Woody felt fear racing down his spine, swallowing hard began to creep closer to the darkening house. He could hear voices, several adult, a few children. He watched where he put his feet carefully, avoiding glass and creaky floorboards. He had told Mac about his mother and his father, while not in great detail, but he had told someone. That was a great feat for him, he hadn't told anyone in Boston of his life before. He had buried it deep inside, hoping to forget that it ever happened. Now he thought about it in great detail, thinking of how sick his mother was, she could barely even stand up in the end.
He remembered his father, how he drank, and he wasn't a very nice drunk either. Woody had often defended his younger brother from a very drunk dad. And while Woody never resented his dad, and he certainly never felt sorry for himself. But it hit him hard, harder than any smack his father delivered ever could.
Then his father died, sheriff of a small town in Wisconsin, it was a miracle that he even had to lift his gun. But he did, on an eighteen year old kid robbing the local mini mart... he remembered the look on the kids face, the look of terror, guilt whatever it was, Woody thought it was enough punishment. And all the kid got for it was a few lousy bucks and a carton of cigarettes. He remembered the rattling breaths his father took as he lay in that hospital bed, he listened as the heart monitors steady beeps turned monotone and flat.
It seemed like the only thing Woody could hear in that steady beeping drumming in his ear, even as he entered that desolate, stark looking house.
All those years at the academy seemed to melt away when he heard what sounded like a baby crying... he could take murder, people were murdered all the time, he was trained to handle it... but not children, not babies. Each step he took he inched closer to the second door, it was so dark, he could barely see a foot in front of him.
"Watch your back" the first thing he learned in the academy. When he heard the slow creak of the door behind him closing he mentally kicked himself for letting his emotions get in the way.
"Hello Detective, what brings you here?" A voice asked behind him.
"Benny Perez, you have the right to remain silent..." Woody began his voice laced with nervousness. The man began to laugh coldly as Woody turned and to his horror, saw the man holding a little girl, a gun to the little girls throat, tears fell down her face.
"Put down the gun detective... now!" he demanded, pushing the barrel harder into her neck. Woody grimaced his mind whirling, the little girl looked so scared and alone. Slowly, he set his gun on the ground as the man dropped the little girl, she took off running for her life. He forced Woody to his knees with a blow to the back of his head. The last thing Woody thought of was Jordan and Mackenzie, if they were okay in the car, he thought of Jordan's eyes, how they could melt him in an instant.
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Jordan looked around the barren parking lot nervously, she felt afraid, for Woody, for Mac... she hadn't felt this kind of fear since her mother was murdered. The fear in her throat rose when she heard a child like scream coming from the isolated house. She looked to Mac and Mac looked back at her with wide eyes.
"Wait here!" she demanded as she unbuckled her seat belt.
"But Jordan!!!" Mac called after her, but Jordan was already running down the gravel driveway.
What was Woody thinking? Going in there without backup. She thought, As she entered that house, she remembered something he had told her a long time ago. Then it didn't mean much to her.
I can be complicated too.
Now she wished she could hear his voice soothing her again. She wished she had told him how she felt. She felt a rush of cold wind brush up against her and she wrapped her arms around her for any warmth she could find inside her.
That's when she heard it.
She was a cop's daughter, she knew what a gunshot sounded like, she had heard it so many times... three shots from two different guns. She froze, not knowing if she should turn and run, or keep going. For some reason, her legs wouldn't work. With leaden legs she moved forward. She could hear more gunfire; she could hear men shouting to each other, none were Woody. She got on her hands and knees, crawling towards the door, she could see him... leaning against a cement pillar for cover, blood drenching the front of his shirt... whether it was his or not she couldn't tell.
The gunfire was dying down... with one more fire of his police issued handgun, it ceased. Only then, did Jordan open the door.
The sight that met her eyes caused her to scream, the entire room was coated in blood... it seemed like it glowed red. Woody looked at her with narrowed eyes.
"I thought I told you to wait in the car!" he snapped, writhing a bit.
"Your hurt." She whispered in a horrified voice, memories flooding her mind... her mother lying in a pool of blood on the dining room floor. Before he could answer, he saw Mackenzie standing in the doorway, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Aw, I thought I told you to stay in the car." He said with a groan. Her breathing quickened as she walked past Jordan and took his hand.
"Are you okay?" Mackenzie asked, her voice breaking.
"What Kid? This... I've been in worse scrapes than this... can't think of any right now." He joked, Jordan slowly moved toward him, wiping his face with the palm of her hand. He could feel how soft she was, her skin was like milk, for a moment he lost himself, until he heard the sound of Angela's voice, she had brought backup.
He tried to stand, but slid back to the ground. Writhing in pain, rolling over in a desperate attempt to relieve the pain of the shot.
Angela came running up. Woody smiled, but the fear in his eyes was ever present. Jordan looked at him with liquid eyes. "Get Mac outta here." He said seriously, she shook her head. "Jordan." He said sternly. "Get her out of here." He demanded.
"I'm not leaving you." Mackenzie butted in.
"Kid, get out of here, I promise everything will be okay, alright, Angie is here, she'll take care of me..." the little girl shook her head, Jordan leaned forward to look at Woody once more.
"Jo, for what its worth, it was worth all the while." He whispered into her ear. With that she stood solemnly, he nodded toward her as she held onto Mac's arm, but when she tried to pull Mac away she fought.
"No, Woody!" she wailed, fighting against Jordan, clawing at her, Jordan fought her own tears back as the little girl kicked and screamed.
Woody looked like he was loosing consciousness, but his crystal blue eyes never left Jordan. Even as she walked away, glancing behind her once... he smiled.
"See yah in the funny papers." He whispered in a husky voice.
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Angela looked down in horror at Woody, tears streaming steadily down her face.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Huh? Coming in here without back up..." she scolded. "WE NEED AN AMBULANCE!!!!" she shouted, tears pouring down her face as Woody began to loose consciousness, his eyes rolling up inside of his head. "Damn it Woody, don't die on me... you hear me you can't, you're my best friend, Woody, Woody?!" a paramedic had to fight her off of him as they set him gingerly on a gurney. She stumbled back, looking out of a broken window, night had fallen on Boston, the sky was purple black, but the snow on the ground glowed in the silver blue moonlight. She could see Jordan standing numbly in the driveway, holding Mackenzie strongly so the little girl wouldn't run back inside.
She fallowed the swarm of people around the gurney out the door, faltering dazedly out of the door, joined them, but the second that gurney was out the door Jordan took off, running desperately toward the ambulance.
"Woody," she said softly, he looked at her and attempted to smile, but she could see the fear in his eyes.
"Mac?" he asked in a scared voice.
"She's alright." Jordan whispered as she ran alongside of him. He nodded, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. "Woody, I love you." She whispered
She froze when a paramedic grabbed her arm and lead her away. "Come on," Angela yelled, holding Mac as she sobbed into her hip. "We better get to the hospital." She said. Jordan just climbed into Angela's silver Volvo, she didn't cry, she didn't scream, she just stared out into nothing.