Free The Storm by Kevin L Murdock

across Plantation Road and the Chinese couple was backing away while still shouting some emotionally charged insults at whomever the culprits were as if they could hear and understand her.
                  “Mr. Myers, carefully step back please,” Alex asked with a sudden levelness in his voice.
                  As he was trained from a young age, I obeyed the officer and stepped back. I hadn’t been paying attention to Murphy, and looking down, I realized that he was being a naughty doggie. All that time, he was licking the ground. “Murphy! I shouted and tugged him back. No! Bad dog.” Murphy jolted with a whimper and immediately responded by moving. He looked up at me, and the look was mortifying. His snout and face were caked with miniscule chunks of gore and blood. He had found some intestines and been snacking while we conversed. Within a couple of seconds, I blew chunks and heaved up the last remaining bits of dinner the night before.
                  “Yeah, that’s pretty gross. You should head home and clean him up. Now you see why we put up the yellow tape?”
                  Coughing and wanting to vomit more, with that nasty burn taste that makes a voice instantly deeper, I answered, “Yes, I’m so, so sorry. This damn dog. I don’t know . . .”
                  “Don’t worry about it. She’s dead, Mr. Myers. I’m sure she won’t be the last body if we don’t get the power back soon. Most of our department has taken an immediate leave and gone home to look after their families. A couple of guys said they will stick around until tomorrow but then they have to hike back to Silver Spring to their loved ones as well. I’ll be around though. Me and my partner. Her name is Alex too. The department likes to joke and call us the Alex squared team. You see anything else or hear anything else crazy, you let us know. Not sure we can do much about it, but we’ll try. By the way, Mr. Myers, do you have a gun?”
                  Throat still burning and still so mad at the dog I could barely register what he was asking me. “A gun?”
                  “Yes, you see what happened here. Shit is hitting the fan fast, and as more people get away with crimes like this, at least for a while, it will encourage more to do the same. Law enforcement means well, but our manpower is almost non-existent. I still need to free a dozen people we arrested at LeapMart the other night. We don’t have the resources to keep them penned up and feed them. You go back to your family and people you trust, and you start talking to them about a militia.”
                  “A militia?” I again meekly answered. Instantly the thought of guys in white wigs and muskets staring down an army of red coats came to mind, but the idea had merit. There is strength in numbers, and this poor lady lying dead before me and her house burned down were proof of what could happen to individuals. Within my mind, this idea was gaining traction. “Yes, officer, I think I might just mention that to my neighbors.”
                  “Okay. You be on your way. Just so I know, what neighborhood do you live in?”
                  “Blennington Estates.”
                  “Okay, good. Only one main entrance. You all hunker down there and come up with contingency plans to deal with messes like this.”
                  “Yes, sir!” Murphy and I turned and started to walk. Stacy would scream if I let him into the house like this. At least the water still worked, and I could hose him down. The thought almost made me throw up again, but then I refocused on what the officer had said. He was right. We did need to come together as a neighborhood. It’s only been a couple of nights, and already a house was burned close by and a person shot. Who knew what a week or month would bring. A militia to protect ourselves