The death of Joey Billings

Joey Billings was another one of our fresh faced Officers at the unit. He was a good natured guy who just wanted to do some service for his country before starting his professional career in financial consulting. He got out after his four years and kept in touch with everyone fairly regularly. After the killings started in earnest, he really got into the whole firearms thing. He bought some land out in the Pennsylvania countryside about 45 minutes away from Allentown, started training every day, and even had his own social media channel. He trained relentlessly, took as many classes as he could, and pretty much became a gun guru in his own right.

One pleasantly warm afternoon after a fairly good training session, he was loading up his gear when he started having the feeling that someone was in the area and watching him. He reloaded his Glock 17 and threw a fresh magazine into his AR pistol that he had been practicing with before looking around the area. As he scanned his surroundings, he noticed a piece of cloth tied to a tree branch about 20 yards from where he had just been shooting. While looking around and trying to stay alert, he made his way over to the tree. Rifle in the low ready position, he kept scanning the area while trying to figure out what he was approaching. It was a small, but gruesome scene.

Someone had gruesomely nailed a squirrel to the tree by its front legs, its tiny body cruelly splayed open like a gutted deer. Beneath this macabre display, a sticky note dangled, also pinned to the tree. One of the squirrel’s hind legs, torn off and twisted into a grotesque writing tool, had been used to scrawl "U R NEXT" in dark, smeared blood on the note. The severed leg now sat ominously atop the push pin, holding the message in place. The brutal scene hit Joey like a sledgehammer, sending his mind spiraling into chaos. His blood started pounding and he started scanning the area as quickly as he could to see if he could lock on to the murderer. His heart thundered in his chest as he frantically scanned the surroundings, and his senses became dull as panic crashed over him like a tidal wave of terror. He went into full panic mode and started shooting into the woods. Any movement at all in his peripheral vison startled him into panicked shooting. Bullets whizzed through trees, innocent limbs were blown to bits, and the thunderous cracks from each shot scattered the wildlife quicker than a blazing inferno.

As hysteria and fear gripped him, he bolted back to his truck and fumbled for his phone. He stared at it for several minutes trying to figure out what he was supposed to do next. After finally  dialing 911 with trembling fingers, he was able to cry a desperate plea to the operator on the other end. He yelled at her to send someone as soon as possible, and then started wildly firing again in desperate panic into the shadowy woods. The police took an agonizing 30 minutes to find him, and by then, he was a mental wreck. He finally ran out of ammo in his rifle, so he hid underneath his truck and laid there trying to hear or see anyone approaching.  Every distant sound seemed amplified, each rustle and whisper of the forest overwhelming him with fear. Shadows danced across the trees, playing tricks on his frayed nerves, making him jump at every noise.

James Daniels was the police officer dispatched to respond to the panicked call. The operator didn’t have much information other than the fact that Joey sounded panicked and felt like he was in danger from something in the woods. He knew Joey, and he had even been out to the makeshift range out in the woods. Officer Daniels was a good ol’ boy who knew the county well, so he had no trouble locating him. He hunted and fished in these parts his whole life, and he was still young enough to move well in the woods. When he arrived, he found Joey sitting on the ground against one of his truck’s tires, rocking back and forth while mumbling. He had a hard time deciphering what he was saying because he was so incoherent. He approached cautiously, every sense heightened, moving with the deliberate steps and unthreatening body language. He was also scanning the immediate area because he knew that something bad had happened to put Joey into this state. He could see that Joey was armed, his eyes wild with panic, and his grip on the gun tight enough to turn his knuckles white. His eyes, although staring right at the officer, weren’t seeing what was right in front of him.

"Hey Joey, it’s Officer Daniels," the officer called out in a calm, steady voice, his hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "You doing alright, buddy? I'm here to help you. Can you lower the weapon for me?" The words were like lashes from a whip, striking Joey and causing a physical reaction. He flinched, whimpered, and gripped the Glock even tighter.

Each step forward was calculated, the officer's eyes never leaving the Joey’s. He maneuvered his body as much as possible so that he could react if Joey suddenly came around and started panic shooting. He slowly crept forward and totally focused on Joey’s body language to see if he was going to react. The forest around them was eerily quiet, the tension crackling in the air like an impending storm. Shadows danced in the periphery, adding to the surreal atmosphere.

"You're safe now," Daniels continued, his tone soothing. "But I need you to put the gun down. We can figure this out together."

Joey’s eyes darted around, his breathing ragged, as if he were a cornered animal searching for an escape. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and his incoherent mutterings filled the tense silence.

The officer took another careful step forward, his posture relaxed yet ready to react in an instant. "Look at me, Joey" he said, his voice unwavering. "It’s your ol’ buddy James. James Daniels, ok? You're not alone. I’m here to help you, Joey. We're going to get through this. Can you hear me, buddy?"

As he closed the distance, he could see the man's fear slowly giving way to defeat, his grip on the gun loosening ever so slightly as he closed his eyes and started to cry. The officer's calm demeanor was like a lifeline, pulling the man back from the edge of hysteria.

"I’m walking up to help you out, Joey. It’s alright now. I cleared the area and it’s just you and me now. You’re safe and you can finally put the gun down," Daniels urged gently, now close enough to reach out. "We can talk, and I'll make sure you're safe."

Billy’s whole body trembled and his sobs became deeper, the unforgotten weapon dipping toward the ground. The officer slowly seized the moment, his movements smooth and sure, disarming the man while providing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay," Daniels reassured, maintaining eye contact. "You're safe now. We're going to get you some help."

With the immediate danger averted, Officer Daniels called in an ambulance and the county crime scene investigator. The forest seemed to exhale, the tension dissipating as the officer continued to speak softly, ensuring the man knew he was no longer alone in his terror. Billy was taken away in an ambulance, but not before he finally was able to tell them about the significance of the squirrel and the note. Officer Daniels and the ambulance crew struggled to understand Joey's incoherent babbling as they were strapping him to the gurney. His words tumbled out in a jumbled mess of fear and confusion. Finally, just before being taken away in an ambulance, Joey managed to convey the chilling truth: there had been other murders, and now he was marked as the next victim.