Chapter 40 — Psychiatric Ward

  The sound of sirens grew, and I knew they were heading for us. Shooting an entire magazine in your backyard was a good way to have the neighbors call the cops, especially in a more elderly neighborhood like this. However, the gunshots might help lower the property taxes in the neighborhood.

  “Think they know it was your house?” I asked as we shuffled through the door.

  “Probably not, but they will knock, and we can’t really hide that something happened here. Look at us.”

  I did… like really looked… and saw the truth of her words. Lana had blood flowing freely down her arm and leg. The small sitting room inside her back door had a large mirror on one wall, wreathed in an antique gold painted frame. In it, I saw how bad I looked. I had cuts and bruises across my face, my hair was still burned and looked ridiculous. We both had dirt and grass stains like we’d been playing tackle football. Combined with my injuries from earlier I looked like I’d been stuffed in a washer and ran on the normal setting for an hour.

  “Burglar again?” I asked, excited to have an accomplice.

  “Or a dog attack.”

  “There is probably no blood left from your gunshots...”

  “We could say I’m a bad shot.”

  “Could you… handle that?” I asked, grinning despite it all. “I mean from what I saw, you hit it with every bullet.”

  “I did,” she said, her lips assuming a smug smile.

  I whistled.

  “What about a cougar?” she asked.

  “Maybe, it doesn’t match all of our wounds.”

  “It does if it's attacking. We're close to the foothills, it’s not entirely implausible.”

  We both glanced down at the cut on her arm. It might pass for a cougar attack.

  “Then what happened to me?”

  “You got beat up at Rex’s dojo yesterday, in a fight with a robber that night, and today you tripped over the fire running from the cougar and landed on a paver.”

  “So—just to be clear—You shot at the thing attacking us, all heroically, while I tripped over the fire running away?”

  “That sums it up,” she said, her eyes with a jovial twinkle. “Can you handle that?” She asked the last miming my exact tone and inflection from before.

  “Yeah. I can.” I chuckled before cutting it off because my ribs hurt too much to continue.

  Lana rose up on her toes and we kissed once more. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but feel joyful around her. My life was kind of amazing, and the adrenaline high we were both experiencing was dulling the pain and fatigue. I knew it wouldn’t last, but right now I felt amazing.

  We stepped out on the front porch and waved down the first police car to drive up the road. There were multiple trolling the streets, lights on but most with silent sirens.

  The car pulled up and parked. I swore as Officer dip shit stepped out.

  “Well, well. Aren’t you two having an eventful few days,” Officer Darron Vance said as he stepped from the patrol car while tucking his fingers into his belt with a smug expression. The rookie, Lansing stepped out of the passenger side of the vehicle behind him.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “We were attacked,” Lana said, not halting at Officer Vance’s tone and words. “By a cougar. I shot it… I think, but it got away.”

  “Call it in,” Darron said to the Rookie who, somewhat hesitantly, sat back inside the car.

  Officer Vance strode forward, thumbs still looped into the sides of his belt, chest thrust out like he owned the sidewalk. “And what was your name again… Miss?”

  “Lana.”

  “Lana who?”

  “Lana Pike.”

  “Well Lana Pike, discharging a firearm inside city limits is a serious offense.”

  “Not if it’s in defense of myself or my property.”

  I could see Officer Vance’s condescending demeanor deflate slightly as he realized he was dealing with someone who knew their rights and who wasn’t intimidated by him.

  “Why is he here,” he said, gesturing to me with a tubby thumb.

  “None of your business. Honestly, I’d rather speak to Officer Lansing if you don’t mind,” Lana said. The tone neutral but her hands on her hips made it clear it wasn’t a request.

  “Well, you don’t get a choice,” he said with a sneer.

  I clenched my fists. But what was I going to do, assault an Officer for being a dick? Maybe. I considered it for a long moment. But then Officer Vance would handcuff me and it would only make the night worse. Despite logic winning out this time, I had to focus on relaxing my jaw. It was nearly an act of war trying to keep it relaxed and not shout out the things I wanted to say. The flickering red and blue lights on the patrol vehicle cut out and flickered erratically before the red one came back on by itself. I took a deep breath and focused on controlling my aura.

  Lana snickered at the broken light, and I was glad I could help in some small way. “I get all the choices I want, Officer Vance,” she finished as another car pulled up into the driveway behind my jeep. A female Officer stepped out.

  “Hello Officer?” Lana said to the new arrival, trailing off as she waited for a name.

  “Smith,” The woman provided as she stepped out, hand on her holster as she tried to ascertain what the situation was.

  “Can I give my report to you, this Officer,” Lana said pointing to Vance, “has been condescending and frankly misogynistic the whole time.”

  “Hey now—”

  “—Yes, you can,” The female Officer Smith said immediately, giving Vance a glare. I grinned. Apparently, Vance was a dickhead to everyone.

  “Fine, I’ll search the premises and the house,” Officer Vance said and turned to go inside.

  “Not without your minder.” Officer Smith said, shaking her head and tossing her short hair out of the way of her eyes. “Lansing! Go search with Darron, make sure he doesn’t miss anything.”

  I whistled and raised my eyebrows at Vance, giving him the middle finger in a way only he could see.

  We both gave our story to Officer Smith, then circled around the back of the house and showed where the attack had occurred. The destruction was more than I recalled in our brief moments before heading inside. The rose bushes were trampled, and burned spots littered the grass. Brass casings from Lana’s spent rounds lay strewn about the lawn. Her gun lay discarded on the ground from where it had fallen when we’d been struck.

  It reinforced one thing for me. We were lucky to be alive.

  If the creature had attacked before I’d spotted it, if I hadn’t had my backpack with iron filings inside and right next to my chair, or if our chairs hadn’t been together where they were—everything could have gone differently.

  An ambulance arrived and we both had to fend off the helpful EMTs, stating we were proficient in wound care and would take care of everything ourselves. They still insisted on checking me for a concussion and assessing Lana’s wounds while applying antiseptics and education on wound prevention and a few light bandages for her ankle and forearm. They highly recommended she go into the ER for stitches.

  We were separated and I was asked about my wounds, the Officer and EMT carefully inquiring if I’d been abused and felt safe with them leaving me there. I was sure Lana was asked the same questions and while it felt dumb given what we’d just faced together, I knew they were just doing their jobs. We were allowed to return to each other after a few moments when they were reasonably assured we weren’t the cause of each other’s injuries.

  “They probably can help you,” I whispered in her ear, “I’m sure that cuts stinging pretty bad.” I said, gesturing at her arm, “You might also need meds, or imaging of your leg.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Lana said. “Fren can help in a few days, right?”

  I nodded glumly. Hoping he would be able to, but I didn’t want to get into the details of it right now since an Officer had moved close by, and discussing Fren’s powers was probably a quick way to get put into a psychiatric ward, or at least taken to the hospital to ensure we were in a proper state of mind to make decisions like refusing medical care.

  Our story was questioned, multiple times. It helped that whatever had attacked us had scarred the fence with claw as it physically broke through the thick planks to escape. I personally didn’t think a cougar could manage the feat, but it was clear something had attacked and that we thought it was a cougar. I heard someone on the patrol radio telling someone on the other end that the FBI might want to see the site for their ongoing investigation. I groaned, knowing we were going to have a very, very long night.