Headless by Robert Thompson

Danny's general direction. It's clear he's not a fighter.
         “Dan, sit down, man. It was an accident.” Caleb commands forcefully, but his friend is seeing red.
         “Guys knock it off, come on!” Katerina screams out as well.
         “Get back there and have them cut that shit out, they're rocking the van. I'm driving like a drunk!” Dougie yells at Caleb.
         Caleb undoes his seatbelt and climbs back in between the seats. With one hand he shoves Danny back down to his seat, and grips his collar tight.
         “I said knock it the fuck off! You hear me?”
         “Yeah, I hear you,” Danny growls raising his hands as he breathes rapidly.
         Caleb looks over his shoulder to make sure Harold is calm as well. Harold has a look of utter fear on his face, and Caleb then looks between them. Kat and Amir sit between the two of them, as well.
         “It was an accident. We've got plenty more drugs and booze. You need a time out. Tina trade spots with him. Kat, Amir, you two can sit between them, right?” Caleb inquires.
         Kat and Amir nod, returning to their seats. Tina gets up, and moves as Danny sighs, trading spots with her.
         “Treat me like a goddamn kid, man,” Danny complains.
         “Hey. Act like a child, get treated like a child. Everyone was having a grand ol' time; having a blast, then you had to fuck up the vibe,” Caleb shrugs. “Now there isn't going to be any more fighting the rest of the night, got it?” He looks around at everyone who agrees. “Good. Damn. Can't take the kids anywhere.”
         Caleb makes his way back to the passenger seat and buckles himself back in.
         “Good job, bro,” Dougie notes, patting his friend on the shoulder.
         “That took some nerve jumping in there like that,” Amir noted, grinning at Kat.
         “Couldn't let the boys have all the fun, right?”
         “Ugh. Typical male chauvinism, thinking only they can resolve the conflicts. News flash, women are just as capable of stopping wars as men are!” Sam hissed across at Amir, who stared back at her in confusion.
         “All – alright.”
         Harold stares at the floorboard, looking very much like a scolded puppy, before looking up at the others. There's an awkward silent tension amongst them all at the moment. He looks over to find Danny staring directly at him.
         “I'm going to kill you,” Danny mouths to him.
         Harold turns away slightly, as Dougie turns the radio on to break the tension.

CHAPTER XI
     
         The police office was more of a dungeon with a desk, than anything resembling an up-to-date department. The walls were faded brick, and the two individual cells were hardly enough to hold an average-sized man. The one desk sitting in the room was so littered with paperwork – and paper footballs – and paper airplanes, that it was hard to make out what color the furniture was.
         There was hardly room for the radio to sit on the very edge of the main desk. A very small desk with an old computer and printer sat off in one corner. The thing must rarely be used, as it had collected an impressive layer of dust. And in the far corner, a fresh pot of coffee brewed on a small stand. The coffee seemed to be the most cared for thing in the building.
         Young Deputy Michael Hadley, in his early thirties, leaned back with his feet propped up on the desk. His large-brimmed hat was lowered over his eyes, as his head rested back on his hands. He was in decent enough shape, with hair just starting to grey around the edges. His goatee was trimmed up, but thick; his tan uniform still relatively pressed from a day of not doing, well, anything.
         The old Sheriff strolled into the room, his eyes lowered to the ground. Williams had walked these halls so often over the years, he was certain he could do it blindfolded. When he came up to the Deputy sleeping on the job, he paused.