Wildernesses Justice Tales, volume one

The Sow-metary

Part 1

Officer Dairong Bichson knew he was next. The superstition that he had been trying to block out of his mind, since last summer's incident, was deniably making him a secret believer. 'It's only a silly coincidence,' he reassured himself, although dishonestly. Thinking the power of optimism would help, even in his hopeless case.

One of the most recent, in a long history of murders in the name of law enforcement, his file would remain unblemished; for whatever was good for the image of the badge, was good for him. That was what his superiors echoed every time there was a situation. And there were plenty of them.

All he had to do was let the lawyers do the talking for him and read the prepared statements that they gave him to the media cameras. His, wasn't a drawn out process. In fact, nationwide, the whole ceremony of going through the motions, following deaths involving officers, had shrunken to a tiny blip on the media's radar. They kept as much bad publicity out of the news as possible. He, himself, had never been bothered by reporters until yesterday when the two elderly people, who he thought were church donation collectors, cornered him in the police station.

On his return from a call about a stolen pig, out on a farm, officer Bichson eyed the slow walking couple making their way to the entrance. In a gentlemanly gesture, opening the door for the well dressed pair, he commented on the ladies beautiful hat while noticing the strange pin on the old man's coat lapel. Looked military, like one of his father's war medals. Once inside, Bichson reached for his wallet and produced a single bill. Maybe a donation would help his own cause, but they chuckled and waved it off. "That's nice of you son, though we're not here on that kind of business," she spoke to him with a steady and sincere grin. We're here from The Watch, we're looking to interview someone named Bichson about The Cliff Curse. Do you know him? the old man following up, catching Dairong off guard. Turning quickly to get his name tag out of their view, he began walking to the desk area, looking back at them, "I'll see if anyone's seen her," he yelled over his shoulder, dipping through another door behind the lobby counter.

We thought you were a man! they both shouted after him. But he was gone. So were they.

Reaching the sanctuary of the back room operations desk, he could see from the monitors that they had managed to make it out a lot faster than they had come in. Damn reporters...

Feargunson City Police Department was a small, two story square building located behind City Hall, in the town's central civic centre. Some several hours away from the state's capital metropolitan city, St.Louis, the single and meager Feargunson station had earned itself an infamous reputation following the wrongful shooting death of an unarmed teenager by one of its dozen or so officers. A type of incident usually reserved for the larger urban settings, that had set the scene for scores of confrontations between the public and law enforcement, over the past few months.

The media machines were doing their part to squeeze every bit of the actions and reactions from both sides, and some would say even stirring up strife with their provocative bellowing of tensions. They must have been from another city, like the rest of the drama hungry press. He'd never heard of The Watch.

Mike Brown was a name his commander and the state lawyers made him believe he would forget after no charges were brought against him for ending the young person's life on that tragic day. They sprinkled the all too familiar seasonings on the events, cooking the high schooler up to be nothing short of a psychopathic terrorist. Disseminating the facts of the case in their own favour. It had worked in dozens of cities across the country. Creating the perfect impunity for officers everywhere, whenever and regardless of the socio-economics involved.

Dairong Bichson had no problem with being let to walk free for his involvement, and at one point boasted a clear conscious regarding the matter. Not until the mysterious officer disappearances started to happen. The only clues were recovered from the bottoms of the cliffs. Articles from the missing police officers from different cities, departments and precincts.