Week 42 - 911 Dispatch

CONTENT WARNING - VIOLENCE & TORTURE

The call came in about two in the morning. Missy, the new girl at dispatch, was on duty and Deputy McElroy had described her as “Green as goose shit,” just two days before. So, to say she was unprepared for what she heard is the largest of understatements. When Sheriff Higgins took the time to listen to the tape after everything went down, he commended Missy for how she handled herself. But, he wasn’t at all shocked when a letter of resignation landed on his desk a few days later. Some folks just aren’t made for police work. But Higgins wasn’t sure anyone was made to hear what she had to deal with that night. 

Regulations dictate no one works dispatch solo, so Missy was riding second chair that night, mainly there to get coffee, make copies and be an extra set of hands. Nobody ever expects anything really major to happen on a Tuesday in Peril County. So, when Trixie, the head dispatch officer on duty, took an extra ten minutes to hit the can and smoke a couple out back, it shouldn’t have been a big deal. Unfortunately, it turned out to be the worst night in the lives of several in and around Black Grass.

“911. What’s your emergency?” Missy said anxiously. She’d only handled a handful of phone calls before tonight. 

The voice on the other end of the line was weak and raspy, with lots of heavy, wet coughs breaking in between the words. “Y’all gotta help me. He’s gon’ kill me. This son of a bitch is crazy!”

Panic immediately set in on Missy. It was clear this was not a crank call, and this man was in immediate need of assistance. “Sir, where are you? Are you injured? Is it safe for you to talk?” 

“Girl, you gotta send somebody up here. I don’t know where I am. He tied up my hands and put a bag over my head and tossed me in a trunk of a car. He took my phone but didn’t notice the burner in my boot.”

“Can you tell me anything about where you are?” she asked, frantically trying to get the GPS to pull up from his phone. The call was coming from a prepaid cell with no name attached; always the hardest to track.

“I’m in a shed or something. There’s tools on the walls. It’s dark, just one bulb hanging on a wire.” He coughed hard, and she heard him spit.

“Is there anything else you can tell me? Where were you taken? How long were you traveling?” Missy’s mind was racing, trying to figure out any way to get the Sheriff or a Deputy out to help this man.

There was a pause. “Ugh, he got me from just outside a town. At the Speedy Quick. I must a been in that trunk for half an hour ‘fore he took me out.”

“Good, that gives us a perimeter,” she thought. “Anything else you can think of? Do you know who took you?

“Sure, it was Sa-Oh shit, someone’s comin’!”

Missy heard a shuffling noise, like fabric, running over the receiver of the phone. “Sir, are you still with me? Sir? I’m sending police and EMTs to the location pinging on your phone. Sir?”

There was no response. Missy was typing into her computer when Trixie came back into the Dispatch room. “What in the world, girl?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. 

“I don’t know, but it sounds legit,” Missy said. She reached over and turned a nob, sending the audio through speakers so that Trixie could also hear the call. The sound of a door slamming caused both of them to jerk. 

A new voice came through the line. It was gruff, cold and forceful. “Ray. Ray. Ray,” he said slowly. “Ya done messed up, Ray. Did you think you could narc on me, son, and get away with it? Really?” There was a loud thud followed by a grunt. Missy was sure the caller, who must be ‘Ray,’ was either punched or kicked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, man. I just sold you my mama’s pills. Why would I do that if I was a narc? Don’t make no sense!” Ray’s voice was weak, but still panicked. 

The other voice came through louder this time. He must be right on top of Ray, Missy thought. “You a weak little bitch, is what I think. You get popped for some bullshit and cut a deal to narc on me? On me! That shit ain’t gonna stand, son.”

There was another thud. Then, the roar of what Missy could only guess was a some kind of engine, like a leaf blower, roared through the phone. The screams that followed would haunt her for the rest of her life. 

“GPS says that the address is on the Conley Strip Mine. Officers en route. ETA 20 minutes,” Trixie said, shaking her head. 

“This ain’t gonna last 20 more minutes,” Missy thought. She wanted to yell into the phone, plead with this monster to stop what he was doing. But, she kept silent. 

The engine cut off. “Was that a chainsaw?” she thought, horrified. Now, the only sound coming through the phone that of Ray’s haggard breath. “Now, you really are a little bitch, Ray,” the voice said with a chuckle. “You ain’t got enough balls to do yer time, then I guess you just don’t need nary balls a’tall.” 

There was a few seconds of silence. Then, suddenly, Ray began screaming again, literally calling on whatever God might exist to save him. “Oh! Please Jesus! Please Jesus! No! No!” 

“Lord, Trixie! What are we supposed to do?” Missy was in tears.

The senior dispatcher put her arm around Missy and gave her a squeeze. “They’ll be there soon, honey. It’s all we can do is wait and pray.” 

Ray’s screaming subsided into a mournful wail. “I bet’chu don’t see what you did wrong, son. So, now you won’t be seein’ nothin’ at all. I’m gonna keep your eyes in a pickle jar, Ray. And show folks so they know not to narc on me.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. So sorry. They had the list. I just did what I was told. Just let me go, man. Just don’t kill me. Please.” Ray sounded weak and afraid. Missy wasn’t a medical expert, but wondered how much blood he had already lost.

The other man, Sam she assumed, sniffed hard. “So, the sinner confesses his sins. That’s what I was waiting for. Sinner’s got to pay for they sins, Ray. Sinner’s got to burn.”

There was a short pause, then the sound of liquid splashing trickled through the phone. Something rustled and Ray grunted and seemed to struggle. “Don’t do this, Sam. Don’t do this. Please Jesus. Please save me!” 

“Too late for Jesus, sinner. I am the devil. And you’re going to burn in hell with me now.” There was a subtle whooshing sound Missy could barely make out, followed by even more screams of misery. To her, it felt like they would never end, but the screams lasted no more than forty-five seconds. Eventually, the phone either died, melted or just lost signal. 

It was another ten minutes before Missy got the call that Sheriff Higgins and Deputy Collins arrived at the scene. “Dispatch, be advised we are on site of an old equipment shed at the Conley Strip Mine. No vehicles in the immediate vicinity. We have smoke and potential fire on the interior. Please alert VFD to roll ASAP.” Sheriff Higgins sounded tired, Missy thought. He’d be wide awake if he had heard what she had just gone through. She was sure of it. 

The radio crackled. “10-4, Sheriff.”

“Missy, there weren’t nothin’ we coulda done differn’t, hon,” Trixie said, handing her a cup of coffee. “Some people’s jus’ born bad. And that feller said it his self. He’s the devil!” 

She took a sip and closed her eyes. “He begged for help, Trix. He begged for us or Jesus or somebody to help him. And we just sat here.” 

The static of the radio cut through the room again. “Dispatch, this is Unit 1, come back.”

“This is dispatch. What have you got, Sheriff?” Trixie was manning the lead station now. 

“Contact KSP and let them know we need detectives ASAP. We have one DB on scene, badly burned and the amount of blood splatter on the walls indicate mutilation and/or torture. Scene is secure. We will wait for State to begin forensic and data collection.” Missy was still wearing her headset and could tell that, while he was trying to hide it, Sheriff Higgins was not taking what he had seen well. It was clearly bothering him. 

“10-4, Sheriff. Stay safe out there,” Trixie said as she clicked the mic button. 

Suddenly, Missy bolted up and ran for the bathroom. She vomited violently into the toilet for several moments, the emotions and shock of the last hour washing over her. She flushed the commode and rinsed her mouth out in the sink before going back into the Dispatch Room and taking a seat next to her workmate. “How have you done this for so long, Trixie?” 

She slapped her knees. “Missy, hon, tonight is as bad as it’s ever been. But I know this job helps people. People hurt. People scared. People that are having the worst day they ever gonna have. I hear about OD’s and shootings and all kinds a’ stuff. And it’s hard. But, at the end of the day, we send out the help to the people that needs it. And that get’s me thorough the long nights.”

“I just don’t know how someone could hold that much hate inside themselves to do that to another person. It’s not right.” Missy took another swig of coffee and pulled a coat around her shoulders. She sat there, unmoving, until her shift ended. 

The light from the sun was barely viable behind the mountains that surround the dispatch center when her father texted he was outside. Missy hadn’t listened to any of the updates from the scene. She didn’t need any gory details coming across the line. She’d experienced enough to last her a lifetime. And all she could think about was how she had let Ray down, whoever he was.