My Partner Tied Me to a Tree, but My Collar Was Already Transmitting

The autumn wind howled through the bare maple trees of the Blackwood Nature Reserve, carrying with it the sharp scent of decay and damp earth. Officer Ashley blinked through the blinding pain throbbing in her temples. When her eyes finally focused, she realized she was bound tightly to a thick oak tree, coarse hemp ropes biting into her wrists and chest. Her duty belt, weapon, and radio were gone.

Standing directly in front of her was Officer Brian, her partner of three years. He wore his familiar charcoal beanie, but the warm, dependable smile he usually carried was replaced by a cold, predatory sneer.

"Out here, no one's coming to help you," Brian said, leaning in so close Ashley could smell the stale coffee on his breath.

For weeks, Ashley had been investigating a leak within their precinct. Someone had been tipping off a local cartel, resulting in botched raids and missing evidence cash. She had finally traced the digital footprint back to Brian’s login credentials. When she confronted him, he had lured her out to this remote reserve under the pretense of meeting an informant. Instead, he had ambushed her.

Despite the cold terror gripping her heart, Ashley refused to let him see her break. She drew in a deep, steadying breath, looked him dead in the eye, and spoke with absolute certainty.

"You already made a mistake."

Brian’s smirk faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his rugged features. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice dropping an octave.

As if on cue, the dim, desaturated woods behind him began to pulse with a brilliant, strobing glow. Vibrant red and blue police lights sliced through the bare branches, painting the fallen leaves in dramatic hues of violet and crimson. Brian spun around, his face instantly draining of color as the silent fleet of cruisers closed in on their position.