As soon as he got back to his apartment, Jerry turned on the news. There it was: “Breaking news: Wife of abortion doctor shot; condition critical.”
That couldn’t be. Jerry read the headline again. Wife shot. Not doctor? There had to be some mistake. The TV reporter was talking: “...unconfirmed reports say the woman threw herself in the line of fire to protect her husband. We are also hearing the doctor’s wife was pregnant. The doctor was reportedly unharmed…”
Jerry went into the bathroom and vomited.
----
The news story was developing fast. Every network tried to beat the other to the punch. It was the work of some right-wing religious fanatic, pundits were swift to declare; the love child of talk radio and radical Republicans. In-depth analyses of survivalist cults and conservative quasi military units filled TV broadcast and online traffic. Bloggers expounded on the relationship between religion and violence.
The woman’s condition was updated hourly. It seemed she might survive the attack.
But her fetus was dead.
Jerry’s heart stopped. It stopped cold. His mind refused to accept the awful realization. This anti-abortion soldier had slain -- not an abortionist, but an innocent unborn child. It was too much. He couldn’t take it in. He remembered a line from somewhere: “I am become death.” [I have become the thing I hate most.] Jerry teetered on the brink of insanity. He picked up his gun. His hand made the gun point to his head.
The apartment door burst open. “Police! Don’t move!” a voice from somewhere said. The gun was grabbed out of Jerry’s hand. His hands were cuffed behind his back.
----
The swift arrest had been made possible by the shooting victim’s description of her assailant. Jerry was well known to authorities as the surviving twin of the attempted bombing of the abortion clinic.
“I should be dead! I should be the one! Not him! Not him!" Jerry sobbed as the police took him away.
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