"Wheeler?!"

I lean my head, and upper body, into the front door. I have no intention of stepping one foot into that house. But Deputy Wheeler is nowhere to be seen. The sight of a trail of blood on the floor causes my entire body to stiffen.

"Oh god!" I whisper into the still air. Long after the firefight is over; not a single bird or squirrel makes a sound. You could hear a pin drop, from a hundred yards, if you took the time to listen. "Deputy Wheeler? Ya still in here?!"

Still no answer.

"Aw, damn!" I take a step inside the house. And then another. I am careful not to step on any blood; or otherwise further contaminate the crime scene. "Deputy Wheeler?! Wheeler? Where'd you go?"

I finally find Deputy Wheeler in the large laundry room-- towards the back of the home. He is kneeling in front of a trunk heaping with clothes. One knee rests on the floor. While the other knee is bent at a ninety degree angle. He almost looks as if he is declaring his passion to the one he loves most in this world. Instead, he is sobbing. One hand softly caressing the forehead of a small child lying amongst the pile of clothes. It is evident that the child was dumped there--after being subjected to unspeakable torture. And probably at the hands of someone she loved dearly. Her own father. The shock of it is still etched upon the poor child's face.

"Deputy? Deputy Wheeler? Mel...He's dead. He died about ten minutes ago. Have you heard from the other officers? Deputy Nesmith? Anything on the radio?"

Wheeler's voice is almost inaudible, and devoid of emotion. He doesn't even look in my direction. He continues to stroke the forehead of the small child.

"No. Not a sound. With whatever interference these bastards rigged up all over this place...We wouldn't hear them! We'll have to wait for them to arrive before we know if they even heard us. But I've been trying my radio every few minutes anyway."

I gingerly step forward and place a hand on Deputy Wheeler's right shoulder.

"You'll be alright, Deputy! We got the bastards. These babies can rest in peace. They got justice. You'll be alright."

Deputy Wheeler inhales sharply and the sobbing returns. His shoulders heave with the effort of trying to hold them in. He uses his thumb to wipe at a spot of blood on the deceased child's face.

"Loranne and I...I know they don't like to see deputies dating within the department. But, Loranne and I...We've known each other since we were tikes. We nearly won Homecoming King and Queen together. I love Loranne. But, for all I know...She could be dead."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Wheeler's voice trails off and he looks down at the floor.

"You don't know she's dead, Deputy. She was alive when they left."

Deputy Wheeler's eyes flash as he makes eye contact.

"That was over an hour ago! And like you just said...That asshole Mel just died. Oh god! I want to talk to my Loranne! I should have said I loved her before I let Richard carry her out of here. Oh god! I should have told her how much I love her. We were making plans to get married this summer. Nothing fancy. Only close family and friends. Loranne said she wanted children. She was afraid to wait too long. I told her, I'd love her regardless. I look at this innocent baby...And I ask myself...How did we not know John Crawford, and his bastard of a son, were so evil? How did such evil go unnoticed?"

Deputy Wheeler takes the small child's tiny left hand, in both of his own, and begins to rub it. It is as if he is trying to infuse both life and warmth into the dead child.

"Dammit, James. They shoved melted candles into some of the children's eye sockets. And I found Melba Crawford impaled...With her entrails cut out! I felt like that crazy kid on Jeepers Creepers...When he was trying to describe what he saw. Except I wouldn't quite call it the Sistine Chapel...It's more like something out of Dante's Inferno. 'Cause I'm pretty sure every single one of these people in here...Including these babies...Was alive for every minute of their torture. The only person who may have been shown mercy was Leslie. I think she tried to stop John from completing his mission. He must have got so mad, he snapped her neck. It's like Reverend Cox was saying a few Sundays ago. That there are demons walking amongst us. I mean, how else does someone explain this? How do you do something like this to someone you love? To someone you claim to love? I would never think to lay a hand on Loranne. Or any of our children. How is evil like this allowed to exist? Such animals! I just...I can't anymore! The moment I hear Loranne's okay...I'm handing in my badge. I can't handle anymore of this!"

Emotion chokes off my voice and I can only manage a deep croak.

"Then...The bad guys win, Deputy."

Deputy Wheeler once again meets my gaze, and I am able to find my voice.

"We put down two really bad guys today...'cause you were here. You may have saved Loranne's life. We couldn't have got her to that car; if you hadn't put down that Crawford animal. We were pinned down. We needed you out there, today. Loranne, needed you! This town needs you. For every person like you...Who isn't kicking in the bad guys' doors...The world is a scarier place."

Averting his gaze, Deputy Wheeler strokes the small child's forehead again. He remains silent.

"So...How long do we wait here? I mean...To see if the cavalry's comin'? What if Nesmith's car stalled somewhere? What if they didn't make it very far?"

"It's going to be dark in about an hour," Deputy Wheeler states quietly. "I suggest we go before then. Make sure any law enforcement comin' up here can see who and what we are. If we don't hear sirens in forty-five minutes...We go."

I nod and squeeze Deputy Wheeler's right shoulder.

"I'll check out the cars. See which one is running the best. Check the engine blocks, and vital components, for damage. See you in forty-five."

Deputy Wheeler says nothing. He lowers his head, and appears to pray over the deceased child, as I leave the room.