Free Grief: Five Stories of Apocalyptic Loss by Michael Coorlim Page A

are you holding up."
    "Tired. I've been working dispatch since Academy, Bill. I'm not used to... I'm in shape, it's not the long shift, it's just... seeing people like this..."
    "Hey now," Walker said. "I've been patrol for ten years, some of the worst parts of the city. Trust me, I ain't any better prepared than you."
    "Those helmets, Bill. I can't stop seeing them. Thinking about the cops who dropped them. I'd die before I gave mine up. Before I let someone take mine away."
    "Makes you feel better, some of those shields you saw were still in the hands of the men they were issued to," Perez said.
    "What?" Lange cocked her head, trying to get his meaning. She'd been up too many hours for games.
    "We've been holding up pretty good. Glen took that brick to the face last night. Argyle had his leg chewed up by that dog. Murphy was shot. But that's it. Three injuries evac'd, twelve more gone in the morning."
    "We get it, Perez," Walker said quietly.
    "What, you think they evaporated?" Perez said. "Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about it. Like you haven't been wondering what the fucking point was, like you'd rather just go home or join in on the--"
    Walker broke ranks, rushing Perez, slamming his brother-officer up against the side of a junked car, baton across his throat. "That's enough, Perez. Shut the fuck up. We don't need your bullshit right now, okay?"
    Perez grunted, and Walker backed off.
    "Jesus, Bill. You be careful or I'm gonna have to talk to my union rep about this."
    "Shut the fuck up."
    Perez chuckled, lowered the face-plate of his helmet, and got back into line.
     
    ***
     
    Walker stopped, listening to his radio. The others still wore theirs, though over the last few days the batteries had run dry -- their few spares had been allotted to the highest ranking officer among them. The column stopped and waited in silence, some standing at disciplined attention, others taking the opportunity to sit or lean against a wall.
    "Copy that," he said.
    "We getting rotated out?" Perez asked, squatting against a dry fountain.
    "Negative." He paused, surveying his exhausted officers, weighing a heavy decision.
    "Lange. Perez. You're with me. Rest of you head on to Renfroe and State. Logan's in charge."
    "Where are we going?" Perez asked.
    Walker re-clipped his radio to his shoulder. "We got an officer in need of assistance at the Hyde Park bank."
    "What's going on?" Lange asked.
    "It's Eiberg. That's all I know."
    "Fucking great," Perez rose to his feet. "The fuck's he doing at a bank?"
    "Eiberg," Lange said. "I think he moonlights as a security guard."
    "And he's still at the fucking bank?" Perez said. "Why wasn't he called in?"
    "Eiberg's a few years from his pension. We're not so low on manpower that we need fifty-year-old men playing riot cop."
    Perez glanced up towards the slowly moving eleven-man column heading towards State Street. "Like hell we're not. Bank can't still be open. The fuck he doing still at work?"
    Walker didn't respond, turning and heading towards the nearest cross-street, Lange hurrying to keep up with his determined pace.
     
    ***
     
    The staccato cracks of gunfire had been a constant companion throughout the course of the riot, some close, some distant, but there hadn't been anything like the steady gun-play that the officers heard as they approached the bank. They moved slowly, cautiously, moving from cover to cover, first Walker, then Perez, then Lange, making their way closer. It sounded to Lange like small arms fire -- handguns -- but she hadn't had enough fieldwork to be sure.
    "Three of them." Perez had been SWAT. Lange didn't like him -- no one did -- but she trusted his expertise. "No, four."
    "One of them's gotta be Eiberg." Walker paused near the bank's corner.
    "Three hostiles, then," Lange said. "Can you get Eiberg on the radio?"
    "No. He made the call in on the bank's hotline."
    There was a momentary pause in the gunfire, and Walker moved, disappearing around the corner. Perez