The chain link fence surrounded the huge, three-story brick building. Kids were always trying to get in when it was late and night. Once in a while, they would find a hole here or there and they would manage a quick flight onto the grounds.
That is where I came in. I am a night security guard at this enormous office building. I walk around and check doors and make sure things are all right. My buddy Wilson watches the security cameras. We actually take turns, but we get the job done and that is all that matters.
When the occasional errant, on a dare, kid did managed to get in, we would usually see them almost immediately, and one of us would go out to intercept their efforts. All in all, the nights usually seemed to run together.
I like my job. I have always been a night person and like to keep to myself, so this sounded perfect for me when I responded to the want ad almost six years ago. I have never regretted walking into personnel that August day for my interview.
There have been many social occasions to learn about my co-workers, but I rarely go. "Mixers" I think is what they like to call them. But, I prefer just doing my job and picking up my paycheck. Wilson and I have small talk, but that is pretty much the extent of how involved I am with the other 700 plus people that work in this small Midwestern corporation.
We get to work around 11 o'clock p.m. That is when the cleaning crew is finishing up. They are leaving as we walk into work. The first of the "day" employees arrive around 8 o'clock a.m. They have the whole eight to five thing. Drones, all of them. The day life and working for the man was never my gig. I just never could get into that "conforming" thing. It's good for them, but not me.
As I inferred, I lead a pretty uneventful life. I usually go straight home from work, but I don't go to sleep for a couple hours. I have to have my wind down time. I usually only sleep about five hours per day anyway, so I do that from about eleven to four. I get up then and have a few hours before I have to come to work. I take the occasional fishing trip, when I have more than a couple days off. I try to schedule that with management, and that is okay. I don't ask for much so they don't mind when I do.
My workweek is Sunday night, which is my Monday, to Thursday night, my Friday. One particular Thursday night Wilson called in and there was no one available to fill in. I was on my own.
As I said, the job is not hard. This doesn't happen very often, but one person can do the job if it is called for. This happened to be one of those nights. What the hell, it was "Friday," and I was off for the next 63 hours after my shift ends so I am good with it. All I have to do is watch the monitors, check the front doors, and then do the rounds of the other doors. Nothin' to it.
I guess the shift was about two hours in when I saw something on one of the monitors.
"Damn kids." I said out loud to myself.
Wouldn't you know the one night I am on by myself they try this shit.
I got up from my chair to go check.
We carry pistols, but never use them.
We go to the training sessions required to keep our certifications. But that is pretty much the extent of my shooting experience. I go to the shooting range occasionally to keep up, but I have never had to draw in the line. For some reason, this particular night, I had my hand at my side ready. I felt myself flip the small leather strap that keeps my sidearm in its holster. My hand was on the grip. I didn't draw, but I was ready to.
As my right hand was reaching for my pistol, my left hand went to the keys on my belt.
Unconsciously I wanted to make sure they were there before I left the building. Both actions, or rather reactions, were automatic. I was on autopilot. I always wondered if I would be able to do it. Would I be ready if I were put in this position? Usually one of us was on backup inside the building. Since I was alone tonight, maybe a little more adrenalin was kicking in that I didn't realize was there.
I went outside. I know from the video that the person trying to get into the building is around the side corner of the building and to my left. There is a lot of distance from the fences to the building, so I should have the upper hand. I should be able to just spot them, tell them to halt, and take them into custody. That is always what happened in the past and I was depending on it now.
If it is a kid, I will call their parents and have them come to pick them up. Usually that is all it takes. Kids will be kids. They do stupid things, and when the parents show up they are so upset, especially at this time of night, that they take the kids home and that is the end of it.
I hope this is one of those nights.
I saw the motion from my left side as soon as I hit the corner of the building. I swung my right leg around, pulled my pistol and ordered, "STOP" in my most authoritative voice.
The person didn't seem to hear me. They kept running and I started pursuit. I holstered my weapon and rounded the building. I was surprised at my own speed.
Just then it started to rain. I felt the rain pelting down upon my face. The rain was cool, but stinging. It started to get into my eyes and I couldn't control my vision.
I looked hard for this person I was tracking. I managed to keep up even despite the rain inhibiting my vision. They rounded the backside of the building to the left again.
There is a large overhang projecting out of the building. People go there to smoke. This person took refuge under the overhang and I was able to catch up.
The moon was out that night despite the rain. Slow visions of clouds passed over it but I could see my way. I found them, this time within hearing distance. I pulled my weapon again.
The voice was not exactly coherent, but I heard what sounded to be "help." Not a yell, but a plea from someone trying to escape something terrifying.
"Don't move." I yelled.
The person continued to run again, but fell in the rain. I saw the body tumble. I continued with my sure-fast footing and ran to where they were. I was standing over this limp body that had stopped moving.
I drew my weapon, but there was no need. I could see it was a woman I had been chasing. She couldn't move any further, that was apparent.
One of her heels had broken off in her attempt of escape.
They were the tall pointed ones that had the silver tip on the end. She had on a black dress that clung to her slender frame as if it was made for her.
I holstered my weapon and bent over the lifeless body to try to revive her.
Nothing.
I scooped her frail body up and turned around to take her back to the building that I called my home at night. I had known it for so long that that was what it was for me.
I carried her back around to the front of the building and half laid her next to the front door. She was to my right. I pulled my keys with my left hand and opened he door to the massive building. I put my left foot in the open doorway to hold the door open while I picked her back up in my arms.
I walked through the doors and she uttered these small words... barely a whisper, "Help me."
What was I supposed to do? I carried her inside and went instinctively to my left. There was a visitor's waiting room there with a couch. I carried her limp body to the couch and laid her down. There was no response from her body. Her left arm fell to the floor and I had to pick it up as it drooped downward to place it on her torso.
I didn't know exactly what to do. They didn't cover this one in all the training session I have attended except to do "on the scene" first aid and check vital signs if you are involved in some kind of incident. There was no "What if someone climbs through the fence and collapses" seminar.
I checked her pulse and breathing.
I called my buddy Wilson. I had to know if he had ever been through this himself. If he had, maybe he would have some input.
I heard the phone ringing. It rang about six times before he picked up. His voice was groggy, almost labored.
I started to speak to him and I told him what was going on.
I had this woman here who was asking for my help. Do I call 911 or what? She seemed to be okay from my first perception. She was breathing and her pulse was under 70.
What do I do?
He said he was on his way.
I went back to the visitor's room. I wanted to check on this lady who jumped into my life. I knew I probably should have called 911, but for some reason that I couldn't comprehend, I knew that was not the path I should take.
I saw her there. Her breathing was shallow, but regular. Her left leg moved. It seemed to throw itself off the couch. It was almost dangling on the floor, sort of resting on the floor on the one heel she still had on.
I felt sorry for her feet. I know how badly my feet feel when I am on them for a long time. I went to the couch to take her shoes off.
I bent over the couch and took the shoe off her right foot, the one missing the heel.
I sat down on the far end of the couch and grabbed her left foot that was bent down toward the floor and removed the other one.
That silver tip was so "classic." I love that type of shoe. I looked at the shoe and couldn't help myself but wonder what kind of sexual play she would like.
It takes a certain kind of woman to wear that type of shoe. The heel was at least three inches and the silver tip screamed, "Fuck me."
I started to in my mind.
