Call the police

You go back inside and pull your phone off the charger. You're not sure if illegal fireworks or a wild party counts as a true emergency, so you look up the non-emergency number and dial. A dispatcher answers and you give her your name, address, and a description of the suspicious light. She says that an officer is on the way. You thank her and hang up.

Wandering back out onto the patio, you watch the light flicker for a few minutes and wonder if you made the right call. If it's fireworks, absolutely. The grass and brush is so dry right now, one errant spark could set the whole preserve ablaze. Even a bunch of careless kids at a party, smoking, drinking, maybe a bonfire...it was a disaster waiting to happen. But a party...you're dying to drink, dance, make out with a stranger -- any kind of human interaction would be welcome. It's been just you and this damn cat -- Mr. Whiskers -- for far too long, and he doesn't even like you, he just puts up with you because you keep filling his food bowl.

Finally, you see headlights sweep across the back fence as a police car turns down the narrow gravel road that leads into the preserve. You watch the tail lights until they disappear behind a stand of spindly trees and blackberry bushes. Good. Tragedy averted.

Feeling satisfied with your good deed, you turn to go back inside, but stop dead as a loud pop pop pop pop rings out in the night, followed by a deeper, more robust bang bang bang.

Gunshots? Seriously? Or fireworks? Funny, the purple flashing from before hadn't made any noise. You see one last blinding burst of light, then the sky goes dark. A moment later, red and blue lights flare to life and you can hear faint shouting in the distance. What is going on?