"What was that?" Mike asked.
Peeking through his blinds, he saw to his horror that a cop car crashed into his tree. There was steam rising from the hood, the sirens were still flashing, and the driver looked unconscious.
"I'll be right back," Cameron said quickly.
"Don't leave!" the kid pleaded.
"Mike stay with him," he ordered. Ripping off his headset, Cameron bolted out of the house. Once outside he saw many on lookers coming closer.
"Call an ambulance!" someone shouted. But there were already about four people on their cell phones…all of whom looked to have gotten a busy signal.
No one seemed to know what to do, so Cameron decided to take charge and opened the car door. Another person came forward and helped Cameron lay the cop on the ground. He looked like hell: there was a gash across his forehead, his right arm was in tatters, and it turned out that he was just barely conscious.
"Let's get him inside." Grabbing the cop by the pits, and the helper getting the ankles, together they carried the cop inside Cameron's house and onto the couch.
"I'll try to get a doctor," the helper said, running back outside.
Cameron decided to take a closer look at the man bleeding on his couch. From the extent of the injuries, the cop must've had some internal bleeding, which appeared more certain when the he started looking pale and his breathing became labored.
"You okay?" Cameron asked, kneeling next to him.
The cop mumbled. "Wh—where am I?"
"Homewood."
"I got that far?" he asked weakly.
"Where'd you come from?"
"Downtown."
"What the fuck is going on?" Cameron said, perplexed.
"People…people are going crazy," the cop answered. "They can't be stopped…even after opening fire."
"You shot at people!" Cameron exclaimed, even more freaked out.
The cop tried to sit up, but Cameron kept him down. "Listen, we've got to get outta here. Have a car?"
"I'm not just gonna run away until I know what's going on! Hell, I'm talking to someone online, and he says that there's shit going down in Buffalo!" Cameron told him.
"What!" he yelled, causing himself more pain. "Let me talk to this person."
"It's upstairs."
"Then carry me!"
Not knowing what else to do, Cameron took the cop's good left arm and heaved him up. He really didn't think that the cop should be moving in his condition, but what choice did he have?
Upon entering his room, Cameron sat the cop on his bed and put his headset on. "Hello?"
"Jesus, Cam, what took so long?"
"A cop came knocking. Pwnmaster—"
"My name's Joey!" the kid declared.
"Fine, Joey, this man here wants to talk to you." Cameron handed the headset to the cop, who put it over his ear.
"Can you kindly explain to me what's going on?" The cop listened intently for a minute or two, his face growing in anguish. Finally, he said, "God dammit…that's exactly what I saw happening over here."
"Really?" Cameron asked, his voice cracking badly.
"We need to find somewhere safe," the cop said firmly, trying to stand.
"You can barely move," Cameron told him, feeling numb. But the cop wasn't able to get on his feet before doubling over in pain. "See, you probably have some broken ribs, too."
"It's not that," he grunted, sweating profusely. "It's as if…" The cop quieted down before vomiting blood.
"Holy fuck!" Cameron screamed, putting as much distance between him and cop.
The cop slowly exhaled as he collapsed off the bed onto the puddle his own of sick, and lay still.
Cameron's cell phone then chimed again, so he flipped it open with shaky hands to see another text from Mike: "wtf happened?"
Throwing on the headset, he screamed in panic, "The cop's dead!"
"What!" Mike asked, confused. "How?"
"I don't know! He just got sick and fell over!"
"Run!" Joey told him. "That's what happened here! He might try to get you!"
"I seriously doubt that. He looks pretty dead to—" He stopped when he heard a moaning sound. Turning around slowly, Cameron saw the cop stir and try to get to his feet. "You okay?"
"Run!" Joey repeated.
When the cop was standing again, he slowly turned around, and Cameron knew that everything was completely wrong. The cop was paler than ever, with pale eyes, and a lifeless expression…that is until the cop let out a screech that could only have come from hell itself, and lunged after Cameron.
Only on pure instinct did Cameron raise his arms and catch the crazed cop at the throat. Cameron was slammed against the wall, but was able to keep his elbows locked to keep the cop back. Snarling and chomping, the cop flailed his arms wildly in front of him trying to get a hold on Cameron, who looked on in horror.
The cop kept trying to get closer; trying to take a bite out of Cameron like a wild monster. But he kept his fingers deep in the thing's throat, not allowing him move. All the while, Cameron was sprayed with the spit from the intense chomping. It made him sick.
"Get off!" he shouted angrily. "GET! THE! FUCK! OFF!" Getting his leg in the correct position, Cameron was able to swing his right leg straight up, kicking the cop in the groin.
But it didn't do anything! Cameron tried again, and again, but the cop was relentless. If anything, that only made Cameron more afraid. Was the guy a eunuch? What kind of man could ignore the pain?
"Cam!" Mike yelled, through the headset he still had on. "Cam, what's happening?"
"Stop!" Cameron tried kicking again. "Being!" Another kick. "An asshole!" One last kick.
Losing his footing, Cameron then started to slide down the wall, putting more and more weight on his arms. The cop began biting more desperately, now clawing at Cameron's forearms, apparently knowing that a meal was close at hand.
When he reached a sitting position, Cameron knew that he wouldn't last much longer—that he would lose his strength and the cop would soon feast. All of his thoughts went to the switchblade that he kept hidden in his sock drawer. If he could only get to it…
Raising his leg once more, this time Cameron was able to plant in foot in the middle of the cop's chest. With one mammoth effort, he kicked the cop away.
But that only caused the cop to stumble back a few steps. Before he allowed him to get back his footing, Cameron used his other leg knock the feet right out from under the cop. And without wasting any precious time, Cameron stood up and stomped down on the man's neck. He felt as the trachea gave away, but the cop still went on thrashing, still hungry for Cameron.
At that point Cameron no longer saw the cop as a human, but as a monster that needed to be destroyed. It didn't matter what kind of person he once was, whether or not he had a family, this thing had to be put down for good.
Reaching over to his sock drawer without taking any weight off his foot, Cameron opened it, and dug through it until he found his switchblade. His parents didn't know he owned one, but Cameron had always wanted one just incase—though he never imagined using it like this.
Cameron released the blade and took his foot off at the same time. Just as he thought, the cop lunged upward, so Cameron stabbed down. The cop's upward momentum and blade's downward motion allowed it to easily penetrate the cop's skull.
The cop stopped in his tracks, and Cameron wiggled the knife around a little just to make sure before pulling out. The thing that used to be the law enforcement officer then fell over and moved no more. With the experience now over, it flooded over Cameron all at once, causing him to vomit…. He was just thankful to see no blood in it.
That kill would be the first of many.