State Of Chaos Case 1

by Jkh596

This is the first of a series I plan on turning into a graphic novel. Based in the 1970s, Two Homicide Detectives in a fictional city and State getting through realistic and relatable situations, Whether it be Work, relationships, or cars. I loosely based this story off of multiple sources from 1970s T.V. shows like Dukes of Hazzard, Starsky and Hutch, Emergency, and others.

6. Chapter 6: Accident on Razorback Mtn

Basis: Chapter 6

Date & Time: Tuesday, August 12th, 1975 14:45 P.M.

City: St. Georgina

State: Lanahassee

Cunningham: C'mon sweetheart, please. We are on the run.

*The charger pulled up to the intersection and turned onto Lincoln Street. Following a suspicious oil trail leading down the street.

Jason: Think we're on the right scent?

Dustin: I think we might be. We'll find out when we get to the end of this trail.

*They followed the trail of oil on the road up to a red '58 Fury with bullet holes in the deck lid and rear window. The hood was up, and the driver-side door was halfway open.

Dustin: Paydirt.

*Cunningham closed the hood but didn't spot the Charger rolling up just down the street. He opened the trunk and put his old wooden toolbox inside

Dustin: He's about to leave.

*Dustin hit the gas, the Charger's 440 Magnum shrieked, and the Charger rocketed down the street. Cunningham panicked, jumped in the Fury, and tried to start the engine.

Cunningham: C'mon, c'mon!

*The Plymouth started with a loud backfire from the exhaust and took off down the road. The engine's once soft rumble now resembling that of a violent blatting thud. The black '68 Charger gave chase to the Fury.

*The Fury was rattling and blatting down the street at a surprisingly fast pace.

Jason: How the hell is that thing still running?

Dustin: I don't know.

*Dustin maintained his place behind the red Plymouth,

Cunningham: See if you can follow me through this, pig!

*Cunningham whipped the wheel, sending the car into a 90-degree power slide. The Plymouth hit the side street while the Charger continued.

Jason: Uh..Dustin?

Dustin: I know where he's going.

He grabbed the police radio

Dustin: Alpha-99 to Sierra-12

Cunningham: That's what I thought, you shitters.

*The Plymouth weaved between cars making its way towards the music strip. He was looking to escape St. Georgina. He slowed his pace down to 55 mph and looked around.

Cunningham: Was it that easy?

*As he merged onto the Music Strip, where many Blues Bars and Jazz Clubs lined the district's longest stretch of road, he didn't know that a black 1968 Dodge Charger was following behind him.

Dustin: There you are.

*The two detectives followed behind him discreetly up until they reached the dirt road turn-off to Razorback mountain. That's when Cunningham spotted them in his rear-view mirror.

Cunningham: Damn!

*The Plymouth swerved off the paved road onto the road leading to Razorback Mountain's peek overlook. The Charger followed suit.

Jason: Dustin?

Dustin: I know where we're going, Jace. Grab your gun.

*Jason checked the cylinders of his .357 Magnum Revolver. All six chambers were loaded with hollow points.

Dustin: I'll get close you take out his tire.

*Dustin got the charger close to the Plymouth. He grabbed the police radio and keyed the mic.

Dustin: Alpha-99 to Sierra-12, Are you in position?

Reed: Affirmative, we're ready.

Dustin: 10-4, coming your way.

*Jason leaned out the window and aimed his gun. He fired two rounds, one hitting the taillight of the Fury, shattering it. The other hit the tire, but did not puncture it.

Jason: He has bullet-proof tires.

Dustin: Damn.

*He moved up close to the side of the Fury. Cunningham looked back carrying a sawed-off Double-barreled shotgun.

Cunningham: Eat this pig!

Dustin: Shit, Jace, hang on.

*Dustin locked the charger's breaks. The charger whipped around to face the opposite way as the Plymouth continued down the road.

Cunningham: Hahahaha…..OHH!

The old man turned to see two more detectives and a 1970 Plymouth Fury GT blocking the road.

Cunningham: SHIT!

*Cunningham swerved off the dirt road and headed straight for a large mound of packed clay. The Fury launched into the air over a 500-foot cliff.

Cunningham: SHITTERS!

*The Plymouth nose-dives towards the ground. The car landed like a pancake on a griddle. The Gas tank ruptured, and the car exploded vaporizing Roland J. Cunningham in the explosion. The four detectives ran to the cliff and looked over to see the fireball that was once a '58 Fury.

Jason, Burns, and Reed: Damn

*Dustin makes his way back to the Charger and grabbed the police radio.

Dustin: This is Alpha-99. Pursuit is now Code-4. I need an Engine company, wrecker, and a meat wagon at Razorback Mountain Road, On the side of St. Georgina. Both us and Sierra-12 are at the scene.

Police Dispatcher: 10-4, Alpha-99. The Captain will be on his way.

Dustin: 10-4.

*The four detectives sat in their cars until Engine 59 and the wrecker arrived. They pulled in between the two detectives vehicles. There was enough space to accommodate the two vehicles for them to work, although the wrecker had turned around to pull the charred Fury from the Bottom of the cliff with help from Engine 59's crew. Dustin was smoking a cigarette leaning on the Charger's rear.

Jason: Well, are we done here?

Dustin: No. The Captain is on his way.

*As if summoned, the brown1975 Dodge Coronet 4-door pulled in next to the '68 Charger. Out stepped a man dressed in a long tan trench coat. Under the coat he wore a white button-up shirt with his torso holster holding his .38 special revolver, black trousers and black dress shoes. This man is Captain Gerald Rhoades.

*Note: Captain Gerald "Jerry" Rhoades was born in 1931, his father was a Marine who eventually was called to fight where he was killed in the Battle of Normandy. Jerry was 13. He was a very smart member of his class to where he graduated with a 4.0 GPA both in High school and College. He had served on the L.S.P.D. for 13 years, 5 in unform, and 5 as a detective for homicide, before serving as the captain over the Homicide detectives to this day.

*Rhodes walked up to the two men and leaned on his passenger side front fender across from them.

Rhoades: Gentleman.

Jason: Cap.

Dustin: Cap.

Rhoades: It's not your fault he had the chance to stop. I heard your ordeal over the horn.

Dustin: Well, he didn't.

Rhoades: Detective, I know what you are going through. And trust me. It could have been way worse.

Jason: Well, I happen to know that a certain concerned teenager at Consular General will be happy to know that creep is pushing daisies.

Dustin: Yeah, I know.

*Dustin takes a drag from his cigarette as the charred Fury is dragged onto the wrecker's flatbed, and the covered remains of Cunningham are pushed into the coroner's 1974 Dodge Monaco Wagon.

Rhoades: Damn.

Dustin: Yeah. It doesn't get any easier does it.

Rhoades: No, at least that part doesn't.

Jason: C'mon, brother. I think we're done here.

*The Two detective go into the Charger; Dustin turns the key starting the engine.

Jason: You, okay?

Dustin: …. Yeah,

Jason: Don't worry Brother. Let's get back to the precinct.

Dustin: Yeah, I'm glad are three days off are starting tomorrow. Another day of this shit and I'd lose my damn mind.

Jason: Yeah. Best we stop by Consular on the way to check that Carbon Monoxide is completely out of your system

Dustin: Yeah Your right.

*Dustin puts the car in gear and the charger drives back down the mountain towards Precinct 51.