LOUISIANA HYDRA - SAMPLE

William Stinson sat in an outdoor cafe named ‘Open City at the National Cathedral,’ situated oddly enough, directly across the street from the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. It was an unseasonably sunny and warm Saturday morning in October, and William was enjoying a coffee, reading a novel, and feeling genuinely content. The patio hummed busily with fall tourists taking in Mother Nature’s new colours as she changed her seasonal look. William lowered his book onto his thigh, brought his coffee cup up and took a small sip, suspecting the brew was still too hot for a sampling much bigger than that. As he set the cup down, he glanced at the cafe and its patrons. It seemed many people here today could only appreciate the natural beauty of this location by snapping a shot of their faces mugging for the camera, while the natural beauty acted as a complimentary background. Shaking his head, William brought his book back up.

 

An attractive woman arrived at the cafe on the arm of an older man. He was far too formal for the time and place. She was dressed stylishly, but not so much that she stood out. She was about five feet four inches but stood slightly taller in her modest heels. Her hair was jet black and framed the slender features of her face perfectly. She seemed almost to glide as she entered the patio area. The two took a table just to William’s left, and he looked up briefly as they were being seated. She stood facing William, and they shared a short glance as she took her chair. William’s eyes went back to his book, silently appreciating her beauty. A waiter emerged, quickly took the couple’s order, and disappeared into the main building just as quickly.

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William lost himself in his book. He had just taken the last sip of his coffee, and catching a passing waiter’s eye, he motioned for a top-up. Waiting for his coffee to be refreshed, he found himself briefly distracted by a strange puffing sound and the feeling of something landing on the back of his hand. He glanced up to the sky, then down at his hand. He noticed what appeared to be a drop of blood. Confused, he reached for his napkin and began wiping at the spot, glancing again at the sky. Then, he heard an odd noise from the table next to him. Looking across, he could see the face of the woman at the next table carrying a surprised look while staring straight ahead at her acquaintance. William turned his head and saw the man’s hand reaching for his throat as if to adjust his tie. His tie, however, was now awash in blood, gushing silently from a bullet hole in his throat. William stopped wiping the blood from the back of his hand, struggling to process what he saw. A second puffing sound and the man’s head snapped back, and his hand dropped lifelessly to his side. The woman blinked and then looked at William with a puzzled look.

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The cafe erupted in screams, and people lurched in every direction, frantically searching for the closest available exit or shelter. Cups of half-finished coffee, plates and baskets of sweet rolls and muffins began tumbling onto the interlocking cobbles of the patio. William’s gaze had not moved from the woman’s, and over the screams, he heard her say, “I don’t…” and her voice trailed off. 

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William reacted in something like a calm but focused manner. He stood, stepped over to the woman with his hand extended and said, “We need to leave.” 

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Her gaze moved from her recently expired acquaintance to William’s hand, to William’s face. She quickly gathered her purse and allowed William to guide her out of the cafe. William couldn’t say for sure, but as she stepped away from her table, he felt confident he heard a ‘clank’ as if something had hit her heavy metal chair. He turned and noticed the chair had tipped forward against the table.  Rather than head out the main entrance toward the cathedral, William guided them out the back of the patio to the park. They did not break into a full sprint, but they were moving with an unmistakable urgency toward the shelter of the trees and away from the apparent direction the bullets had come from. And, of course, the growing pandemonium at the cafe.

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William walked with the woman to a knee-high stone fence at the edge of an old amphitheatre, where he motioned for her to sit. She did so as if in a dream. William continued to act as if he was in some form of auto-pilot mode and began searching his pockets. He found the cafe napkin that he’d wiped the first droplet of blood off his hand. He had stuffed it into his pocket for no reason he could think of. He pulled out his phone, opened the camera and inspected his face for any traces of blood. Finding nothing, William pocketed his phone and turned his attention to the woman. He could see she had been hit with a spray of blood, as nearly every inch of her beautiful fall wrap had been marked in some way. Looking up, he gently put two fingers under her chin, and she allowed him to turn her face to the right and the left. He spotted only a few drops of blood on her cheek. He wet the napkin with his tongue like a parent preparing to clean a toddler’s face. As he began to reach forward, the woman put up a hand, said “No,” and took the napkin from William. 

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“Where?” she asked. 

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William gently placed a finger on two places on her cheek. “Here and here.” 

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She re-adjusted the napkin, licked it herself and wiped away the blood. Then, looking back at him, she asked, “Good?” 

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William nodded.

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The woman then seemed to take a moment to evaluate her current situation. She was looking around and suddenly appeared to notice for the first time William had guided them to a relatively remote area of the park. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she stared at her feet.

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“If this is where you’ll finish the job, can I ask that you not shoot me in the head? A lady’s vanity, you understand.” 

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William held her gaze quizzically, began to say something, and seemed to think better of it. He crossed his arms and began, “I have no intention of killing you, as I thought might be clear from my decision to shuttle you away from the location where bullets suddenly began flying around.” 

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William held her gaze for a beat and then continued. “Now that we have that out of the way, I have a question.” 

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She gave him an unreadable look. “Go ahead.”

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“Thank you. Now, who was that who was just shot at your table?”

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“I fail to see how that is any of your business. And I imagine you will hear soon enough on the news.”

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William was surprised and a little bit annoyed by her non-answer. They stared at each other for another moment until William stood and made a show of brushing off his jacket and pants. “Well, I thought I would have more questions to ask, but maybe it’s best if we just focus on what to do next. I don’t have much experience with this type of thing. You?”

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“What kind of thing is that to say? Of course, I don’t have experience in this kind of thing. Jesus Christ!”

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William immediately regretted his words, held up his palms, and, in a half-whisper, said, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Can we stay calm and determine if anyone might be coming after us before we start bickering again?”

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That brought them both back into focus. Then, they both fell silent and began looking and listening to the world around them. 

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The woman tilted her head and said, “I think I can hear sirens coming our way.” 

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William looked up and, after a moment, said, “I think you’re right.” It suddenly dawned on William that it had probably been little more than a few minutes since they made their hasty exit from the cafe. But, of course, it was going to take some time for the police even to become aware of the shooting. 

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He turned to her and said, “OK. I honestly have no idea what the right thing to do is here. But I am sure there will be an army of cops and other assorted emergency people swarming this area any minute. I bet the moment the first cop sees your friend, no offence, they’re going to call in SWAT or whatever they call it. They will be looking for bad guys, and I don’t want to get shot because they think I’m one of them.”

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She took that in as the gravity of the situation worked through her mind. “So what do we do?” Her eyes were darting around even more now.

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William leaned toward her. “I think we might do well to call 911 and tell them who we are and that we were in the cafe when the shooting occurred. Then, maybe they will send someone out to collect us. Or at least they might not shoot first and ask questions later.” 

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She gave William a bewildered look but eventually shrugged. “Yes, I guess that is probably the best way to go. Do you want me to call?”

 

William shook his head, reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone again. “I got it.” 

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William punched in the three digits and waited. Eventually, a voice came on. “911. Please state your emergency.” 

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William took a deep breath and said. “Yes, this is William Stinson. I was at the Open City Cafe shooting just a few minutes ago. I ran off into the park. We’ve been hiding here for a while but can hear the sirens coming now. We don’t want to get shot by accident.” 

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William could hear the clatter of fingers on a keyboard. The operator continued. “Can you describe your location, please?” 

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“We’re in the amphitheatre behind the cafe. I don’t remember the name of it. We’re sitting on the top row.”

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“Can you confirm who you are with, please?”

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William stammered for a moment. Then, “Uhhh, hold on. I’m going to put you on speakerphone.” He pressed the speaker button, then turned to the woman and said, “They want your name. I’m sorry. I should have asked.”

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The corner of her mouth curled up a tiny bit, and she placed a hand on his forearm. “That’s OK.” Then, on the phone, she said, “My name is Stephanie Borden. Mr. Stinson helped me get out of the cafe.”

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The operator asked, “Just to clarify, you two do not know each other. You just left together?”

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Stephanie answered, “That’s correct.”

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“Were you both alone at the cafe?”

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Stephanie paled a little but answered, “Mr. Stinson was alone. I was sitting with a friend at the table next to him.”

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“And where is your friend at this time?”

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Stephanie paused for a moment. William looked like he was about to answer for her when she held up a hand and said, “He is lying in the center of the cafe with two bullet holes in him. I’m pretty sure he is dead.”

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Both William and Stephanie could still hear the sounds of the keyboard clattering as they sat in silence, with Stephanie’s proclamation hanging in the air above them after being said aloud for the first time. Then, finally, the operator said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Ma’am. May I ask if either of you has been physically hurt in any way?”

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William said, “No. I think we’re fine. Just very scared and upset.”

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“I can only imagine, Sir. OK, I’ve dispatched the police to your location. Can you describe yourselves and what you are wearing so the officers can identify you?”

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William described himself, and Stephanie described herself. The operator asked for additional clarifications and said, “OK. Now, I can’t tell you what direction the officers will approach you from, but they will identify themselves as soon as they see you. So please do not be alarmed, but I would like to ask you, once the police have identified themselves, place your hands in the air where the officers can see them, and then call out your names as loudly as you can. I’ll ask you to leave your hands in the air until the officers tell you to do otherwise. I will remain on the call with you until they arrive. It’s probably best to keep me on speakerphone. Any questions?”

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William and Stephanie looked at each other with something approaching worry on their faces but responded almost in unison, “No questions.”

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William and Stephanie sat quietly waiting, with only the non-stop rattling of the keyboard echoing through the phone. William and Stephanie watched the perimeter of the amphitheatre closely, trying to spot the approaching police. They both physically jumped when, from behind, a strong, deep voice yelled, “Hands in the air! Do not move!” 

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It was to be what William and Stephanie would eventually view as the beginning of the end of what might have passed for unique but generally everyday lives at one time.

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