041 POV Stops cop car gets arrested 1172

I finally reach the main road of traffic. I come to a stop and take a moment, catching my breath. It's three lanes wide in both directions. Six lanes in total. The flow is equally dense in both directions. When my heart has slowed enough that I no longer feel like I'm running a marathon, I try to make eye contact with some of the passing drivers and wave them down. The first car doesn't see me and keeps going. The second, the third and the fourth all see me but don't stop. I keep waving but to no avail. After about fifty cars have passed I start to wonder, Am I that disheveled? Do I look that manic? I'm really not sure what to do. I keep waving at the passing cars, trucks and vans, but still, no one stops. After maybe another hundred have passed showing no signs of slowing, I change my approach. Instead of waving frantically I take several deep breaths, try to remain as calm as possible and wave in a much more controlled fashion. Despite my subdued approach that I hope reads as: I'm not crazy, I just need help, not a solitary driver looks like they're even sympathetic to my situation. 

I stop for a moment and look down the road that leads to the airport. I know it well enough having driven it over a dozen times. It circumnavigates the entire airport leading to the arrivals and departures entrance on the far side. I figure that if I were to run there it would take at least thirty minutes going at the feeble pace my highly fatigued legs can currently manage.

As I look down the road, I spot a blurry police cruiser coming from the airport. It's about one hundred yards away in the farthest lane from me. There's five lanes of traffic between us. This is my chance. If anyone will stop it's a cop. It's still almost pitch black and the glare from the multitudinous oncoming headlights is blinding. I don't want to risk him not seeing me. There's every chance that even if I yell and shout he wouldn't hear me over the constant thrum of traffic, and even if I jump up and down waving my arms like a madwoman he might miss me.

I can't take the chance. The cruiser is approaching fast. I make a spontaneous decision. I look on the ground for something, anything to throw at the police car to get his attention. An empty beer bottle lies on the side of the road only a few feet from me along with a slew of other discarded trash. I move quickly to the bottle, grab it, wait until the cruiser is almost directly parallel with me, then hurl it with all my might. I played softball for most of my teenage years, often pitching, so I know I've got a decent arm on me. Fortunately, I gauge the throw well enough for the bottle to hit the police car. It shatters on the driver's side window causing him to hit the brakes and come to a complete stop. The traffic behind him squeals to a halt and banks up, but no one hits their horn, no one dares agitate the police. 

The officer in the cab looks around, searching for where the offending debris originated. I wave to him, trying to get his attention, which I finally do. He flicks on his police lights and siren and pulls slowly across the five lanes of traffic. He parks his car about twenty feet from me on the side road on which I stand. He turns off the siren but leaves the lights flashing, he then opens his door. I run toward him, but as he gets out of the vehicle he draws his gun, aims it at me and yells, 'Stop or I'll shot.' 

I stop on a dime. Really not expecting this. 'Did you throw something at my cruiser?' He yells over the noisey traffic.

'Yeah, but only to get your attention.' I yell back. 'I wasn't trying to cause any damage, and it wasn't malicious.'

The cop looks at the crack in the driver's window from the impact of the bottle. 'Well, it's definitely caused damage, as you can see. I'm gonna need you to put your hands on your head and kneel on the ground.' He calls to me. 'You're under arrest for vandalising police property.'

This guy is in his early twenties. He has zero facial hair and is about as fresh faced as they come. He's nervous. I can tell by the way he's holding his gun. His entire body is rigid. He's nothing like the man that abducted me, who, by comparison, is the living embodiment of calm under pressure.

I find myself calling back to him. 'I'm no threat, I just wanted to get your attention.'

'I'll decide if you're a threat or not.' He yells back. 'Now I'm not gonna say it again, put your hands on your head and kneel on the ground or I will shoot.'

I shake my head in disbelief but know better than to press an agitated young white-male cop with a gun aimed at me.

'Okay,' I yell back, 'I'm doing it.' I place my hands on my head and kneel as asked. The young man watches me for a moment, waiting to see if I'll stay in my position of submission. When he realises I'm willing to comply he emerges pensively from the partial cover that his open door affords and moves toward me, arms outstretched, gun aimed at me. As he makes his approach he mirandises me, 'You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to a lawyer during questioning. If you can not afford a lawyer one will be appointed to you. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer you have the right to stop answering at anytime. Do you understand your rights as I've informed you now?'

The kid is more nervous than I thought. His voice cracked a couple of times as he said all that. I wonder if this is his first arrest? I look past him at his police car, but the cab is empty. He's alone. No wonder he's on edge. 

'There's really no need for all this,' I say, when he's only a few feet away. He ignores me and repeats, 'Do you understand your rights as I informed you just now?' 

I sigh, then say, 'Yes.' Not willing to argue with someone so evidently stubborn. My experience with police is that it's best to play their game and not to rile them unnecessarily. I'll get my chance to speak eventually, I know that. 

'Put your hands behind your back, slowly. Do not stand up.'

I do as instructed, lowering my arms behind my back. The officer then snaps cuffs around my wrists.