It was 2am when he'd been awaken.
He rubbed his sleepy eyes, hurrying to his cruiser.
December air stung his cheeks, chasing away the remaining tiredness from his body.
"What's the problem?" He spoke into his walkie talkie, while the car drifted back down the driveway, crunching over the ice.
"You're needed at the bridge. Someone's in trouble." The female voice replied.
He felt his adrenaline pick up, and the car lurched forward, swerving on the ice for a moment before righting itself. He realized he had been gripping the door handle, and let go, embarrassed.
He wanted to ask what was going on at the bridge, but he could see it's huge silver silhouette in the distance. The car was moving faster now, and he could feel his heart hammering. He wished he could slow down just a bit, but he knew it was his job to help. So he said nothing, gripping the handle.
Finally the bridge loomed ahead, "I see the bridge. Is someone hurt?" He asked, feeling his excitement growing.
"You are very brave officer." Was all the female voice offered. He thought he could hear her crying, and wondered why.
Someone must be in trouble. He thought.
The cars engine roared as it shot towards the start of the bridge. He cried out when it slammed against the side.
"It's ok. Almost there" The female said.
Her voice comforted him, but only slightly. The car was moving too fast. He squeezed his badge, struggling to calm himself as the car made it to the top of the bridge. He frowned. No one. No cars, no other police. Just the steel girders coming closer, faster.
He wanted to scream, but he was brave. He was a police officer.
He looked up into the mirror, catching the females eyes. She was crying, but smiled too. She wasn't wearing her seat belt, he noticed. He opened his mouth to tell her, to remind her that he too was unbuckled and that it was against the law. But no words came. The sound of crunching metal exploded through the icy night, drowning out the officers screams.
**
The officer made his way down the slippery embankment, already steeling himself for what he would see. The car was little more than pieces, smashed on the rocks.
He could see what remained of the driver, part of her intact, still gripping the wheel.
The boy was far less easy to behold. His little body, what was left of it, was still curled in the backseat, crushed like the rest of the vehicle.
The officer shook his head, taking in the grim scene. It was always hard when he got calls that involved children.
He never understood what made people do the things they did.
When he saw the tiny plastic police badge bent on the ground a few feet from the wreckage, he nearly cried.
The officer bent his head.
"Officer down." He whispered.
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