"Oh my god, I think I killed him!" , the young woman holding a shovel shouted.

I answered, "I'll check. Stay back. Where is he?"

She said, "In the back yard. He surprised me on the patio. He tried to grab me but I smacked him." Her hand were shaking as she held the shovel at port-arms.

I pulled my Beretta and clicked off the safety and pulled my mag-lite.

I keyed my radio and said, "This is one-L-19 responding to complaint of a prowler, I'm Code 2 at 145 Pine Valley Highway. 10-70 reported in the back yard. Roll backup."

Dispatch responded, "One-L-19, Code 2, any available backup please respond."

I wasn't holding my breath for back up. As crazy as things were going that night, I wasn't really expecting any for a while.

"Mam- go inside and lock the doors. I'm going to clear your back yard."

She said, "Deputy, be careful. There's something not right about him". Then she disappeared inside the garage door with her shovel and I heard the latch snap.

If it was illegal aliens in this neighborhood it would be a first. The surrounding terrain was some of the roughest desert in the South West. This little berg was a well-to-do far flung suburb of Tuscon way out south of Red Rock.

I went around the side of the house and found the gate to the back yard standing open. There was a diffused blue light coming from a bug-zapper on the other side of the fence. As I passed the gate there was a distinct smear of dark blood. Thought to myself- it looks like she got a piece of him.

As I went into the back yard, I yelled, "Pima County Sheriff's Office! Let me see your hands!"

I swept the yard with my mag lite and saw nothing on my first sweep. It was a nice place. It was a fenced in back yard with a pool, pool house and tool shed. The tool shed door was standing wide open and a light was on inside.

As I swept through the yard, I saw a shadow move in the tool shed. I came around, put the mag-lite and Beretta on the door of the shed and ordered, "You in the shed. Come out and let me see your hands."

Suddenly a big guy in army fatigues, combat boots and a holstered side arm appeared in the door of the shed. The flash-light beam in his face made him stop. There was blood on the side of his face and he appeared quite pale. What bothered me the most was the blood on his hands. Holy shit. What I stumbled into?

On seeing his side arm I yelled, "Drop the weapon. Drop it now!"

He started coming toward me and began accelerating.

I yelled one more time, "Drop the weapon and get on your knees. Last warning!"

He continued to accelerate toward me.

I shot him twice, center mass and he fell on his back.

I keyed my radio mike and said, "Shots fired, shots fired, suspect down! I need a bus and a supervisor now!"

I approached the suspect, leaned over and took the pistol out of his holster. As I was securing his weapon, the suspect opened his eyes and made a grab for my legs.

"Stay down! There's an ambulance on the way!"

The suspect rolled over, got up and came after me again.

I took two more shots and dropped him again.

He got up faster this time. I put two more rounds in his chest and another two in his head. This time he didn't get up.

I looked around at the scene and there was blood and gore everywhere.

Somewhere in the night I heard the boom of a shot gun. The shot gun went off three more times and there was a blood curdling scream.

I heard the gate creek and I turned to see another messed up person shambling into the back yard. The man was in his thirties and had a bloody neck wound.

I ordered him to halt but he kept coming for me. I shot him twice once in the chest and one in the head. As soon as he had dropped a horribly injured Mexican man came through the gate snarling and running toward me. I shot him twice and went dry. I quickly slammed another magazine into my gun and decided that it was time to get the hell out of Dodge.

As I ran through the gate there were two more. I shot them both and sprinted for my cruiser when I saw dozens of those things coming toward me. I jumped in the patrol car, fired it up and ran over three of them as I ran like hell.

What had just happened? Why had I just left the scene of a shooting and run over three people? What the hell was going on? What was wrong my my freaking bullets? Nobody got up after taking center mass shots at close range. Nobody. Were they wearing body armor? Nothing made sense. I could tell that I was in shock.

I listened to my police radio as unit after unit reported civilian gunfire, shots fired by officers and people acting crazy.

It was a huge tangled mess of desperate radio calls for help.

The world was falling apart for no apparent reason.