TomorROW May Never Come (POW)

Mike Rowan smiled at his partner, Ed Murrow, as he saw him bending

over reading by the roof light in the crown of the police cruiser, his eyes

were squinting causing the crows feet to be come more noticeable and his

brow more furrowed. He was reading his horoscope in the paper to tell him

of tomorrows forecast for himself.

They had been parked on this narrow side street, on a stakeout looking

for a gang causing a lot of problems, called the Scarecrows. Many

harrowing crimes had been happening lately. They were a group,

growing by leaps and bounds, accompanied by growling dogs,

trained  to make any victim cower when they were prowling

the streets, using their prowess to frighten even grown men.

Avoiding crowded places they struck in places overgrown with trees

so they could jump out and overthrow their victims with ease.

Rowan frowned at Murrow saying , I think we have to move down the

street to where it is narrower and perhaps we can be less noticeable.

We're getting nowhere here, and I don't want to browbeat you Murrow,

but turn the light off shining on the bald spot on the crown of your head,

it's casting a light of its own. The Scarecrow gang or any of their

brown nosing friends spying for them, have probably spotted us.

Rowan turned on the engine, the Crown Victoria, made a growling sound

crawling down the narrow roads, past row on row of houses, overcrowded

on their land and found a spot not drowned in light. He cautioned Murrow

not to light the cigarette in his hand. Murrow's brow furrowed, as he

frowned at his longtime friend and partner. Okay, he said, I don't want to

crowd your space, so I am going to get out and take a walk down the

road a bit and have a smoke. He got out of the Crown Vic, and walked

down the street, standing hidden under the tree cover, to drown out

the sight of his lighter flame and the growing cigarette ash.

With out any warning, Murrow went down with one blow from a crowbar,

to the crown of his head. The scarecrow gang, had made their score

for tonight.

Murrow gasped for breath, his head bleeding, his body writhed for a

few moments, feeling the life force leaving him. He had grown still now,

his brow no longer furrowed and his crows feet around his eyes smoothed,

as death took him and he saw a narrow path of light with rows of lights to

follow. He felt no pain.

Rowan could no longer see Murrow, he got out of the Crown Vic, frowning

with growing fear right to his bone marrow. He went toward the

undergrowth where his friend went to have a smoke, and saw his

lifeless body thrown upon the ground. Rowan, felt sorrow grip his heart.

Tears filled his eyes and a low growl escaped his lips.

Murrow would have no tomorrows to worry about