Officer James Sherwood (fictional)

United States
November 2, 2007 9:21am CST
I am VERY aware that this snipet from a story I'm working on could use some work, probably a lot of work! :) And that's why I'm posting it here, I usually get a lot of help from my friends here. This is only about 1 1/2 pages. So if you all wouldn't mind giving me ANY suggestions on any part of this, I would really appreciate the help! Thank you, I hope you enjoy it! UNTITLED Officer James Sherwood's cruiser sped down the deserted road, hurrying home after an uneventful shift. The road curved around a small lake, now frozen by winter's grasp. Sherwood flashed back to winters long ago when his father would take him ice fishing on the lake. Memories that drifted away as time went on. Suddenly a shadow caught in the patrol car's headlights and Sherwood slammed on the brakes. The car skid across the other lane and crashed into the guard rail. Steam rose from the hood as Sherwood lifted his head off the steering wheel, a line of blood curved down his forehead. He looked around his car, the coffee pooled in the cushion of the passenger seat; the GPS computer's screen was black. "Damn it," he swung open his door and stepped out. "Stupid son of a b--." A figure peered at him from across the street, hidden in the cover of bushes at the side of the road. Her yellow eyes were wide with excitement. "Get outta here, get!" Sherwood hollered. The deer disappeared, dead leaves crunched beneath her fleeing hooves. Sherwood pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "This is Officer Sherwood; I had an accident down route 89, about halfway. No it won't start. Yeah, I'm fine. Alright, thank you." He ended the call and replaced the phone in his pocket. He walked over to the railing and looked across the icy lake. His dark bangs waved in the chilly wind, his coat doing little to stop its pierce. He bit at his lower lip and turned back towards the wrecked car. His hand searched through the glove compartment, and withdrew a Marbolo cartoon. He walked a few yards away from the crash and turned toward the lake. He put a cigarette in his mouth and placed the cartoon in his coat pocket. He pulled out a matchbox and ripped out a match. Sherwood stroked the match along the rough strip, igniting the end. As he brought the flame closer to the cigarettes tip, something on the lake caught his eye. Some of the ice appeared black. He squinted his eyes trying to identify what was on the ice. The cigarette fell from his mouth and the matchbox hit the ground. Officer Sherwood leapt over the guard rail and ran towards the lake, stopping before he reached the ice. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hello! Can you hear me?" The figure on the ice lay frozen. Sherwood drummed his foot against the ice. "Seems solid," he said to himself. He stepped cautiously on the ice. He slowly made his way across the frozen water, careful not to upset the fury beneath the ice. Whenever he looked towards the figure on the ice he still felt a mile away. He quickened his pace; despite the chilly wind around him, sweat trickled down his forehead and stung his eyes. As he neared the body he knew the ice around it would be weaker. When he stood two yards away he laid down flat on his stomach and began sliding himself closer. The body in the water was facing away from him, towards the forest on the other side of the lake. "Can you hear me?" Sherwood asked when he was in an arms length of the body. "Can you hear me?" Only silence answered him. He began crawling again. The moment his chest was at the edge of the hole the ice gave way under his weight and sent him head first into the dark water. He came up a few seconds later, gasping for air. The cold coiled around him like a snake. He was alone on the surface now. Sherwood took a deep, painful breath and dove back under the torturing water. Ten seconds went by before Sherwood reappeared with an unconscious girl under his arm. He struggled towards the holes edge, but as he tried to climb out the ice crumbled, widening the hole. He felt his legs and arms tiring, and knew with him gone the girl would surely be lost. Collecting all his strength, Sherwood swam under the girl until she was on his shoulders. With his remaining strength, Sherwood flung her on the ice, as far away from the holes edge as he could manage. The ice held her and she shifted her head, coughing uncontrollability. Sherwood tried grabbing the edge of the ice again but it melted into the water. He turned himself, trying to find any solid part around the hole. Everything crumbled under his touch. He saw flashing lights pull up behind his wrecked cruiser; two officers stepped out and walked around the car. Their conversation sounded like distant mumbles. He tried calling out, but his voice was frozen, like the rest of his body. He could feel his legs slowing down in the water; his arms following suit. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer in the water, his body was shutting down. The girl was once again silent and frozen on the icy lake. He looked up at the other officers and saw one bend down, picking something up off the street. He showed it to his partner and they began talking again. Then one of the officers pointed towards the lake. One of the cops returned to the cruiser while the other stood by the guard railing. The spot light on the cruiser flickered on. Its beam scanned the rivers surface. Sherwood watched as it neared the girl’s body. His eyelids became heavy; he could not see the officer scurrying down the river embankment, but he heard the shouts as one frantically called for an ambulance over the radio. Everything froze. ****************************** Red and blue lights poured through his eyelids. Something pressed down against his face. He was lying on a comfortable, elevated mat. He opened his eyes. He lay on a stretcher, covered with thick blankets. A paramedic injected a long needle in his arm as cops buzzed around him. Another ambulance sped down the road, heading towards town. James mind was rushing through tonight’s events, wondering how he escaped the water. The spotlights beam lit up the water above his head as he tried to kick himself to the surface. A rope glided towards him, he struggled to close his hand around it. He was quickly pulled onto the frozen ice and away from the hole. He blacked out again as he was grabbed under his arms. His eyes stung from the icy water, his limbs were paralyzed with weariness. His breathing was shallow behind the oxygen mask. A middle aged man leaned over him, his face full of worry. “James,” the man whispered. “You damn fool.” The man placed his hand on James’ shoulder, “I’ll see you at the hospital.” Two paramedics lifted his stretcher into the back of an ambulance. They climbed in after him and tightly shut the doors. The ambulance sped down the street.
1 response
@ElicBxn (61063)
• United States
2 Nov 07
just a start on my comments, Lily since I'm at work. I like what I read, but mostly what I'm going to comment on is word choice. first, a cartoon is "Garfield" and "Peanuts" and "Toy Story." A carton is a bunch of packs of cigerettes. It sounds to me like he pulled a pack of ciggies out of the glove box. It also sounds like he pulled a match out of a matchBOOK rather than a matchBOX. Is his smoking going to be important later in the story, or are you just trying to streach out the tale, since you obviously don't know that much about smoking to make such simple mistakes. Now, if his smoking is important later - and I could certainly find a way to make it so - leave it in. Needed a match later to start a fire or whatever, I know most non-smokers would be up the creek if they needed to do so.
• United States
2 Nov 07
LOL. Man, those are some bad mistakes lol. But you're right, I know nothing about smoking =P But yes, the smoking IS important later on in the story =D I'm glad you liked it though hehe. I don't doubt a lot of grammer, spelling, word mistakes will be wrong! lol. Thank you! :)