Chad’s destination turned out to be a ranch, one somewhat smaller than neighboring places, but he felt like the name was familiar, why, he couldn’t quite say. The Ram bumped along the gravel driveway, the two-story home, complete with what looked like a wraparound porch, came into view. The lights were ablaze and a figure sat on the porch. A while back Chad had cut the siren, racing down the two-lane road, thankful the late hour meant no one else was around. In situations like this, where gunfire was reported, Chad always felt tense, his muscles taut and ready to react, so seeing someone on the porch he slowed, wondering if they were the culprit or the caller.
When they began to frantically wave their arms, he opted for victim.
Chad pulled to a stop, leaving the red and blue lights swirl
