Dancing With Serpents

He sat before the computer screen readying for his next response to the words typed by his unsuspecting prey. “I take it with me even when I am not working, and I even carry my Badge.” typed Dennis “Den Den” McCabe proudly, as if he were a teenager trying to impress a girl. There was no girl though, on the receiving end of the instant message now being sped across the web to a pair of waiting eyes. “What caliber is it? My dad has a .45 that he let me shoot with him in the woods when I turned 13 last year. Is yours different than that? Can I shoot it someday?” The response that appeared on Dennis McCabe’s screen was just enough to make him get that feeling again. His skin began to feel cold as his heart began to beat a little quicker. As he typed his calculated responses, he had been waiting for an opening such as this. He was waiting for the opportunity to present an invite to his unknowing young friend. Dennis McCabe has been a Boston Cop for almost 20 years. “Den Den” as his buddies call him, because his first wife used to scream to him obnoxiously as she summoned him to return home at the end of his beat with a fresh pack of Newport’s. He would always be visibly annoyed as the raspy and somewhat deep voice on the phone would rap out “Den …..Den, come on...just stop for me would you..” Dennis has seen his share of crime throughout his years on the force. None, however would prepare him for the crimes that began to play out in his own mind nearly ten years ago. About six months after his first vision, his thirst had grown too great to ignore and he began to explore ways to drink. “You know guns are dangerous don’t you?” typed Dennis even quicker now , as if hoping for a response to his message before it was even sent. “Yeah …. But you are a cop. And you can show me the right way.” typed the boy barely fourteen on the other side of the IM window. “I guess I could show you some stuff. But you are really too young. You can’t tell anyone.” “I won’t say anything to anyone. I promise.. I SWEAR” read the message from the boy as if he were typing feverishly before Dennis could change his mind. “but how is no one gonna see us at your range?” “We can’t go to the range.. We will have to meet somewhere else.” as Dennis began to compile his inventory of safe spots to meet the boy. “I can’t meet you somewhere alone.” The boy typed. “Ok... guess we can’t shoot than.” McCabe continued to lure. “Why can’t we go to your range when no one is around?” “If we get caught I could lose my badge.. I just can’t.. Forget it.. Not a good idea anyway.” “Wait. I might know a good spot!” The boy implored. “Where?” McCabe’ s face lit up as he typed. “How about near my house in Watertown? There are some good places there. No one can get hurt and no one will see us.” typed the boy as he plead his case like a seven year old in a toy store. “O.K. I think I know a good spot near you. Do you know where Watertown lake is?” As a smile began to crack on Dennis’ face the screen lit quickly with the fourteen year olds response. “YES .. I know it. WHEN?” “Tomorrow morning.... 6:00am , outside the gate to the pump house. Now go to sleep .see you in the morning.” was the response. “O.K. see ya tomorrow….I won’t tell anybody.” Dennis McCabe stood with his head against the tall Sycamore while he arched his back hoping to loosen his aging muscles. It was 5:40am on Saturday May 19th and Dennis had already been at the gate to the pump house at Watertown lake for almost a half an hour waiting for the fourteen year old he was yet to meet. He thought to himself how good the warm late spring air felt as he watched the sun rising over the eastern part of the lake. He had played out the different scenarios in his mind over the last few hours waiting for the boy to come. He awoke at 3:10 this morning and was unable to go back to bed as the anticipation of meeting the boy was just too much to allow for slumber. He began once again to devise a course of action for what he knew was going to be a very thirst quenching morning. It was almost 5:55am and the sun was totally over the horizon now. Dennis began to look around whenever he heard the slightest noise. He began to wonder if the boy would even show up. He had wished for this opportunity for such a time now and he couldn’t bear for the engagement to be broken. “no way,” he thought out loud. “He’ll be here. He wants to shoot it bad..” referring to the gun he had held up as bait to the teenager so willing to snag the hook. “Wow” thought Dennis as he heard the very loud backfire of an engine close by. He peered in every direction but could see no vehicle responsible for the noise. Thoughts began to race through his mind. “Is it a hunter nearby? Can’t be.. There ain’t nothing around here to hunt. Kids? Maybe.” Dennis staggered away from the gate as another backfire belted through the morning air. Dennis began to feel that cold feeling again. But this time it wasn’t from the anticipation of fulfilling his thirst, and it wasn’t from the thoughts that filled his mind. Dennis McCabe was thrown backwards as the second shot tore through his right shoulder just a foot or so above where the first shot pierced the right side of his abdomen. He had no idea he had been shot the first time. He fell to the ground landing on his stomach. He tried to roll over onto his back because he was having a hard time pulling his gun out of his belt holster. He rolled over yelling in pain as he pulled his body up against the same Sycamore tree he had been stretching against earlier. He managed to free his gun from the holster. He looked down at his once light gray sweatshirt trying to brush away some of the dirt that was stuck to the blood soaked fabric. Another backfire resonated loudly in his ears as he tried to raise his weapon in response. Dennis McCabe again looked down at his newly crimson sweatshirt. “Why can’t I fire back?……. Where is he?” he thought as he glanced over at his hand once holding his police issue 40mm HK. 4 Dancing With Serpents The third shot had all but removed his left hand and all Dennis could do was stare at the blood now dripping quickly from his badly damaged body. He could hear the footsteps getting closer as he faded in and out of consciousness. Dennis McCabe could do nothing to move his body now as he began to breathe more shallow by the second. “What were you going to do with him?” the deep voice questioned McCabe. “You are supposed to protect them from the snakes. How could you do it? How could you hurt a child?” McCabe heard the words but could not respond. “You must be surprised Dennis? Not the way you expected this to go hah?” McCabe could hear the cock of a semi-automatic through the now muffled words.