I'll just repost some stories I already posted.
It was February 15th, 2003, about 1:00am. I was standing at the register, ringing up customers. The place was fairly packed as it typically was at that time of night on a Friday night/Saturday morning, probably more so because it was Valentine's day; bars had just closed, etc. I was always very aware of what went on in the parking lot, my head always on a swivel. I watched an older Cadillac pull up to one of the pumps and stop. Right behind it a Jeep Cherokee came sliding in. 4 guys jumped out of each car and started getting into it. I turned to my clerk and told her to call the cops. I had a bad feeling. She dialed 911 and told them there was a fight in the lot. I was still ringing up customers and keeping an eye on the guys in the lot. They were yelling back and forth. The clerk was giving a description to the police when I watched one of the guys (from the Jeep) pull out a pistol and start waving it around. Clerk relayed the info to the dispatcher.
One of the guys from the Caddy got in the face of the guy with the gun. Gun guy didn't like that. Pointed it at the guy, one shot to the head. Blew the guys hat off, along with brains and what not out the back of his head. As the guy was falling, clearly already dead, gun guy put 2 more rounds into his chest. The 3 remaining guys from the Caddy ran, jumped into the car and tore out of the parking lot, leaving their now dead buddy behind. Gun guy starts shooting at the departing car, I hit the floor. The clerk is screaming at the dispatcher, customers are hitting the floor, it's going nuts. The shooting stops, I look back up and the guys from the Jeep are dragging the dead dude across the parking lot. They throw him in the back of the Jeep (the cargo area) and take off. I grab the phone from the clerk and let the dispatcher know the direction they had went. The police were already close and the helicopter was too. They located the Jeep on the freeway just over a mile away, the guys in the Jeep told them the guy was their friend and they were trying to get him to a hospital (This is information I learned from the detectives a little later in the night). This was obviously a lie.
Customers scatter, Police show up and close the place down. Yellow tape, the whole 9 yards. Separated my clerk and I and questioned us. I told them what I had seen. They brought the shooter back in a squad car and had me ID him. Investigation went on till about 6am. When they left, they didn't clean up the mess. The F.D. said because it was outside, it was no big deal. They did collect the chunks of skull and brain, but left all the blood. So, I got to head out there with a powerwasher and hose it all down. Nice. I've never seen so much blood. It looked like someone took 2 gallons of milk and poured it out. By the time I got to clean it up, it was like jelly. That was the worst part of it.
This tweaker always came into the store, and I knew him well. He was always stealing shit from me but I could never catch him in the act. I KNEW he stole shit, but he was good and would wait until I was tied up at the register and couldn't watch him. If I didn't see him actually steal stuff, I couldn't do anything for threat of lawsuit. Well, he came in one night and I'd had enough. He walked around behind the checkstand where we kept all the sandwiches; which was his favorite thing to steal. I was in the middle of a transaction, I told the customer to hold on, and peeked around the side of the checkstand and watched him stuff 4 or 5 sandwiches into his jacket. He didn't even see me. I went back to customer and finished the transaction. Tweaker is heading out the door. I tell my clerk (who's helping other customers) I'll be back and hop the counter to stop him. I grab his jacket and tell him to stop. He decides to run. Against my better judgement, I chased him outside. He had a pedo van parked at one of the gas pumps. He's trying to get in, and I keep slamming the door every time he tries to open it. He's cursing at me, and I'm cursing at him to give me my fucking sandwiches back. This goes on for a little bit and I decide it's a waste of time. I tell the guy to keep my food and get the fuck off my property. I back off and he gets in the van. Except it wasn't to leave. He apparently decided I was worth killing over. I'm standing there, maybe 3 feet from the van, watching him go. He gets in and starts digging on the floor. Ahh fuck. I can't see what he's getting, but he's starting to get out. My mind is going a million miles a second. Should I draw? Do I have time if he has a gun? Whatever he's got he has it in his left hand and it's coming out the door. In a split second I realized there was no way I was going to be able to wait to see what he had and then shoot him (if it was a gun) before he got shots off at me.
So, I did what anyone would do. I charged. I put all my weight into slamming that van door closed on his arm as hard as I fucking could. I drilled it. 230 lbs of fear, anger, and an intense drive for self-preservation slammed into that door at full tilt. Just as I hit the door, his hand was coming out and I saw his weapon. A screw driver. As the door crushed his arm all I could think was how fucking pissed I was that this guy was going to try to shank me with a screwdriver. Then he started screaming. And I mean fucking SCREAMING. The door caught him right below the wrist, the screwdriver clattered to the ground. I have no doubt the bones in arm were crushed. I stood there, shaking. To be totally honest, I was fucking terrified. Not in a shit my pants way, but because I realized what a bad decision I had made. I mean, yeah, I made lots of bad decisions, but this one was way up there.