Pink Snowbunnies in Hell: A Flash Fiction Anthology by Debora Geary, Nichole Chase, Nathan Lowell, Barbra Annino, T. L. Haddix, Camille Laguire, Heather Marie Adkins, Julie Christensen, A. J. Braithwaite, Asher MacDonald
Authors: Debora Geary, Nichole Chase, Nathan Lowell, Barbra Annino, T. L. Haddix, Camille Laguire, Heather Marie Adkins, Julie Christensen, A. J. Braithwaite, Asher MacDonald
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Domestic Disturbance
By T.L. Haddix
Deputy Jason Hudson was almost off-duty when dispatch paged him back out.
“What’s your twenty, unit sixteen?”
“Ten minutes out, just passing Heartfield,” he answered. Heartfield was Olman County’s latest subdivision.
“Sixteen, I need you to turn around and head back out to Frazier’s Grove. We’ve had a report of a six-oh-eight with an eight-ten. Fire department is responding, ten minutes out.” The dispatcher relayed the address.
Jason sighed. A domestic disturbance with fire involved. The two were never a good combination. “Isn’t that Mick Helton’s address?”
“It is.”
“Ten-four, dispatch. I’m heading that way.” As he turned around and flipped on his light bar, the radio crackled again.
“Sixteen, be advised that the suspect is wearing a pink Easter bunny costume and is carrying a flamethrower.”
He slowed down and reached for the radio again. “Ten-nine, dispatch. Repeat that, please. I know I didn’t hear you correctly.” The dispatcher repeated the information, and he could tell she was trying to not laugh. “Carrie, is this a joke?”
“Negative, unit sixteen. Proceed with caution.”
Jason was tired. It had been a long four days, and he was looking very forward to having the next four off. The last thing he felt like dealing with was some practical joke dispatch was playing, but he couldn’t ignore the call. He accelerated. “Ten-four, dispatch. Sixteen out.”
A few minutes later, it was readily apparent Carrie hadn’t been kidding. As he pulled up in the Helton’s driveway, Jason saw that the large shed in the backyard was fully engulfed in flames. Dancing around the burning structure was a man dressed in a pink rabbit costume. Sure enough, he had a flamethrower strapped on his back.
Jason radioed back in, then got out of the car. Mick’s grown daughter met him as he reached the old farmhouse.
“It’s Daddy. I’ve tried to talk to him, but…”
Every few seconds, Mick would give a maniacal laugh and pull the flamethrower’s trigger. When the resulting stream of fire shot out, his laughter gave way to triumphant howls.
“What set him off this time?” Jason thought about the best way to approach Mick as the daughter answered.
“He had a big ol’ fight with Mommy. She’s in the house. That’s her potting shed he’s torched.”
“She okay?” Sirens sounded in the distance, and he hoped it was the fire trucks. If they didn’t get the flaming shed under control soon, the woods behind it could very easily go up as well.
“She’s fine. Mad as hell,” the daughter answered.
“I’m going to try to talk to your dad. Stay back, okay?”
She nodded. “Just make sure you get his attention before you get too close. I hollered at him earlier and the bird bath bought it when he turned around too quick.”
Jason shot her a stunned look and moved closer. As he did, Mick turned around and spotted him. Unfortunately, he had been in the middle of another fiery spurt, and the flames followed the direction he looked. A stream of fire shot in Jason’s direction, but he wasn’t close enough to get burned, though the heat was uncomfortable during the few seconds Mick held the trigger down. When the man realized what he was doing, he dropped the flamethrower’s gun to his side and stomped across the yard toward the driveway.
“Jason Hudson! Didn’t see you there,” Mick apologized, his words slurred. “Sorry about that.”
“You want to take that thing off?” Jason’s hand hovered above his weapon, just in case.
“Sure, sure.” With movements clumsy from the alcohol, he dropped the flamethrower on the ground and grinned as he came closer. “You gonna take me in?”
“Afraid so, Mick.”
“Okay, then. I could use a good night’s sleep.”
Jason walked the now-docile man to his cruiser as the fire trucks drove
By T.L. Haddix
Deputy Jason Hudson was almost off-duty when dispatch paged him back out.
“What’s your twenty, unit sixteen?”
“Ten minutes out, just passing Heartfield,” he answered. Heartfield was Olman County’s latest subdivision.
“Sixteen, I need you to turn around and head back out to Frazier’s Grove. We’ve had a report of a six-oh-eight with an eight-ten. Fire department is responding, ten minutes out.” The dispatcher relayed the address.
Jason sighed. A domestic disturbance with fire involved. The two were never a good combination. “Isn’t that Mick Helton’s address?”
“It is.”
“Ten-four, dispatch. I’m heading that way.” As he turned around and flipped on his light bar, the radio crackled again.
“Sixteen, be advised that the suspect is wearing a pink Easter bunny costume and is carrying a flamethrower.”
He slowed down and reached for the radio again. “Ten-nine, dispatch. Repeat that, please. I know I didn’t hear you correctly.” The dispatcher repeated the information, and he could tell she was trying to not laugh. “Carrie, is this a joke?”
“Negative, unit sixteen. Proceed with caution.”
Jason was tired. It had been a long four days, and he was looking very forward to having the next four off. The last thing he felt like dealing with was some practical joke dispatch was playing, but he couldn’t ignore the call. He accelerated. “Ten-four, dispatch. Sixteen out.”
A few minutes later, it was readily apparent Carrie hadn’t been kidding. As he pulled up in the Helton’s driveway, Jason saw that the large shed in the backyard was fully engulfed in flames. Dancing around the burning structure was a man dressed in a pink rabbit costume. Sure enough, he had a flamethrower strapped on his back.
Jason radioed back in, then got out of the car. Mick’s grown daughter met him as he reached the old farmhouse.
“It’s Daddy. I’ve tried to talk to him, but…”
Every few seconds, Mick would give a maniacal laugh and pull the flamethrower’s trigger. When the resulting stream of fire shot out, his laughter gave way to triumphant howls.
“What set him off this time?” Jason thought about the best way to approach Mick as the daughter answered.
“He had a big ol’ fight with Mommy. She’s in the house. That’s her potting shed he’s torched.”
“She okay?” Sirens sounded in the distance, and he hoped it was the fire trucks. If they didn’t get the flaming shed under control soon, the woods behind it could very easily go up as well.
“She’s fine. Mad as hell,” the daughter answered.
“I’m going to try to talk to your dad. Stay back, okay?”
She nodded. “Just make sure you get his attention before you get too close. I hollered at him earlier and the bird bath bought it when he turned around too quick.”
Jason shot her a stunned look and moved closer. As he did, Mick turned around and spotted him. Unfortunately, he had been in the middle of another fiery spurt, and the flames followed the direction he looked. A stream of fire shot in Jason’s direction, but he wasn’t close enough to get burned, though the heat was uncomfortable during the few seconds Mick held the trigger down. When the man realized what he was doing, he dropped the flamethrower’s gun to his side and stomped across the yard toward the driveway.
“Jason Hudson! Didn’t see you there,” Mick apologized, his words slurred. “Sorry about that.”
“You want to take that thing off?” Jason’s hand hovered above his weapon, just in case.
“Sure, sure.” With movements clumsy from the alcohol, he dropped the flamethrower on the ground and grinned as he came closer. “You gonna take me in?”
“Afraid so, Mick.”
“Okay, then. I could use a good night’s sleep.”
Jason walked the now-docile man to his cruiser as the fire trucks drove
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