The Storm: Part Six

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John turned his cruiser around the next corner and came onto the Wildrow Bridge. The bridge ran over Orin River which was the lifeline of the city. The countryside lay on the other side. Wildrow Bridge was considered as the city limit. No one generally travelled on foot across the bridge. It was a highway made especially for trucks and goods vehicles.

John drove his cruiser to the entrance of the bridge and slowly parked it near the narrow footpath, which was rarely used. He climbed out and started walking towards the low railing. It was cold. He tucked his right hand in his police jacket, a torch in his left. He looked over the railing and shone the torch down at the murky river. A strong current was flowing.

It must be the storm.

As he was about to turn around towards his vehicle, he had a sudden intuition that he should walk the whole length of the bridge. He had no idea, but he felt that he really needed to do it. His intuition had always been trustworthy to him, and he heeded. He started walking along the bridge towards the other end, shining his torch in front of him.

He noticed a figure near the middle of the bridge.

What the hell was someone doing here in the middle of the night in such bad weather?

He shuffled his torch to his right hand and slowly drew out his revolver, readying it with one hand. He had learnt the trick from Uncle George. As he slowly edged nearer he saw that it was a teenage boy, and he was standing on top of the railing getting ready to jump.

What in God’s name!

He quickened his pace, screaming aloud, “Freeze!” He seemed too preoccupied to listen.

“FREEZE!”

The boy slowly bent his knees, ready to jump.

God dammit!

He ran towards the boy and aimed to lunge at his legs, planning to knock him over in such a way that we would topple from the railing onto the highway and not on the other side.

The boy jumped backwards onto the highway instead of jumping forward. But John was already at full sprint and couldn’t possibly stop from colliding with the boy. The boy suddenly turned around, noticing John for the first time, and that too at a charging John, his eyes wide in surprise.

John hit him hard on the chest instead of his legs as he had intended, and he saw the boy fly about a meter or so before collapsing unconscious on the road.

Shit! John regretted that he hadn’t lost his touch.

***