Come On, Cavalry
Now, Hendrix’s whole attention was fixed at the front of the store. The disturbing party was a male about 30 in jeans and a shirt. But Hendrix didn’t know what to make of the situation, none of the dynamics thus far suggested a robbery. Still, it was enough for Hendrix to know that it involved a firearm.
Retrieving his own revolver from his fiancee’s purse, Hendrix shoved it in his back pocket then showed his badge to the store employee who’d been helping them.
“Do you have any armed security inside or outside the store?” Hendrix asked.
But the talkative employee had suddenly become mute, stupefied by what was unfolding.
At least he isn’t panicking like the others, Hendrix thought.
Chaos had broken out in the store as customers and employees trampled over displays and one another to get away from the threat. Still, Hendrix wished that the employee hadn’t vapor-locked. It would be up to Hendrix to somehow ensure that neither he nor anyone else who stood to interject themselves into the situation would become a victim of friendly fire. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to get involved at all.
Telling his fiancee to call 9-1-1, Hendricks started to make his way to the front of the store.
“Come on, cavalry,” Hendrix said to himself.
