All twelve uniformed officers converged on the scene, guns drawn. I’d already holstered my weapon—I did it automatically after the threat was over. Besides, it’s generally a bad idea to have a gun in hand in the vicinity of police officers—especially if they’re already jumpy. Some of the officers headed for Donnie Martin, his lifeless body sprawled faceup on the pavement. Others headed for the red Expedition. “Get on the ground!” They had their weapons drawn and pointed at DeMichael Hollins, Crystal, and Kelli. “Out of the car!” they yelled at Hollins. For his part, Hollins seemed like he was completely stunned at the turn of events. One second, he’s going on a shopping trip. The next second, a police car pulls up, his best friend pulls a gun and opens fire and is in turn killed right in front of his eyes, not six feet away. And now, the police were all over, guns pointed at him, ordering him out of the car. “Show me your hands!” an officer standing right outside the driver’s door yelled.
