Week 50 - The Raid

The forensic report was in and the warrant was issued. Sam Anderson was going to be arrested for the distribution of illegal narcotics, arson, and the kidnapping/murder of Ray Carter. Anderson’s reputation as an unhinged maniac was only made worse as reports of his erratic behavior had been increasing recently as his drug use was becoming worse. This would not be an easy day for the Sheriff’s Office. 

“Alright, we’re gonna go in hard and fast,” he said, looking down at a printout of some satellite images. Sheriff Roy Higgins and his team, consisting of Deputies McElroy, Watts and Collins, along with a few member of the Black Grass City Police, stood around a tall, wooden table in the back room of the office. 

“That’s what she said!” Deputy McElroy said with a smirk. 

Higgins gave him a disappointed look and rolled his eyes. “Anderson’s trailer has exits here and here,” he said pointing to the front porch and back door. “There are also large windows in the living room and the back bedroom that he could use if he wanted to.”  

“Can we secure all of that with just us?” Deputy Collins asked. 

The Sheriff grabbed a black marker and placed “X’s” on the map. “McElroy, you and Collins are gonna be on the back door, here. Watts, you’re with me on ingress. The rest of you will set up a perimeter around the trailer. Make sure to secure the pickup.” He scanned the room, making sure everyone was on the same page. 

“Anyone else in the house?” Deputy Watts asked. There was a hint of fear in her voice. 

Higgins nodded his head. “We have every reason to believe that his young daughter will be in the house. We don’t know what state of mind Anderson will be in when we get there, but we have every reason to believe that he is armed, dangerous, and capable of just about anything. He’s as bad as they come, so let’s go bring him in.”

The team collected gear and suited up for what was to come. They loaded into SUVs and cruisers, hitting the blue lights as they pulled out of the courthouse. 

The road to Sam Anderson’s house was rough and treacherous, with potholes, errant logs and ditches all blocking the path. After turning off of the main stretch, the team traveled toward the Wallins section of the county. From there, they turned off of government maintained roadway to what is called Caney Holler. The Anderson’s had lived in this section for generations and have been terrors to the local community for just as long. Sam’s daddy was a bootlegger that sold mixed drinks out of a hut on the side of the road. His granddaddy was a moonshiner that ran clear whiskey up and down the region. But none have been as bad as Sam. 

Sheriff Higgins had known Sam Anderson growing up, as they were close to the same age. Sam was a troubled boy who liked to set fires and hurt small animals when he thought no-one was looking. It was a mystery to the sheriff how someone who barely finished the 10th grade was so prolific at cooking meth today. It was only the Lord’s love of fools that had kept him and the Jones girl alive back in the winter when they blew up that old house. 

Dusk was setting in when the convoy of police vehicles started their final approach to the Anderson home. Higgins had instructed the team to cut their lights before making visual confirmation with the home. Radio silence was also required as it was believed that Sam had a police radio scanner. 

They blocked off the entrance to the holler with their vehicles and gathered just below the bluff leading to Sam’s house. “Alright, let’s make this quick and safe,” the Sheriff said as he signaled for them to head out.

Deputies McElroy and Collins slinked toward the back of the house as Watts and the Sheriff scurried toward the front door. The sound of the city police dispersing to make a perimeter came from behind them. 

Sam’s home was a dilapidated single wide trailer with a grey wooden porch on the front. Dead bushes and weeds surrounded most of the property. There were lights on in at least three of the rooms in the house. Sheriff Higgins heard the sound of a television or radio coming from the front room and saw lights and movement in a back bedroom. 

He banged hard on the door three times. “Sam Anderson! This is Sheriff Roy Higgins. I have a warrant for your arrest. I want you to come out with you hands up. We don’t want to come in and get ya!”

A rustling noise came from inside the home. “Z’at you Roy?” a groggy, confused voice called out. 

“It’s me, Sam. I’m gonna take you in. We don’t want no trouble. We don’t want no-one to get hurt. So let’s make this easy on everyone.” He was trying to sound forceful but not too aggressive. 

CRACK! A small hole, about the size of an apple, blew out of the wall mere feet from the Sheriff’s head as a shotgun blast blew through the wall. Higgins and Watts immediately jumped from the porch and took cover.

“Did I get che’, Sheriff?” Sam called out from inside the house.

Watts grabbed the radio receiver on her shoulder. “Shots fired at 3472 Caney Holler. Repeat: shots fired at 3472 Caney Holler.” 

“Sam! We don’t got to do this!” Sheriff Higgins yelled from below the deck. He had twisted his ankle hopping over the railing and was currently twisting his foot, searching for some relief from the pain. 

Inside the house, the sounds of furniture toppling and glass breaking rang out. “He’s fortifying hisself in there,” Watts said as she peeked her the top of the railing. 

Suddenly, the sound of a small child crying blared through the night air. “Sam! Is your girl in there with you?” Higgins called out.

Another shotgun blast took out the majority of the front door. The child inside screamed in terror. “Goddamnit, Sam! Somebody’s gonna get hurt. Put down the gun and come on out!” Sheriff Higgins was desperate, searching for any way to end this situation quickly. 

“Sheriff,” Deputy McElroy said through the radio. “I think we can go in the back here without incident.”

McElroy was a bit of a cowboy, Higgins knew. But not many options were presenting themselves. “Stand down. He’s got a kid in there. Maybe more.”

“Copy,” McElroy said, sounding a little dejected. 

Higgins peered over the ledge of the deck just as the front door exploded into shrapnel as Sam fired his gun again. “Where you hidin’, Sheriff? I’m gonna find you!” the crazed shooter said in a sing-song voice. 

The cries of the young child were louder now. Higgins was fairly sure she was in the living room with Sam. “Let the girl go, Sam. She ain’t no part a this.” 

“You think I’m a damn fool, Sheriff. The only thing keepin’ you and your boys out there from stormin’ in and blastin’ my ass full a holes is my baby, here. She ain’t goin’ nowheres!” Sam’s voice was wild and frantic. “Baby, them men out there is here to kill me and you. But I ain’t gonna let that happen. You understand me, baby girl?” 

The cries continued.

Higgins grabbed his radio. “Dispatch, this is Unit One. How long on KSP?”

The speaker next to his shoulder crackled. “Unit one. KSP en route. ETA fifteen minutes.”

“What are you wantin’ to get out a this, Sam? State Police is on their way and they ain’t gonna be near as friendly as we are. Let the girl go and come out so we can take you in. Nobody needs to get hurt here tonight.” 

There was some shuffling inside. “We goin’ to Hell tonight, Sheriff! I am the devil and it’s time for me to go home!” A strong, astringent smell wafted through the air as well as the sound of liquid splashing. “We are sinners, and it’s time to burn for our sins.”

A horrific image flooded the sheriff’s mind. “He couldn’t!” Higgins forced himself up on the porch and darted inside the building. Inside, he saw Sam Anderson pouring liquid from a red gas canister all over himself while his daughter, Nevaeh, stood grasping his leg. She was dripping with the same liquid.

“Son of a bitch!” he said as he slammed his fist into Sam’s jaw, knocking him to the floor. He quickly grabbed the girl and darted for the door. 

“Nevaeh! Baby!” Sam called from inside. “I’ll kill all y’all motherfu-”

The sound of Sam’s shotgun firing was followed by a loud WHOOSH of air as the living room of the trailer became engulfed in flames. Fire shot from every door and window, sending glass and metal shards out in every direction. Sheriff Higgins wrapped the small girl in his arms as best he could, trying to keep her safe. The force of the blast sent both the Sheriff and the small girl flying from the house, landing on the hard ground below. 

From the fire, Sam screamed and laughed as he burned, sounding as if he were playing a game one second and being tortured the next. “Watts, get her away from here,” the sheriff said, handing the small girl to his deputy. 

“Dispatch, this is unit one. Add fire and rescue to the call. Advise, 3472 Caney Holler is currently on fire. Repeat,  3472 Caney Holler is on fire.”

The blue lights of state cruisers lit up the darkness as they pulled into the driveway a few moments later. Troopers and a couple detectives approached the burning house, cautiously.  

“Higgins, this scene secure?” a detective asked.

He nodded his head. “Sam Anderson was the target of an arrest warrant. Barricaded himself inside and fired on us. Tried to negotiate, but he used his young daughter as a hostage. Then doused her and himself with some flammable liquid. Kerosene if I had to guess. I made ingress and grabbed the girl, knocking Sam to the ground. He fired and the interior erupted into flame. He’s still in there, far as we know.” 

The detective was taking notes as the sheriff spoke. “Did you make any attempt to put out the fire and/or save Mr. Anderson?”

“Sam said he was the devil. I figured it best to let him burn.”