Our brush with death, or in Jack’s case, his wrestle with death, had left us all a little shaken.

Kim had taken us to one of the interrogation rooms to get us away from the mess in the holding cell, and to make sure we were all right. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’re not actually going to interrogate you.”

I think she was trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. Nobody laughed.

The interrogation room was pretty bare. It consisted of a table and some chairs, a phone, and one of those massive one way mirrors where people could watch from the next room. Kim sat down on the other side of the table and assured us we would be able to go home just as soon as we talked with the Sergeant.

“Why do we need to talk with the Sergeant?” Jack asked. “Can’t we just leave?”

“I think he just wants to make sure you’re OK. And that you’re not going to sue for spending all night in a holding cell with a maniac.”

Kim looked so cool in her police uniform. It was only the year before last that she’d finished high school and now here she was, looking totally badass. For the brief time that I’d known Kim I’d always admired her. She’s super strong and fit. Plus, she’s not intimidated by anyone. All of a sudden my mind showed me an 80’s action-movie style montage of Kim working out at a gym, walking her dog, rock climbing, picking out a ripe avocado in the fresh food section of the grocery store, catching a Frisbee. I forced myself to snap out of it. I think the sleep deprivation was making me a little loopy.

A moment later, an older, extremely over weight man entered the room and sat down next to Kim. He didn’t look anywhere near as good as Kim did in her uniform. The buttons on his shirt were under enormous strain and he had sweat stains under his arms. There was no montage for him playing in my head. If there had been, it would only have consisted of him sitting on a lazy boy, eating nachos off of his gut, spilling guacamole on the floor, whistling to his dog to come and clean up the mess. He looked at me then, he even raised his eyebrows as if to say, “Well? Where’s my 80’s action-movie style montage?”

I suddenly felt light headed.

“OK, kiddies,” the Sergeant said. “We’re not here to play good cop, bad cop. We just need to get some details on record and then you can go home.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew we hadn’t really broken any laws.

“My name is Sergeant Karl Pearce. And you already know this young lady.”

Maria started to cry.

“Miss, please calm down,” the Sergeant said as he rolled his eyes. “We’re not here to lecture you about the underage drinking or yell at you for breaking curfew or anything like that. Frankly, we’ve got bigger things to deal with right now.”

Lecture us, I thought? We were the ones left in the holding cell for like, twenty-four hours. I wanted to ask him if that was even legal. But I didn’t.

Maria kept on crying. She had her head lowered and her shoulders hunched forward. But to my surprise she was the one who confronted the Sergeant. “Why did you take so long?” she asked through a mess of tears. “Why did you leave us in there?”

Even then, even despite the little bit of snot running down her nose, she still looked beautiful.

“We were attacked by that man,” she continued. “He could’ve hurt us, he could’ve done anything.”

“Look, we’re sorry about that. But as you know the National Quarantine has put enormous pressure on our resources. Trust me, with all the looting and riots out there, prison is the safest place to be right now.”

This piece of news did not comfort Maria at all. She actually started crying harder, wailing to the point where she couldn’t breathe properly. “Safe!? We could’ve been killed!”

Jack sat forward in his chair. “Kim, she’s just tired. I think she just wants to go home.”

I was surprised that Jack was so calm at this point, especially since he was the one who was actually attacked.

The Sergeant looked at Kim and pinched the bridge of his nose. I guess he hadn’t dealt with too many hysterical teenage girls during his career. Before he had a chance to gain some experience in this field, the intercom beeped.

“Sergeant Pearce?”

The big man leant over the intercom and spoke unnecessarily close to the receiver. “Yes, Dennis. What do you need?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but Lieutenant Smith of the US Marines is here to talk to you. He said you’ve been expecting him? He’s here to collect the soldier we picked up last night.”

The Sergeant took his finger off the intercom button. “About bloody time. Bloody yanks. Haven’t even been here a week and they think they run the joint.”

He pushed the intercom button back in and composed himself. “Copy that. I’ll be out in a second. Tell him to have a seat.”

“Yes, sir. Oh, and sir?” The man on the other end lowered his voice to a whisper. “There’s an issue in solitary.”

“What do you mean?”

“That lady, the one we picked up drink driving? Well, she’s acting weird.”

“She’s an alcoholic, Dennis. What do you expect?”

“You better come and have a look.”

The Sergeant took his finger back off the intercom button and stood up. “Bloody hell. Can someone please tell me why Dennis can never do anything for himself? What do they even teach you kids at the academy these days?”

Kim nodded her head in agreement. “It’s an outrage, sir.”

Sergeant Pearce straightened his tie as best he could. “Finish up here, would you? Make it quick.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Sergeant waddled out of the room. It was quite a site watching someone of that size move.

Kim waited until the Sergeant had left before apologizing. “Sorry about that. He’s having a bad day.”

“He’s having a bad day?” I asked.

“Kim, just get us the hell out of here,” Jack said.

“OK, well, since Maria’s parents are out of town you should probably take her home,” Kim said to Jack. “I’ll call dad.”

“Do you have to?” Jack protested. “Can’t you just take us home?”

“No. We’re way too busy.”

“Please, don’t call them,” Jack said. “They still think I’m at Maria’s. Just let us walk home. They won’t even have to know.”

“Jack, you’re all minors. I’m not allowed to let you just walk out. I’d lose my job. And besides, you do not want to be walking the streets right now. People are looting and rioting everywhere. Grocery stores, pharmacies, liquor stores. It’s getting pretty damn crazy out there.”

Jack banged his head on the table.

“What are you worried about?” Kim asked. “Dad won’t even care. He’ll be happy to know that you guys are OK. You know what he’s like. His bark is worse than his bite.”

“Yeah, maybe with you. We both know you’re his favorite.”

“Whatever. I’m still calling him,” she said as she picked up the phone. She punched in a few numbers before stopping. “That’s weird.” She put the phone on the receiver and picked it back up. “What the hell? There’s no dial tone.”

She put the phone back on the receiver and checked her mobile. “The network is down.” She then tried her radio but it was full of static. She tried the phone again but it was no good.

“Stay here. I’ll have to use one of the phones in the office,” she said as she was looking at the reception bars on her phone, moving it around to see if that would make any difference.

Before she could leave, there was a loud bang that came from somewhere in the building. A bang that sounded oddly like a gunshot.

Kim looked up from her phone.

The angry scowl on Maria’s face morphed into a look of fear. She stopped crying. “What was that?”

“Maybe it was a car back firing?” Jack said. “Like, a really old car?”

Another bang. This time it sounded louder and closer. Definitely not a car backfiring.

We all held our breath.

I looked at Kim. Her eyes were wide and full of confusion.

“Was that what I think it was?” I said.

“Shh.” She held her hand up to keep us quiet. She stood slowly. She unclipped the gun holster on her belt with her other hand.

I gripped the sides of my chair. A police station was the last place you expected to hear gunshots.

She took a few cautious steps towards the one and only door to the room. “Guys, I want you to move to the other side of the table. Stay as low as possible.”

We did exactly as she said.

Kim moved closer to the door. She reached for the door handle. Someone screamed in pain from the other side. This was followed by three more gunshots in quick succession. There was another scream of pain and someone else yelled, “Get down!”

Kim jumped a good five feet back from the door and drew her gun.

The door burst open.

Sergeant Pearce fell into the room ass backwards. Officer Dennis ran in after him, clutching his baton. He was covered in blood.

They were both out of breath.

A United States soldier followed them in, bringing up the rear. It was Kenji. He had a rifle in one hand and was carrying a wounded soldier on his other arm.

Kenji had the rifle raised and ready as he walked backwards through the door. His movements were calm and methodical. Once he was sure it was safe, he lowered his rifle and lowered the soldier, carefully placing his head on the ground. He then slammed the door shut and put his full weight against it.

The wounded soldier had his eyes closed, but kept repeating over and over, “The Lieutenant is dead, man. He’s dead. Call for back up.”