Page 3 of Strays
I’m already moving when Shane’s bullet enters the back of the man’s skull. The kid’s scream is raw as the man’s body collapses, dragging the boy down with him.
But I’m fast. I lunge, catching the kid before the man’s full weight crashes into him. We hit the floor hard, momentum carrying us forward, my arms around him.
He’s still screaming when I hear Jay’s voice through the comms: “Suspect down. Hostage secured. Request EMS entry.”
A minute later, SWAT finally arrives, and we hold our position until they finish clearing the floor, the kid still screaming, obviously in shock.
The man’s body lies awkwardly in the hallway, blood pooling around him.
Then EMS rushes in and surrounds us, and I hand the kid off, finally silent.
My eyes meet Shane’s, and I give him a nod. We all know what’s coming, but I want to reassure him he did the right thing, no matter what. He nods back, chin held high.
Good.
The lieutenant steps into the hallway, flanked by two other officers, eyes locked on us, disapproval written all over their faces. Shane immediately ejectsthe mag of his Glock 34, racks the slide, clears the chamber, and hands the gun over, grip first, slide locked back.
The lieutenant takes the weapon and drops it into an evidence bag without a word. Then he looks at us, jaw tight. “Wrap it up. Patrol will take you back to Nine. Your chain of command can deal with you.”
We follow him out of the school building.
The press is already swarming, but now there are a lot more cruisers and officers, and the perimeter’s under control. Everyone is being held behind the tape: reporters, kids, parents, and every kind of gawker you can imagine.
He leads us to a cruiser parked on the lawn, flanked by two officers. All three of us wince at the sight.
I knew they weren’t going to let us drive our own truck back to the station, but I was hoping they wouldn’t cram us into the back of a Ford Interceptor. We clearly don’t fit. Shane’s the shortest of us at 6’5”, and I’m the lightest at 275 pounds.
“Sir,” I start, “could you send only one officer with us so one of us can ride shotgun? Or maybe split us between two cars?”
He doesn’t answer. Just holds out his hand.
“Keys to the truck. Someone’ll take it back to your station.”
My brothers glance at me, annoyed. I get it; even asking was dumb.
Humans don’t care about us. Never have. We’ve been working at the PD for six years, and all the furniture is still human-sized. We’re always crammed into chairs too narrow, crouched at desks that dig into our knees, trying to move through spaces too small for bodies like ours.
We end up bumping into things, knocking stuff over, breaking shit constantly. They say it’s because we have inferior motor coordination compared to humans, but that’s bullshit and they know it. They just hate how much smaller they are than us, so they keep inventing stupid theories about why we can’t function properly in those shoeboxes they call offices.
Even our patrol car is a constant endurance test. We take turns sitting in the back, but the front’s not much better.
I sigh and reach into my chest pocket, where I keep the truck keys clipped to the flap, and hand them over.
One officer opens the rear door of the cruiser; the other steps aside like he’s waiting for us to perform a trick.
We don’t move at first.
Then, Shane exhales through his nose. “Let’s get this over with.”
He ducks down. It takes effort. He folds himself in half, shoulder first, twisting to squeeze into the narrow backseat like he’s loading himself into a crate. His knees hit the back of the front seat before he’s even fully in.
Jay follows, grumbling under his breath the whole time, and ends up pressed against Shane, shoulder to shoulder, their legs jammed tight together with noroom to move.
I go last. I have to crouch low, back bent at an awful angle, and wedge in sideways before dropping into the remaining sliver of seat. My head bumps the ceiling as I try to straighten up. No chance.
The door shuts with a dull thunk.
If Shane were human, he’d be up for a commendation instead of being treated like this. He saved that kid, and we all know it. But because we’re aegis and not human, none of that matters. The only thing that does is that he disobeyed a direct order from a human superior.
