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alert drivers saw the violent collisions occurring in their path and managed to stop in time. I-80 westbound at Joliet came to a standstill, in what would become one of the longest traffic jams of all time.

3

August 26
Day 1

    Firing up his pickup, Chris Jacobs heard the rumble of the black GMC 2500 crew cab’s diesel come alive. Putting the truck into reverse, Chris backed out of his driveway and began making his way into work at the police department for the 15:30 roll call. He had simply ignored several calls from the station, figuring they wanted him to start early. Still having to make adjustments of getting back into civilian life from his recent tour in Afghanistan, Chris noticed it was the little things that weirded him out. Things like toilets that flushed. Not having to burn human waste was a luxury that, after you had been forced to do it, you don’t take for granted.
    And air conditioning is indeed truly a gift of the Gods! he thought as the cool air blasted into his cab. August was always too hot.
    Chris watched several people scurry across the street at an intersection and stared at them closely. Seeing people walking about unarmed was also somewhat alien to Chris.
    Not having to wear heavy ass body armor and a helmet everywhere is fantastic . Chris stretched out his neck, which always seemed sore now from the added weight.
    He still found himself reaching for his M4 carbine, which for the past year and a half, had never been out of arm’s reach. This time Chris instead reached for his cell phone to see if Stephen had called off sick today from work. He hoped not because he wanted to know if the county sheriff ever got called back out to the property. Stephen’s only neighbor up north seemed to be the anti-gun type who had a stick up his ass over the fact that the new guy was a trigger happy gun nut from the “city”.
    “ What an asshole,” he chuckled to himself as he neared the police station.
    At the employee parking lot, Chris noticed a number of squad cars leaving the station with lights and sirens activated.
    “ Wonder what’s going on?” he muttered to himself. “Probably just another random shot fired call.”
    In Joliet’s low income residential area, this was a common, almost everyday occurrence. Especially on days like today, when it was hot.
    Chris parked his truck in the lot and, after receiving no answer from Stephen, began the walk to the station as other coworkers began to arrive.
    "Man, it’s crazy out there today, fights all over the place,” Officer Langston said while walking in holding his trademark cup of coffee.
    “ You’re on afternoon overtime again, you whore?” Chris asked. “I didn’t have my radio turned on, what did I miss?”
    Langston was a midnight officer but was always looking to soak up easy overtime.
    “ Fights and more fights!” Langston replied. “A few guys are out on injury already. I heard Sherman is at the hospital now. Maybe I should have stayed home today.”
    As they reached the doors, Langston paused. “I’ll see ya inside. I’m gonna finish this smoke,” he told Chris, who watched Langston fish a fresh cigarette from his shirt pocket.
    “ You gotta quit smoking, old man,” Chris shot back as he walked away. “Those things will slow ya down.”
    Entering the station, Chris headed over to the roll call room where the watch commander was to go over the crimes and arrests from the last two shifts and the assignments for the officers working. As he entered the room, Chris observed his immediate street supervisor walking his way. His supervisor, a fat, greasy looking man, the type who got off on telling others what to do, fast walked towards Chris as soon as he saw him.
    “ Hey, Chris, we’re getting swamped with fight calls," he snapped. "I need you to hit the street right now and help out.”
    “ Roger that, Sgt. Henderson," Chris answered. "Let me check out a squad, and I’ll hit the street.”
    As one of the less senior officers,