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Witch(10)

By:Tim O'Rourke


“But...I’d been drinking. I wasn’t looking where...” I mumbled.

“The horse got scared and...” My father cut dead as we were joined on the road by another patrol car.

He let go of my shoulders and headed towards the two officers who were climbing out. They hadn’t arrived with lights and sirens blazing, but silently. I recognised the two cops who got out of the car. Mac and Woody. Both had been friends of my father’s for as long as I could remember. They had all been recruits together. They had visited our home often over the years with their wives and children. My father was now their sergeant.

“Mac!” my father hollered. “Bring me a breathalyser.”

Mac reached back into the car, then came trotting over to us, Woody by his side. Both of them looked at me, the blood congealing on my forehead, then at the accident.

“Jeezus,” Woody whistled between his front teeth.

My father took the breathalyser from Mac, then placing a white plastic tube onto the top of it, he took a deep breath. He placed the tube into his mouth and blew until the little green light flashed on the front of the device.

“Okay, so you blew a green,” my father said openly in front of the other two officers.

“But...” I started, feeling confused and a little shocked by what my father had just done.

“She blew a green, isn’t that right?” my father said, looking at his two friends.

“She sure did,” Mac said, taking the breathalyser from my father.

“But you blew for me,” I stammered.

“That blow to her head must be worse than it looks,” Woody cut in. “Your girl is hallucinating, Richard.”

“Both of you saw her blow a green, right?” my father said, fixing his friends with his grey stare.

“That’s what’s going down in our statements,” Mac said.

“See,” my father said, looking back at me. “Two witnesses saw you blow a green, and not just any old witnesses. Two police officers. Looking back at Woody, my father said, “Go and switch on the sirens and lights on my daughter’s squad car.”

Woody nodded, and ran over to the car which still lay on its side. He bent down and reached in, and almost at once, strobes of blue and red light filled the darkening sky and the whoop-whoop sound of sirens filled the air.

“I’ll never get used to how loud those freaking things are,” Mac said, sealing the breathalyser, just in case it was needed at a later date.

“I know, they are so loud, it makes you wonder how these drifters didn’t hear them,” my father said, looking me straight in the eyes.

“Scared the shit out of the horse by the looks of things,” Mac added with a knowing smile.

It was like the three of them were reading from some well-rehearsed script. Although my father was desperately trying to get me out of trouble, I couldn’t help but feel shocked by his deceitfulness. I had never seen this side of him before.

My father must have seen the disbelief in my eyes, as he came towards me and took me by the shoulders again. “You are a copper,” he said. “If the truth came out about what really happened here, you could go to prison for a very long time for D and D and causing death by dangerous driving. Is that what you want?”

Numbly, I shook my head.

“Do you want to ruin your life because of a few nobodies who got in the way?” he asked me, his eyes never leaving mine.

I shook my head. “No,” I whispered.

“You’re a copper,” he reminded me again with a squeeze of my shoulder. “We’re all coppers here and we look after one another. We stick together. Right?”

“Right,” I nodded slowly, now not sure if I were more in shock at what my father had just done or because of the accident itself.

“Good,” my father, said. Looking at Woody, he added, “Do me a favour and take my daughter home. Then get back here double quick.”

“No probs, Rich,” Woody said, taking me by the arm.

“Right, let’s get the circus going,” my father said to Mac.

Mac nodded back at my father, then took the radio from his belt and spoke into it.

“Control from Romeo-Two, we have an RTA out on the old Buckmore Road. We have at least four fatals...”

Before he could finish, there was the sound of someone or something groaning in pain. All of us looked back at the bodies scattered across the road. My heart leapt into my throat as I saw the old man, with the lined and wrinkled face move. I pulled myself free from Woody’s grasp and raced towards the man. I knelt down beside him and could see that his eyelids were flickering.

“He’s still alive!” I hollered at my father. “Quick! Get an ambulance.”