Finishing What I Started in High School – Fiction

This piece stems from high school, one of those drafts that never received the full kind of love it deserved. It was over-the-top: heavy on gore, light on character and pacing. In revisiting it, I’m working to make it quieter.
High school Nick needed to slow down. He needed to reflect more. And honestly, he needed more life experience. (What town of 3,000 has 20 police officers? Very few!) The revision pares things back: less over-explaining, steadier pacing, and violence that’s implied rather than splattered.
My goal is to finish this story by the end of September. It may not be perfect, but it will feel good to move it from the unfinished pile to the finished one. If you’d like to see how Richard Dossler and the town of Jerryfield end up, the completed version will appear in Second Pass.

Here are segments of the original and the updated version:

2011 Draft

Richard Dossler was captain of the Jerry Police Department, a small force with 20 officers. He had worked his way up the ladder with honesty and responsibility and was respected by everyone. He drove a small Ford pick up to work every day with a .44 magnum in his shoulder holster. No matter what anyone else said, Rick loved his Ford.

He was cruising with a rookie officer named Jim when a call came in that there was a 10-90 at the Jerry Bank. The rookie looked at him and Rick nodded. The lights came on and they spun around to head for the bank in town. Jerry had only 3,000 inhabitants, a convenience store, bank, bakery, local drug store, and a short downtown road with hair dressers, small restaurants, and the Fire and Police Department.

“This is Captain Dossler, we’re 10-76 to the bank. Out.” Rick said into the car’s scanner.

The two sped down the highway and skidded onto Main Street. As they neared the scene, four squad cars were already there. The State Police were inbound with three more and SWAT was ten minutes out. Rick and Jim jumped out and approached Lieutenant Bosch who had taken charge.

2025 Revision

As Chief of the Jerryfield Police Department, Richard Dossler led a force of five officers. Three thousand inhabitants lived around the singular street identified as “downtown.” Main Street offers access to a diner, a small police station, a gas station, a drug store, and a bank. A few brick buildings, boarded up after the logging industry moved to fresher prospects, provide Chief Dossler and his officers enough work to keep their jobs by kicking out local kids who’ve broken in for late night gatherings.

Otherwise, Jerryfield maintains a calm scene, despite struggling to stay alive off the beaten path. Few tourists venture far from the highway, which is closer to cities like Anson and Dover. On one hand, Chief Dossler is fine with that. Fewer people usually means fewer crimes. He’s got barely enough officers to handle anything outside of the ordinary. Aside from drunk and disorderly conduct, there’s not much to worry about. However, a sports arena is currently under construction nearby. Chief Dossler considers that to be a threat to the peaceful community.

Today, Chief Dossler is driving with the town’s new hire, Jim Schofield. After much deliberation and input from the Chief, the town voted to hire Jim in preparation for the opening of the sports arena.

“That’ll bring people here for sure,” Jim says, scanning out his passenger window at an elderly woman sitting on her porch. He’s been twiddling with his new wedding band all day. It’s nearly driven Dossler to the edge. Relax, kid!

“Pros and cons to that,” Dossler replies. He’s tired today, out of the pain medicine for his back. Hopefully, there will be time to check in at the drug store.

“Dispatch to Chief Dossler!” The radio crinkles with urgency. 

The Chief keys his in car radio. “Dossler, go!” 

“10-90 in progress at the bank. Robbery in progress.”

Jim looks at the speaker anxiously. Chief Dossler reminds himself that the boy is as fresh from the academy as he is out of pain meds.

“I’m headed that way now with Officer Schofield!”

2011 Draft

“I’ll take it under control now, Lieutenant Bosch.” Dossler stated.

“Yes, sir! Right now, the bank robbers have said nothing. They took out the security cameras and we don’t know what’s going on.” Bosch informed the Captain.

“Have you tried to make contact?”

“Negative. We were going to wait for the negotiator which is five minutes away.”

“A lot can happen in five minutes, Bosch.” Rick cautioned.

“Yes, sir.”

Suddenly, the doors flew open and two people ran out towards the police. There was something wrong and it didn’t take long for Rick to see that under their sweatshirts, there were protruding objects.

“Stay away from the cars!” He yelled.

It was too late as a gunman sprayed the people with an AK-47 and cut them down. The bombs went off, splattering the police officers and cars with blood and gore. Rick Dossler withdrew his .44 magnum and aimed it at the door as two more civilians ran at them. This time, as the gunman opened up, he received a hail of .36 and .44 bullets. He went down with eleven holes. More gunfire erupted from within the bank and Rick immediately ordered officers to charge in.

2025 Revision

By coincidence, Dossler had turned on Forest Avenue moments ago. The street intersected Main Street close to the bank. Flipping on his sirens and lights, Dossler speeds up his Ford police pickup and turns left on Main Street. His truck slides onto the downtown road, tires squealing as anxiously as Jim.

“Jim, follow my instructions,” Dossler commands, driving the column shifter to park.

Outside the bank, Dossler sees the second police vehicle owned by the town. Officers Dedry and Newburg are there, service weapons drawn. Jim follows his Chief carefully, exiting the truck. 

“Stay here while I get info,” Dossler says, running to the other vehicle. “What’s going on?”

“Just got here. Nothing from inside. Not sure of how many are inside,” Newburg offers.

“Robbers or townspeople?” Dossler peeks over the hood.

“Both, sir.” 

At that, the double doors of Jerryfield Bank slam open. Two locals run out. Their coats are bloated. Something is wrong. 

“Keep away from –” Chief Dossler is interrupted by an explosion. 

His ears ring. The locals are gone.

“Oh, god!” Jim cries out. Dossler hears a mumble, glancing over. Jim is dazed, like a baby caught between the moment of laughter and tears. Newburg and Dedry aim their weapons at the door.

“More coming!” Dedry bellows.

“Run that way!” Newburg waves his hand.

A gunman fires an assault rifle into the civilians’ backs. 

Newburg and Dedry shoot past the falling people. The gunman returns fire. 

“Make sure we have State police coming!” Dossler calls in over his shoulder mic.

He withdraws his own service weapon and fires several rounds towards the assailant.

Seeing these two side by side, I’m reminded how much my writing has grown. I’ve developed from spectacle to pacing, from gore to character. By the end of September, I’ll have a finished version and maybe a little closure for my teenage self.