes and in his facial expression. "Well, well, well. Patrick, it looks as if you've got another win over me: two for you and zilch for me. Bravo!"
        I seem to wake up from a sub-conscious state-of-mind, realizing that I just witnessed the modified memory that I never experienced.
        I felt somewhat relieved… Yet, I didn't know what to think. It was William, but something was off… Almost as if it wasn't him at all, but somebody else…
        But anyway, I need to let you know what happens next, which is at my school, and this event you would never see coming…

THE MASSACRE ON CAMPUS: The Opportunity of a Life-time
         Now, if I remember right, I did forget to mention that I am a student…
         I was in my introduction to psychology class and I was learning about cognitive theories… BORING!… I'm not even going to tell you what it is, only because I don't fall asleep telling you. As I say here, I become bored out of my mind… Class is almost out… I don't know what to do…
         I am sitting in the front row of the classroom, taking notes.
         Now, I only wish something interesting would happen.
         I sit here wondering what I will do when I get home.
         I wonder why I'm required to take this class… It seems to go on for-freaking-ever!
         I wonder what I am supposed to do; when out in the hall I hear a loud bang; although, it sounds more like a boom with echo-filling hallways.
         "OH MY GOSH! What the heck was that?!" Someone on the other side of the room yells.
         As I sit here thinking what could possibly be, I quickly think to myself, Why is that when I want something to happen, it seems to happen?
         Everyone in the room seems to head for the door. As far as I know, no one knows where the sound came from. I sit here at my table in the front of the room and pack up my stuff. I refuse to leave this room without my stuff.
         Once I'm all packed up, I go to the door with my back. Once a met the door, I forced my way to the front of the crowd and I get a glimpse of what made the sound.
         Everyone is standing behind me, dumbstruck, because they cannot find what has caused the sound. But I tell you what, I don't understand how something like this could happen on school grounds.
         All I see is an attractive female body lying on the ground in a fast-growing pool of blood. And I do not mean that Hollywood crap blood that is really light in color and looks more like fire engine paint than it does blood. I'm talking the dark stuff, the real stuff. It appears that someone shot this poor girl point-blank in between the eyes, aiming up into the brain.
         This is disgusting… How could this happen on a school campus? Why would someone do this? How could someone bring themselves to do this to another human being, in the prime of their life? How could this happen, in general?
         I pull my cell phone out and called 9-1-1, immediately followed by campus police. I don't know what else to do. Hopefully they can catch the suspects.
         Wait, I just heard something… It sounds like someone cocking a gun?
         Oh, geez. What's next?
         I look down the hallway toward the opposite stairwell, I see someone. I can make out a shiny thing at their side that looks like a gun, held in their hand. Aw, now what?
         I look to the teacher and I whisper, "get everyone back in the classroom and get a hold of the police, again, now!"
         I then drop my bag and pulled down the hallway toward the suspects. The suspect turns away and runs. I give not knowing what else to do. As he takes two steps at a time, I jump over the railing, getting myself in front of him. Startled, he raises the gun loosely in his hand. And with one swift flick of my wrist I could knock it from his grip. But realizing that time is of the essence, I lead for the suspect and catch him in a midriff tackle, knocking the gun from his grip simultaneously. I managed to flip him onto his stomach and holds arms behind his back and his head to the side with all of my weight. I managed to hold them for a few moments when I think someone else with more strength comes down the stairs…
         I turn my head to see who came to my aid and is either there is anyone there. Curious, I look back to the suspects. "What the frack is your problem? Are you mental or something?!" I turned my head to the top of the stairs, yelling, "will someone please call the fracking, police?!" I turned back to the suspects. "What? You too good to answer me?"
         Someone comes to the top of the stairs and I see that they're on the phone. "… Yes, one of my classmates is holding them down in the west stairwell of the Nestor Development Center on campus…" She doesn't say another word. I see someone behind her. I see my classmates start to tip over just ever so slightly, and then she just falls to the side. I can see that she was guided by the person behind her. My classmate lands on her side and then somehow ends up lying on her stomach. I can see what looks like a six-inch hunters' blade sticking out of her back. She is so pretty, I hope they're able to save her.
         The guy that was standing behind my classmate comes into focus. He is wearing a ski mask. "Wha' da crap are ya doin'? He's shulda made'a clean getaways!" The guy continues to look at me. Then I feel relief inch its way up my throat and out my mouth and nose in the form of a sneeze on the guy that I'm holding down. Don't ask me what kind of relief it was, but I did feel better. I looked back up at the guy at the top of the stairs and I see someone come up behind him.
         A gun is put against the guys head. "Drop to your knees and put your hands behind your head!" Another guy comes around the corner of the entrance to the stairwell and cuffs the guy with a gun to his head. A third officer comes in and handcuffs the person that I've been holding down. They are both pulled their feet.
         "Boy," the officer looks to me, "what's your name and who trained you?"
         "I'm Patrick, Patrick McGates, and I've never had any training of any sort, except academically." I looked around not knowing if I'm on a show or what not.
         "Patrick, I'm going to need you to come downtown with us to file a report and I think you might want to put in an application while you're at it as well." The officer then bows his head and the three officers take the guys to the waiting cruisers. Paramedics rush up the stairwell for my classmate that got stabbed. She is moved out within a matter of moments.
         "Well, then." I go back up the stairs avoiding the blood pool. Once I reached the peak of the stairs I receive an abundance of applause.
         I jump back startled. "What the-? What?"
         Everyone looks to me. I look back. Everyone steps aside and lets me pass by while continuing the applause. I go back to her the first body lies. Finally, my classmates realize what has happened.
         "Any other bodies?" Asked one of the paramedics.
         "No, another team of paramedics have already picked her up." I look around and shake my head. "Now if you'll all excuse me, I need you to sit down and try to clear my head." I start walking back toward the classroom.
         You know what, I thought I was supposed to be a student,… Not a life-saver… Though they do taste good.
         The crime scene investigators arrive after a few moments, they survey the scene, and evacuate the hall so they have all access.
         On my way down the stairs I look out the window. I see the perpetrators being loaded into the cop cars. The masts have been removed and I can see a look of disgust and hatred from both guys looking directly at me as if they know where I'm at.
         I get a phone call out of nowhere. "This is Patrick McGates. Who is this?"
         "Mr. McGates, this is Thomas H. Skeeter, from the New York Times. I'd like to set-up an interview with you about today's festivities. When would you be available?" I roll my eyes.
         "Mr. Skeeter, I'm not willing to talk about his festivities until I talked to the police." I hang up on Mr. Skeeter.

THE NEW BEGINNING: The New Patrick McGates
         Once I am outside, the chief of police for the city approaches me.
         "If you can pass all the tests and get to the Academy, would you like to join the police department?" The chief looks at me and sticks his hand out as to shake my hand.
         I stay where I am completely dumbfounded. My jaw drops open. "Well, sir," I shake his hand, "I would love to, but I think being on the campus security force would allow better hours to work around my classes… But maybe once I'm done if the offer still stands I would like to join then."
         The head of campus security approaches me and offers me a position because of what I did. "Patrick, I'm very impressed with what you did and with how brave you are. I would like to offer you a position on the security team…"
         "That sounds good sir, but I would like to go through the entire interview process and application as well." I shake his hand.
         "I'm very pleased to hear that Patrick. Mimi at the public safety office tomorrow about 0830 hours and we will get the process started." He nods and then walks away.
         It seems as if my entire class is outside waiting for me to finish with the officers.
         "Were you" this?
         "Were you" that?
         It's nonstop. However, there is one question that caught my ear.
         "Patrick, will brave guy like you like to call me his girlfriend?"
         I look in the direction of the person that asks. "Mackenzie?? Did you… Just-" I trail off.
         "Yes, Patrick, I did just ask you out. I want a man like you. I've never seen someone, trained or untrained take down an armed criminal before." She steps closer to me. She slips a folded piece of paper in one of my butt pockets of my jeans. She seems to let her hand hang out my pocket a little longer than just putting a piece of paper in it.
         Thoughts, run rampant: this is crazy. I've been wanting to ask this girl out for a few weeks now, give or take, but I don't know her that well. How could it possibly last? Oh, wait, after a few seconds, an epiphany; this could be the perfect time to get to know her. I better jump on this opportunity. Not many guys like me get this chance.
         "Were you scared Patrick?" One of my classmates asks.
         "How could I not be? I'm unarmed."
         Questions. It will be way too soon till I hear another one.
         On my way home, I decide to get something to eat at McDonald's. I get a small fry.
         "Perfect. Nice, fresh, delicious. And perfectly filling for an unhealthy snack." I mumble to myself.
         I get back on the road and head for home. I hear sirens going and I decide to follow the sirens give me a little distraction.
         Just my luck… The sirens take my right to my house. It's on fire…
         I stop my car. I get out. "Excuse me," I looked to the person in charge, "was anybody inside that you know of?!"
         "Son, I need you to get off the scene. We have evidence pointing toward arson already." The Fire Chief then pushes me back to my car.
         "But sir, that's my house. I believe that my parents are in there!" My eyes start to tear up and crackling develops in my voice. "Please, do you know of anyone being inside?" My eyes are like a water fountain, pumping water through like there's no tomorrow. "Please," the Fire Chief pushes me into my car, "Sir?! I need to know! Where are my parents?!" He looks at me with a very stern face.
         "Son, we haven't heard anything from inside. We haven't seen anyone run out. Now please, let me do my job." He walks away from me. I start in a full-fledged blubber fit. I start gasping for air, losing my sight, and having stuff run out my nose.
         I close my door and sit in my car. I dial my mom's cell phone number. No answer. I dial is my dad's number. No answer. I hear myself get louder.
         I leave a very hard to understand was no on both of their phones to call me as soon as they get the messages. I tell them that I love them and I hang up the phone.
         I continue sitting in my vehicle, in shock and crying like I've never cried before…
         I continue staring at the raging inferno, when my eyes allow me to see, not knowing what to do or what to think. I cry, cry, and cry.
         "Oh, my gosh! How could this happen? I don't know what to do." Just then, Mackenzie comes up and knocks on the window.
         I rolled my window down and let her talk as I continue to stare the inferno, indifferent to her presence. "Patrick? What happened?"
         I get out of my car and pull her into a hug. "Sweetie, they believe someone, parents house on fire. And I can get a hold of my parents." Tears fill my eyes; the air gets harder to breathe; as I prepare for round three or four, I lost count…
         "Patrick?" She pulls me tighter. "It'll be fine. They'll be fine." She kisses me on my cheek.
         "Sweetie, I think you are to know the truth." I fall down on to the solid earth and watch the fire, not knowing what else I can possibly do.

THE ARSON: The Person That I Thought I Escaped
         As I sit watching the home that I've known for almost fourteen years per into a pile of ash, I think of who could possibly do this. I sit. I think. I sit. I think. Still not knowing who could've caught my parents' home on fire.
         Just then, the house collapses. A completely caves in on itself. Where there once was a beautiful, underappreciated house with blue shutters and tan siding and a teal roof, now stands a pile of rubbish and ash with smoldering flame.
         A whiff of something catches the attention of my nose. I smell something. It's hard to describe how it smells, but ironically I know exactly what it is. I smell burning flesh. And then I see it. I see three hands and a foot on the side of the house.
         Whoever wanted my parents bed, or me dead, made sure that whoever was in the house died. I don't know how it was accomplished, but it happened.
         I know my parents are dead. "No!!" I stand up and start running toward the pile of rubbish. After my feet hit the pavement for the ninth time, I fall to the ground, crying, sobbing, wailing.
         The smell of burning and rotting flesh fix my senses again. I still don't know what to do. I just rock back and forth, crying. I don't know what to do or think.
         Just then, one of the many police officers comes up to me. "Excuse me sir? Do you know who lives here?"
         "Y-y-y-yes. I do. I believe my parents are inside that pile." Tears invade my eyes again and a crackling nearly consumes my voice. "Is there any way to verify if they were or-" I start crying heavily enough that my speaking is not understandable.
         "Sir, I don't know if they were planted, but we did see a total of three hands and a foot on the perimeter of the house." The officer shudders at the thought of this and gags at the smell.
         "Just tell me, who did this? I'll make sure they have their day! WHO DID THIS?!" Just then, Mackenzie pulls me back. She holds me back from attacking a police officer.
         "Patrick! Settle down! The bloody investigation isn't over, it's barely begun!" She kisses me on the lips hoping that settles me down… Let me tell you, man she's good.
         "Patrick, is it? Let me tell you something, if you ever try coming out an officer like that again, this murder and arson will be the least of your worries." And the cops storms off, temper close the flaring.
         "Mackenzie, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to lose my temper, but I'm sure you understand with the circumstances." I shake my head, pulling her close. "I don't know how this is going to work for the beginning of our relationship, but I hope you can help me pull out of this depression, in time." I shake my head again. "I don't know where I'm going to go. I don't know what I'm going to do. I have little saved because of the investments into my schooling and my car. And I don't make enough to have my own place."
         "Pat, your parents had insurance on everything, didn't they?" She pulls me closer yet again. "Life insurance, health insurance, home insurance? Everything?"
         "To the best of my knowledge they do. But I don't know how to get a hold of any of them." I sit back down on the hood of my car and lean up against the windshield. Mackenzie joins me and cuddles up close to me.
         We overhear one of the firefighters say that the fire is out.
         "Pat, we will figure out how to get a hold of them together. But assuming it is as it's supposed to be, your specific everything unless you have other siblings. You should be getting enough to own your own house and then have their life insurance to do their funerals together then you might be able to get your car fixed up better after that. You should be fine as soon as we get all of the companies. I'm sure your parents would want you to move on as quickly as you could while properly mourning."
         I nod and pull her close. "I'm pretty sure I can get through this as long as I have you with me." I kissed her forehead. Tears start streaming from my eyes again.
         From out of nowhere a deep and raspy voice speaks. "Well, well, well. You finally got what you deserved, eh?" We both hear it spoken close by. "Patrick, I told you I'll get you back for what you did. Did I not?"
         I get up and look around, spotting somebody I thought I got away from. "Christopher? Why would you do this sort of thing?" He looks at me with his glaring silver eyes, scrunched up face, huge forehead, and bushy brown hair with a below average build.
         "Patrick, come on, you know. Don't you? Don't you remember?"
         "No, why would I ask if I remembered?"
         Then I remember. I remember how he screwed me over, he screwed himself over, and how he abused his girl that eventually left him for me.