5. A Man With A Mini Sledgehammer
I work armed security for a campus police department. Most of the department are police with a few of my type. In my state, I’m considered a non-sworn law enforcement and to someone not in the industry have most of the same authority as a police officer. There are differences but for this it is pedantic.
I had a guy walk into the area where I was eating my dinner with a cut down the side of his face. So, naturally, I shift into help mode and am all about getting this guy first aid. He told me someone had just stolen his car and cut his face. So I called for a police officer to handle the felony report and medics for this guys face. Then comes that awkward moment of waiting while this guy bleeds all over himself and the two of us just staring at each other…and I hate awkward moments. My patrol car had trauma kit for an active shooter situation. We’re only supposed to use it on fellow officers but fuck that this guy is bleeding all down his shirt. So I offered him that kit with the caveat that I’m not an EMT and he accepted. So I hopped up and went to the door that my car was parked at. Right when I got to the door, this guy was lagging behind me and I don’t like people behind me so I stopped and tried to get him to sit down and wait for me to get the kit. That’s when he said, “Officer, I have a problem”. I don’t remember hearing anything after that so I guess my auditory memory shut off.
Right after he said that he conjured up a mini sledgehammer. I have absolutely no idea where it came from it was just there in his hand and he was raising it up high. I dropped what felt like a slow breathy “ooohhh fuck me” and I started backing up and drawing my pistol. The situation took a pretty big spiral downward after that because by backing up I tripped over some furniture and fell down between an ottoman and a fireplace grate with my weapon side down to the ground. He was charging through with that hammer up so I couldn’t stand up or I’d be in range so I just dove away…into a corner. He plowed through the furniture and I was still on the ground.
Right then I cracked. Nowhere to go, no distance to create, the guy I was going to help was going to kill me. All I wanted to do was curl into a ball, cry, and beg for my life. Once that flash of pathetic whimpyness hit, I became pissed. Absolutely livid. I was mad at myself for giving up. Mad at this asshole who thought he could kill me. I’ve never, ever felt that kind of rage before. I got into a kneeling position and then bum rushed him. I grabbed the wrist with the hammer and shook the shit out of it and he dropped the hammer. Then, in my rage, all I wanted to do was rip his scraggy beard off his fucking face. My memory blanks out right about there and kicks back in with me leaning waaaayyy back against a high desk and this guy over top of me.
To shorten it up, after that he pawed at my holster, tried to grab my neck with both hands, eventually pulled a picture-perfect takedown and got full mount. Eventually, I was on my feet, grappling out in the open with no furniture or anything blocking me and I knew I was too gassed to keep going. There was no hammer anymore but I couldn’t keep fighting the grapple fest that we were doing. I shoved him hard, drew my gun, pulled the trigger, CLICK…misfire. Hands down the biggest what the fuck moment I’ve ever had. I managed to shove him again, wrack the slide, then fired two rounds. My auditory memory kicked back in and he said, “Alright, I’m done, I’m done.” He kind of fell to the floor and was flopping around trying to get back up. I got my radio up and running since the fight knocked it off me and called for backup.
He had a hand down at his waistline and I could see blood up on his shoulder. I just kept my gun on him and waited for backup just trying to breathe and not puke up the food I was just eating. My backup arrived, told me to go outside…where I immediately puked up spaghetti and Lemmon pepper chicken.
The guy died before the medics could stabilize him in the room. From the time I called for police and medics to the time I called in shots fired, it was three minutes. Take away the awkward staring, me going for a first aid kit, and the radio pick up the whole fight was probably just under two minutes.
