Mikaela awoke early, and got out of bed quietly.
She tiptoed to the door of her room, and peeked out into the hallway.
The house was quiet, and she could see that the sun was just starting to rise.
She went into her en-suite bathroom, and quickly got ready for school.
She packed her school bag, and looked at herself in the mirror.
Her long black hair was sleek and shiny, but her blue hoodie and jeans looked shapeless.
"Mommy always gets stuff that’s too big," she muttered to herself.
She crept downstairs, and sighed in relief that there was no sign of Annette or Sky.
She grabbed an apple, along with the key fob of the Hyundai Ioniq 5, opened the front door, and slipped out into the early morning.
The neighborhood was quiet, and Officer Vasquez’s patrol car was nowhere to be seen.
Mikaela, popped open the car door, and slid into the back seat.
She sighed as she ate her apple, and waited for Annette and Sky to show up.
A few minutes later, Sky strolled out of the house across the street, in their usual attire of baggy jeans, an oversized hoodie, and sneakers.
Mikaela rolled down the window slightly, and stuck the apple core out towards Sky.
"What do I look like? The garbage man?" asked Sky, glaring at Mikaela.
"Fine, I’ll throw it," said Mikaela, getting out of the car, and tossing the apple core into the trash can that was next to the driveway.
Sky snorted, and got into the front passenger seat.
Annette ca out of the house and saw Mikaela walking back to the car.
"There you are! Here, your breakfast," she said, handing Mikaela a slice of avocado toast.
Mikaela glared at her mother.
"I already had an apple," she said, folding her arms.
"Don’t piss off first thing in the morning, Mikaela. Just eat it," said Annette, her tone sharp.
"Give it to Sky!" shouted Mikaela, jumping into the back seat, and slamming the door shut.
"Respect your mother!" snapped Sky, glaring at Mikaela.
Mikaela covered her ears, and curled up in a ball.
Annette sighed, and got into the driver’s seat.
"All right, let’s just get to school," she said, starting the car. She played so Disney songs on the car’s infotainnt system, trying to lighten the mood.
Sky nonchalantly finished Mikaela’s avocado toast, while Mikaela stayed quiet, and curled up in the back seat.
----
"Central to unit 256, traffic cams have picked up an individual performing bicycle stunts on 4th main Palm Springs," ca the call over the radio.
"Copy that, Central, unit 256 is en route," replied Michelle as Camille drove the SZPD Stormkreuzer towards the location.
"Fifth idiot this week. Why can’t they just bicycle normally?" grumbled Camille, as they reached 4th main.
They saw a kid in his late teens, with no protective gear, riding down the wrong side of the road on one wheel.
Oncoming cars screeched to a halt, as the kid weaved dangerously close to them before weaving away.
"Hey! You on the bicycle, pull over!" called Michelle over the PA system.
The kid gave them the finger, and continued speeding down the road.
Camille activated the siren, and Michelle unhooked her baton from her belt.
"He’s going at 45 kiloters per hour," said Michelle, tracking him with her radar gun.
"I’ve had it with these idiots," muttered Camille, as she floored the accelerator.
With a loud roar, the Stormkreuzer accelerated, rapidly gaining on the kid.
Camille rolled down her window, and Michelle passed the baton to her.
With a deft flick of her wrist, Camille jabbed the baton into the rear wheel of the bicycle.
The kid scread as the bicycle spun out from under him, and he was flung onto the road.
The Stormkreuzer screeched to a halt, then spun around and approached the kid slowly.
Michelle got out of the car, and approached him.
"Police brutality! ACAB! ACAB!" shouted the kid, trying to run.
His black skin had pink bruises and scrapes, but he was otherwise unhard.
"You have the right to remain silent," said Michelle, backhanding him to the ground.
"Pig!" spat the kid through a mouthful of blood, as Michelle handcuffed him.
"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law, and you have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you," recited Michelle, dragging him towards the Stormkreuzer.
The commotion had attracted a small crowd of onlookers, who were filming the incident on their phones.
"Great, the peanut gallery," muttered Camille, as she opened the rear door of the Stormkreuzer.
Michelle shoved the kid into the back seat, and slamd the door shut.
"Central, this is unit 256 we have the suspect in custody," reported Michelle, as Camille started the engine.
However, the small group of people who were filming the incident, crowded around the Stormkreuzer, blocking its path.
"Let him go you pigs! He’s a minor!" shouted one of the onlookers.
"He needs the hospital! Not handcuffs!" shouted another.
Camille activated the siren, and revved the engine.
"Everyone, out of the way, or you’ll all be arrested for obstruction," said Michelle over the PA system.
"ACAB! ACAB!" shouted the crowd, as they banged the windows and doors of the car.
Camille floored the accelerator, and the Stormkreuzer let out a deafening roar.
The people behind the car jumped out of the way as the car’s hot exhaust blasted them.
Camille threw the car into reverse, and backed out through the gap, before spinning around and speeding away.
"Central, this is unit 256. We are en route to the station with one in custody," reported Michelle.
"Copy that, unit 256. We’ll alert the dical team to be on standby," replied Central.
----
Camille and Michelle entered the SZPD Headquarters, dragging their suspect behind them.
"I’m hurtin’ you damn pigs! I’m hurtin’!" shouted the kid, struggling against the handcuffs.
"Oink, oink. Shut the hell up!" snapped Michelle, slapping him across the face.
He let out a fresh howl of pain, and spat blood onto the floor.
"Ugh! Such an entitled little shit," muttered Camille, as they reached the booking area.
"Another one of those idiots popping wheelies while dodging incoming traffic eh?" asked the desk Sergeant.
"Yeah, and he was going nearly 30 miles an hour," replied Michelle.
"Well, he’s got so good company then. Get him to the clinic where he can be cleaned up and processed," ordered the Sergeant.
"Co on, you’ll get your doctor now," said Michelle, dragging the kid towards the clinic, with Camille following them.
"What the hell is that?" asked the kid looking apprehensively at the massive door to the clinic.
"That’s a door plus scanner. No need to do your mugshot anymore," chuckled Camille.
"What if I don’t want to go in?" asked the kid, his voice trembling.
"Can go through the scanner quietly, or we throw you in," said Michelle, crossing her arms.
Trembling, the kid shuffled into the scanner fra, after a mont, there was a loud beep, and the door to the clinic opened for him.
Michelle and Camille followed him in, and the door shut behind them.
The clinic was a large, sterile room, with a few chairs along the walls, and a dical bed in the center.
A police doctor, in a white coat looked up from his clipboard as they entered.
"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the examination bed.
The kid hesitated, then reluctantly sat down on the bed.
"What’s your na?" asked the doctor.
"J-Jamal," he stamred.
"Full na?" asked the doctor.
"Jamal Randall," he replied.
"OK, let’s take a look at you," said the doctor, as he began examining Jamal.
"Hmp! You’re lucky. Just a few scrapes and bruises. You’ll be fine once those are cleaned up," said the doctor, pulling out a ball of cotton and so antiseptic.
Jamal flinched and yelped as the doctor cleaned the scrapes on his arms and legs, before dressing them in bandages.
"There, all done," said the doctor, as he finished up.
"Can I go ho now?" asked Jamal, looking at Michelle and Camille.
"You’re sitting in a holding cell until either your parents, or your lawyer gets here," replied Michelle, grabbing him by the arm.
"Hey! Let go of !" shouted Jamal, struggling against the handcuffs.
"What the hell is your problem? You pop wheelies in traffic, and now pull this whole crybaby act?" snapped Michelle, slapping him across the face again.
Jamal started to sniffle, and tears welled up in his eyes.
"Now co on! You’ll be fine in there until soone cos for you," said Camille, as they dragged him out of the clinic.
They led him to a small holding cell, with a bench along one wall, and a toilet the corner.
They unlocked the door, and shoved him inside.
"Now sit tight, while we get in touch with soone who can co for you," said Michelle, as she locked the door behind them.
----
"Well, well, well. We’ve got ourselves a VIP," said the desk Sergeant, as Michelle and Camille re-entered the booking area, to find Principal Tara Randall on her mobility scooter, with Annette, Sky, Mikaela, and various other school staff.
"I want to see my son," said Tara, her tone sharp.
"He’s in the holding cell, knock yourself out," replied Michelle, nodding towards the cells.
Tara rolled over to the cell, and peered through the bars.
She opened the door to the cell, and rolled inside.
"Jamal! Oh my God, what happened to you?" she exclaid, as she embraced her son.
"Mommy, they hurt !" sobbed Jamal, burying his face in her shoulder.
"Don’t worry baby, Mommy’s here now," said Tara, stroking his hair.
She turned to the desk Sergeant.
"You will release him to , and I want to file a formal complaint against these officers for police brutality," she said, pointing at Michelle and Camille.
"Nope. He’s staying here until a judge posts bail for him," replied the Sergeant.
"Excuse ? On what grounds?" asked Tara, her tone sharp.
"He’s being charged with reckless endangernt, resisting arrest, and disorderly conduct," replied the Sergeant.
"That’s ridiculous! He was just riding his bike!" protested Tara.
"Save it for the judge, now here’s the paperwork you’ll need to do the whole complaint thing, and if you want to post bail, you’ll need to go to the courthouse," said the Sergeant, handing her so forms.
Tara glared at Michelle and Camille.
"This isn’t over," she said, before rolling out of the station, followed by her entourage.
Mikaela looked back at Michelle and Camille, and gave them a small wave, which they returned.
"Looks like we’ve stepped in activist shit," said Michelle.
"Yeah. Hey Sergeant? Are we in trouble?" asked Camille.
"Nah, you girls are fine. Those idiots will soon learn that the SZPD doesn’t take shit from activists who co in bad faith," he reassured them.
User Comments
0 comments from readers