Rush

By: Ace Z. Teller

It was a peaceful evening, the twilight just setting its vivid golden aura around town. The autumn trees gave the scene a warm appearance with its reds and oranges. The same could not be said about the crisp temperature, which I found to be rather offsetting. The wrinkly, dried up leaves on the sidewalk made a crunch with every step I took. I relaxed at the sound and tried to make the most of it by trudging along slowly and steadily, which I don’t do quite often anymore…

It was a rush out of college and even more of a rush out of law school. I hold up a job in a rather famous law firm now, and I don’t feel that I have a lot of time to just… relax anymore, which is surprising, because I’m only 24 having missed two years in law school. I can thank Keegan for that.

Keegan Watkins is my employer and a very renowned attorney. Most known for his versatility in the law. He has been in cases involving everything from divorce to homicide, and usually doesn’t lose. He also was my personal employer, and to be honest, that was a rush too.

It was when I was 22 and just starting law school. We were to watch a real trial and how it preceded. We sat comfortably in the back not in any way blocking someone’s vision. The trial was about a family massacre. There were six people in the family. All of them were shot in the front of the neck, cutting through the throat and spinal cord before the bullet leaving the body. All except for one, the sixteen-year-old boy named Charles who was obviously the accused. His fingerprints were found all over the gun that was used to murder the family, and a total of six shots were fired from said gun. Five bullets were found in the beds the family members were sleeping in. But the problem was the sixth bullet. It was nowhere to be found.

Without that crucial piece of evidence, the jury was quite convinced that the client was guilty and to be put on death row. The defense attorney, Keegan at that time, was looking rather apprehensive. A witness had also just finished testifying as to what he heard coming from the house as well.

“…And then there was a sixth shot. But I didn’t hear any noise after the shot like I did from the other five shots.” The witness affirmed with a nod “I hope that clarifies things here.”

Something still seemed odd though. At least to me it did. But the witness heard all this from across the street from the murder scene. It’s not a stretch to say he heard six gunshots, but how he heard noise from all five of the victims after being shot in the throat… It didn’t add up. Not to mention the sixth shot!

The defense (Keegan) still looked worried. Did he really believe this adolescent was innocent? Even after all this evidence pointed plainly and obviously to the defendant?

Of course he did.

He finally spoke and said, “The defense would like to request a ten minute recess.”

“What for?” boomed his Honor “Is the defense stalling the time of this courtroom?”

“Not at all, Your Honor. The defense would like to call upon an assistant of his,” He replied calmly, although a bit shakily. “It’s quite urgent.”

His Honor pondered the notion for what seemed like fifteen minutes and then replied, “Very well, Mr. Watkins. The court shall resume in ten minutes.”

“I object this notion, your Honor,” The prosecution retaliated, “Is it not obvious that the defense is stalling as you yourself said?”

“Well, Mr. Banks, if you are confident in your case as you plainly stated earlier, why not let the defense struggle for a little while longer?” The Judge asked smartly. The prosecutor thought this over for a while and then shrugged looking a tad anxious.

“Well, why not?” the newly introduced Mr. Banks replied.

“Good. The court suspends the trial of Charles Jordan for a brief recess!” The Judge disclosed and then struck his gavel on the sound block. Court would investigate further after ten minutes.

Our class went out into the halls of the grand courthouse and relaxed a bit. I was sitting by myself on one of the many chairs in the hallway texting a friend of mine about how mind-numbingly BORING this case was starting to get. If I didn’t see some yelling, I probably would have yelled myself.

It was when I sent this message that my professor tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Someone wants to see you,” as he pointed towards the defendants lobby.

I got up and put my phone back into my pocket and walked towards the door. I didn’t really know what to expect as I opened it. Keegan glanced in my direction as he continued to talk to Charles. When he finished, he turned towards me and walked over.

“Are you the one who asked for me?” I asked not knowing what was really going on.

“Yes,” He replied, “My name is Keegan Watkins, attorney at law. Your professor recommended your help. Said you have an infallible sense of logic. I need someone to help solve the mystery of this sixth shot and its bullet while I try and make sense of it to the court. Think you can help out?”

I was flattered to say the least. How I would go about doing this, I didn’t know. I nodded in agreement to his request and he lit up like a light bulb and replied, “Oh, good. Thanks for your help,” as he ambled sprightly away, leaving me without a clue in the world with what to do.

With a tingling sensation and a sly grin on my face, I was raring to go. Where to start was the question at hand though. I decided to see whether Charles knew anything at all. Not that he would; Keegan had probably asked about it. With the mentality that there’s nothing to lose if you try, I spoke across the room to Charles, “Sir? Mr. Charles? Can I ask you a few questions?” only to find that he doesn’t answer. He was facing the right looking at a painting of the Judge.

I furrowed my brow as I tried shouting, “Mr. Charles? Can I ask you some questions?” trying to get his attention. But still, not even a stir.

“MR. CHARLES!” I yelled as both Keegan and Charles flinched and slowly looked my way. “I need to ask you some questions Mr. Charles,” I said in a much softer tone. He coyly walked over and apologized for not listening, “I’m sorry. I haven’t been hearing well as of lately.”

“That’s quite alright,” I said calmly. It took a bit to sink in what he said. When it did, I pondered the thought for a moment and then asked, “When did you notice your hearing isn’t as good as it usually is?”

He tilted his head and looked up as if thinking of exactly when he noticed. He looked back at me and then replied, “Well, It was after I heard one of the shot’s in my house. I didn’t hear any shot’s after that, but I don’t know if that really was the sixth shot, or bad hearing on my part.”

“What were you doing before you heard the ‘sixth’ shot?”

“I was asleep. I don’t know if I heard any of the shot’s beforehand. My left ear was ringing, and my right wasn’t working at all when I got up. There was just one problem. The gun was in my hand.”

I cringed when he said that. But that led to another thought. I asked, “Did you hear ANY other sounds before you couldn’t hear at all? Like before the shot?”

He pondered for a moment and then replied, “Yes. I heard a sharp ‘ping’ sound, like metal on metal. Only it was a split second after the shot.”

"Wait. Do you actually have anything metal in your room?"

"Yes. The only thing I can think of is my bed frame. It's made of solid steel. It's very dense, very expensive, and VERY heavy. It's the reason I sleep in the basement. You know, because of its weight."

I mused the statement for a moment and then shouted to Keegan, “What was the exact gun used in the murder?” He looked up and shouted back, “A .22 revolver.”

If that was true, I had a small theory as to what happened. But I still needed answers. I turned back to Charles and asked, “What did you do with the gun after you saw it in hand?”

“I threw it on my bed. It was burning hot,” He replied.

I smiled. This is good information. I remembered that the butt of the gun used was wood. So already I saw a problem with the facts.

“What part of the gun were you holding?”

“It was the barrel. I’m sure.”

That just confirmed a bit more of my theory.

“One more question,” I asked. “Did you kill your family?”

He looked into my eyes with a firm answer, “No.”

I smiled and left him with a pat on the back. I walked up to Keegan and said, “Hey, can I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course you can! Did you get what you needed out of Charles?”

“I sure did! At least I hope I did. I don’t know. It just seems so farfetched that Charles himself might not believe it,” I replied sounding a bit dejected.

“I’m sure what ever theory you came up with is better than mine. You did hear me earlier, right?” Keegan replied trying to cheer me up.

“You mean when you went on about some mysterious vigilante who…” I started when I was interrupted by Keegan hurriedly saying, “Let’s not get into details!

I chuckled and replied, “Then I won’t waste any time. I only have a few questions anyways.”

“Well,” He said clasping his hands together, “ask away!”

“For starters, what did the witness from earlier say the exact sound they heard was?”

“They said they heard a sound like someone clearing their throat of phlegm. They most likely heard the sound of the dying family members trying to breathe with a throat with a bullet through it.”

I cringed at the now visualizing thought in my head. But I pushed it out of my mind as I remember what Charles said HE heard. Keeping it in the back of my mind, I then said, “Well, Charles said he heard a sharp ‘ping’ sound before he stopped hearing at all. He said that was his bed frame.  

“I know, but there is no evidence if that's what he really heard.”

That’s all I needed to hear. I went to thank Charles, until I smelled his body odor. I didn’t hide it very well either and he noticed and said, “Sorry, I know I smell. But the police haven’t let me change my clothes since they arrested me.” He was wearing jeans and a hoodie with a white t-shirt underneath. I shook his hand and went to tell Keegan what I came up with. I just hope my ‘infallible sense of logic’ helped at all, especially with a life at stake.

________________________________________

“Yes, Your Honor. My assistant and I have devised our own take on the events in the Jordan household,” Keegan said to the Judge.

I was right next to him too. I didn’t know what to think. I was beyond nervous. My first time on the bench was certainly a big event, even if I don’t even have to say anything at all. I just told Keegan my findings and he presents them. I just hope what I told Keegan does the trick.

“Well, tell the court your theory as to what events preceded that night,”

“With pleasure, Your Honor,” Keegan said smoothly. Well, here goes nothing.

“We believe Charles in his earlier statement to the court that he was in fact asleep during the other five shots. But that’s not enough, we also needed to prove that he didn’t shoot the gun,” Keegan started. No objections from the Prosecution. Not yet, anyway.

“Here is our take on the event. Charles, who sleeps in the basement, was oblivious to any of the other shootings for a) sleeping in the basement, and b) being asleep,” Keegan said still with no objection. How odd…

“After the real killer shot the other five family members, he moved down into the basement to make the final shot,” Keegan said as he and I tensed up for the climax of the theory.

“The killer walked into the room of Charles Jordan. He walked up with his final bullet in stock to kill him. But Charles stirred in his sleep for whatever reason and the killer flinched and missed his mark high. He woke up Charles who was now hard of hearing due to the proximity to Charles ears at the time. Charles also said he heard a sharp ‘ping’ sound before he lost almost all hearing. Our first question to the prosecution is this: Why didn’t the witness from earlier hear this sound?” Keegan said while not taking his eyes of the prosecution.

“Simple, Mr. Watkins. Because the witness had already heard the other sound and was only listening for that sound. Selective listening if you will,” The prosecution asserted.

“Be that as it may, Mr. Banks, we still have a tiny bit more to this theory,” Keegan said smartly. “We believe that the killer had actually shot the defendants bed-frame. The bed-frame is made of solid steel; steel hard enough to stop a bullet from a .22 revolver while making some noise in the process. The killer didn’t plan for this and while Charles was still sub-conscious, he put the gun in Charles’ hand and ran. The only way the gun could be held was the barrel; the killer was already holding on the butt of the gun. Charles then got up and noticed the gun. He moved to his other hand because the barrel was too hot to touch. Charles then threw it on his bed because it was still too hot. Seconds later, Charles was found in his bedroom almost magically by the police. Miraculously, seconds after the real killer left.” Keegan let his train of thought wander and asked, “Where exactly were Charles’ fingerprints on the gun, Mr. Banks?”

Mr. Banks cringed visibly but composed himself and said, “Whether the fingerprints are on the barrel, butt, or trigger of the gun is irrelevant. What matters is that the gun has Charles’ fingerprints on it.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Keegan said as if pondering something, “But if what I explained is true, there is no way Charles COULDN’T be hard of hearing. A .22 revolver might give for uncomfortable hearing at arms-length away, for example trying to shoot someone in the throat, but it won’t deafen. Charles here was at near point blank range when the gun was shot; almost proving that he was the intended victim because he is in fact deaf in one ear. We even have a doctor’s notice,” Keegan explained while holding up a paper that was most likely the doctor’s note.

“Almost is the key word, Mr. Watkins. While the fingerprints of Mr. Jordan were found only on the barrel, there are no other fingerprints anywhere. It’s not a stretch to say that five shots could deafen, even at arms-length away,” Mr. Banks countered.

“Another question for the prosecution,” Keegan said, “Why did you say five shots? There were plainly six.”

“But there is no bullet! Not only that, but we checked Charles’ room thoroughly. There were no odd marks on the bed-frame; no burn marks on the bed sheets, and most importantly, no sixth bullet! I admit your story would make sense if there was a bullet to go with it, but as you and I both know, there is no bullet. The witness from earlier must have been hearing things, because bullets don’t just disappear!” Mr. Banks said almost too loudly.

“I’m afraid Mr. Banks is right. Without that crucial piece of evidence, this is all baseless conjecture. I’m SURE the jury wouldn’t believe you without it,” The Judge explained. The Jury perked up at hearing their names said and listened intently. “Well, Mr. Watkins? We’re waiting.”

Keegan started sweating bullets. To bad we couldn’t use one of those… But in all seriousness this was bad. Charles was about go on death row because there was hole in my logic. The bullet was a thorn in my side and I couldn’t find it. I had no way too. Either way, it was time to think.

The bullet had to have been shot in Charles room. From my guessing, he doesn’t have anything else that was dense enough to stop a bullet. So it had to hit the bed-frame. Where it went after that is a mystery. Mr. Banks said that the police looked around thoroughly and didn’t find any kind of mark or bullet anywhere.

I halted my train of thought to see Keegan stuttering random words. Trying to stall the inevitable, I guess. I decided it was time to speak up.

“Your Honor!” I said firmly. The whole courtroom silenced and gradually turned towards me.  I felt like I was hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer of nervous power. And boy did it made me nervous. “Ah… Your Honor, if I may shed some light onto the situation at hand?”

The judge cocked an eyebrow and boomed, “Continue!”

I flinched and very tensely, I continued, “Um… Of course, your Honor,” I glanced towards Keegan looking for some kind of encouragement just to get a look that said, ‘We’re doomed’. Well geez. Thanks.

“Apparently, the prosecution says that the police have checked Mr. Jordan’s room for any suspicious items or marks. He says that they didn’t find any,” I explained. Mr. Banks however looked as if I insulted him and I said rather hurriedly, “I’m not saying that they are a bad group! I’m just thinking aloud!” while I held my hands up in defense. Mr. Banks seemed to ease up a bit after I explained myself.

“However,” I continued, “While the witness’s account and our theory is both quite plausible, they both lack a key piece of evidence: the sixth bullet. The question at hand is where the bullet is located. If it were found in or near Charles or his room, I think it would be safe to say our story is what actually happened…”

“…And if it were anywhere else, our story is what actually happened,” Mr. Banks finished.

“Even so, the prosecution has firmly established a case against Mr. Jordan so the sixth bullet is insurance for them at this point. The one who really needs it is the defense. But the million-dollar question is where it is?”

Mr. Banks groaned and said, “Your Honor, it’s obvious the defense is now stalling the inevitable. I demand the jury cast their votes for the verdict immediately!”

“Mr. Watkins, your assistant’s attempts at stalling were very poorly thought through. I’m afraid I’ll have to acknowledge Mr. Banks demands. Have you any objections?” The judge asked. The courtroom was silent.

Okay, panic button has been pressed. This was REALLY bad. I had to fill the hole in my logic FAST. So it was time to think… again.

The bullet had to have been shot at the bed-frame. But it wasn’t found in the room. Maybe someone took it? That had to be the solution. It was the only one.

“WAIT!” I yelled, “Maybe someone took it? That has to be it!”

“Nice try,” Mr. Banks sneered, “But the police arrived seconds after you said Charles woke up. So that would contradict your story!”

He was right. But it was the only way it could happen. Let’s think some more. If the bullet couldn’t have been taken on purpose, than maybe it was on accident?

“That is enough!” The judge exclaimed, “No more! I have had enough of the defenses unintelligible prattle! The Jury may now cast their votes!” He said as he slammed down his gavel.

Well that’s it. It was over. I sat down speechless. I just killed a man. Just let those words sink in for a bit. I just killed a man. It has a depressing ring to it, doesn’t it? One of the things I was preached never to do, but the one time I do, I kill the man who I knew was innocent. To this day, I still don’t know why I took the case.

I would find out soon enough, though, as Charles trudged towards me, a look of emptiness on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” I said darkly, “I couldn’t save you. Your innocent and I failed to prove that.”

He looked dismayed and replied, “That’s alright. You did all you could. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of anymore help.”

I went to shake his hand one last time. When I did, it felt warm and lively, his pulse sending chills down my spine. It would send chills down your spine too if you knew it wasn’t going to beat in a few days.

Keegan approached Charles and apologized as well, hugging him tightly instead of shaking his hand. But he scrunched up his nose, his face showing obvious disgust. I had forgotten about Charles’ body odor still lingering on his clothes.

His Clothes…

“Sorry, I know I smell. But the police haven’t let me change my clothes since they arrested me.”

“WAIT!” I yelled before any of the jury left. Everyone was in the middle of going to the lobby talk about the case that had just conspired. Or so they thought. They all looked at me, a bit of surprise at my sudden outburst.

The judge was the first to speak, “Mr. Watkins, what is the meaning of this? I will have you and your assistant under contempt of court if you cannot keep him quiet!”

“I’m sorry Your Honor, but this is of utmost importance!” I said barely containing my excitement, “I know where the sixth bullet is!”

The judge gave me an incredulous look and said, “I don’t care. This court has been adjourned already. I can’t just let you do this.”

“I understand that, Your Honor, but this is of utmost importance! I don’t want the jury or His Honor to make a mistake by putting this adolescent on death row. He is innocent and if you just let me prove it…”

“No!” Mr. Banks interrupted, “The court has been adjourned! There is no way the man can show where this bullet is!”

“Please, Your Honor! Just let me make this one point! You can hold me in contempt of court for as long as you want, but don’t make this innocent man a guilty one!”

The judge rubbed his chin in thought. After a minute or so, he finally said, “You really believe this man is innocent?”

I nodded with 100% confidence in Charles.

“Very well, the court will hear one last statement from the defense.”

“OBJECTION! Your Honor, I…”

“Overruled. The court has made up its mind. No more interruptions from the prosecution. Continue,” The judge said in a judgmental tone.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said with a content sigh, “Now, Charles here told me earlier and I quote, ‘I haven’t changed my clothes since I was arrested’. That means if our story holds true, the clothes he is now wearing are the same clothes he wore during the crime,” I said getting a few disgusted looks from the audience and Judge.

“We also stated that the bullet could not have been taken from the room on purpose, because it would contradict our theory,” I added nodding towards Mr. Banks.

“Get on with the point!” The Judge near yelled.

“I was getting to that. If the bullet wasn’t taken on purpose, then logically it must have been taken on accident,” I said in a matter-of-factly tone.

“But how could someone take a bullet on accident? What could they possibly mistake a bullet for?” Mr. Banks asked.

“That’s just it. The person who took the bullet didn’t even know they had it!” I said dramatically, getting some murmurs about the crowd.

“Well then who took it?!” Mr. Banks exasperated.

“Charles did,” I said calmly. But the court near erupted with surprise. The crowd all at once went into an uproar of confusion and shock. Even Mr. Banks looked a bit surprised.

“ORDER IN MY COURTROOM!” The Judge yelled whilst slamming his gavel on the sound block, “Are you claiming that Mr. Jordan has the bullet?”

“Yes I am, Your Honor. The bullet bounced of the solid steel bed-frame and in doing so, landed in a spot no one would have guessed it would end up,” I said slowly making my way towards Charles, “In his clothes.”

“But where in his clothes could the bullet end up? And how the hell did he get into this courtroom with it?” Mr. Banks asked shakily.

“Right here,” I said as I reached towards Charles. ‘I hope’ I thought. As I ever so slowly reached towards Charles, I heard the crowd, the Judge, and even Mr. Banks lean on the edge of their creaky seats. Time seemed to slow down at this moment and boy was I nervous. What if I really was wrong? What if the bullet wasn’t really where I thought it was?

Even so, I forced myself to keep going. I finally glanced towards Keegan, and he gave me an affirmative nod. Then with a nervous sigh, I reached into Charles hood on his hoodie. With no one telling me to stop, not even Charles himself, I fumbled my hand inside the hood. But I didn’t feel anything. I was starting to panic. I was going to make a fool of myself.

But right as I was about to pull my hand out, I felt something cool to the touch. It felt solid, metallic, and small. I smiled as I pulled it out even more slowly than I reached in. And there, right in between my thumb and forefinger, was a squished bullet, squished from what I knew to be the solid steel bed-frame. I raised it high and beamed, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, the sixth bullet!”

It seemed the entire courtroom erupted with cries of confusion, joy, and bewilderment as I was pulled into a bear hug by an extremely emotional Charles, crying without shame. Keegan gave up his man-card as well, and jumped into the pile. The Judge, I noticed, was chuckling softly to himself, obviously glad the way things seemed to turn out. The only one who wasn’t jumping up and down or getting mauled by two bears was Mr. Banks who was slumped over in his chair and staring blankly at me. But nothing seemed to daunt me. I was on top of the world, and the goofy grin plastered on to my face seemed to show that quite well. It seemed like forever for how long the ‘celebration’ lasted before the Jury had casted their votes and came to a unanimous decision.

The verdict was obviously; ‘Not Guilty’ and a search party were out looking for the real killer as the jury spoke. After court had adjourned, we were in the defendants lobby talking of our narrow victory and celebrating. It was then that my life seemed to take a turn for the unexpected.

Mr. Banks opened the door leading to the lobby and walked in as we fell silent. He straightened his tie in anxiousness and walked towards me. He then asked, “Can you and I talk in private?” as he nodded his head towards the main lobby.

When I realized he was talking to me, I replied, “Sure thing,” feeling a lump in my throat beginning to grow. I followed him out into the hallway and when we were out of earshot of anybody, he was the first to speak.

“That was a nice job you did in there. I’m certain you will have a great future in the law,” He complimented.

“Hey, thanks! That means a lot coming from you. I hope we see each other again under better circumstances,” I replied.

“Well those circumstances won’t come anytime soon. I’m afraid the only time we’ll see each other are in court and that won’t even be until the near future,” He chuckled. He seemed more at ease right now for some odd reason, maybe because he didn’t have to put Charles on death row. “But I think you’ll be one of the greats. What’s your name? I’ve got to watch out and warn my co-workers about your up and coming.”

I smiled, knowing why I took that case. I was a lawyer, through and through. The greatest joy anyone can ever feel is defending the innocent and that was better than any euphoria I’ve ever felt. I had no idea of knowing what the future had is store for me, but I knew it could only get better from here as I stuck my hand out and replied, “Name’s Teller Coy. But you can call me Tell.”

After we bid adieu, Keegan said thanks and said to expect a call about something important. It was when he called that he asked if I wanted to be his apprentice. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he asked and I happily replied yes. I finished up my second year in law school and started helping Keegan in his trials. And might I add that as a pair we haven’t lost.

But the entrance to my apartment rudely interrupted my flashback. I stood there, confused, as I looked towards my watch. I had gotten home ten minutes earlier than I usually do. Damn! I was trying to enjoy the fall day on my relaxing walk home and I end up rushing by.

Rush. There’s that word again. It’s not that I hate rushing by things, but it’s a habit more than anything. Whether it’s a good habit or a bad one is still a question to me, but I feel as if I missed a lot in life in doing so.

I sighed heavily as I opened the door to my apartment, tired from boredom. We haven’t had a steady stream of cases in a while and nowadays I just sit at the firm playing games on my computer. You have no idea how boring that gets after a while.

I took off my coat, threw it on the floor, and threw myself on my bed. Another day rushed by, another night to sleep away. I sighed as I slowly fell into a deep slumber.

Author's note as of February 9th, 2012: Well, seeing as this is the most viewed chapter so far, I'll put this little note here.

I feel like I'm doing something wrong (grammatically or how I'm telling the story ) and I would REALLY appreciate some critique. Seeing as this is a human story, I don't think it will get much. But any and all would be appreciated as Mr. Self Conscious here tries to continue.

I will say, writing this fic greatly familiarized me with bronydom and all it's inhabitants, so all you bronies out there have that going for you. Maybe I might try my luck at a pony story...

What's this?! A contest?! Maybe THAT can be my entrance exam into the clan of people you bronies call 'the herd'! Maybe I'll increase my writing skills, get some reviews, and (I hate to admit it) have a little fun. So for now, this story is on hiatus until I do this contest, as fun as it is writing a mystery. So until the end of the Contest, which may be sooner than you think :P, this is AZT saying Stay Viewtiful!