Read Average Joe and the Extraordinaires Online
Authors: Belart Wright
Average Joe and the Extraordinaires (6 page)
Then
Who's Protecting Me?
Joe wanted
to know what Borland’s next move was going to be, but the old man was focusing
intently on something and Joe had only now begun to figure out what that was.
A pair of nearly inaudible footsteps was nearing them. They were slow and
cautious, most likely to avert attention, but that had only made them more
noticeable to Borland and Joe.
There was
a lull in the footsteps when they seemed near enough to the doorway. Borland
and Joe sat in complete silence. After a few more moments, the silence became
unbearable and Borland broke it.
Borland:
“Anybody there? Don’t be shy.”
A man
emerged from the door looking sickly. He stood by the door hesitantly and was sweating
bullets.
Borland:
“Murphy, right?”
The man
looked startled at Borland’s question.
Borland:
“Carl should’ve mentioned that he and I had an arrangement.”
The
strange officer and Borland stared at each other for a moment, and when the
officer didn’t respond Borland spoke up.
Borland:
“I’m almost done here. Would you mind waiting outside?”
BANG!!!
Joe had
seen the man reach for something, but only after the shot did he register what
it was. What was most surprising to Joe was that he was still alive. The man had
been looking dead at him, Joe could swear it. He didn’t know what the heck was
happening. He was flat on his back and looking up at the gunman. He felt a
dull pain at the back of his head and was disoriented. Borland, who had been at
his side only seconds ago, was now gone. With a teary-eyed and desperate look
on his face, the gunman pointed his pistol dead at Joe. Joe knew what awaited
him, and knew he couldn’t escape it. He expected the split second of pain from
the hot lead juxtaposed by the eternity of cold unlife.
He looked
up and blinked, then saw Borland on top of the gunman. The gun soared through
the air, and an instant later Borland stood over the man as he slumped down to
the floor. Borland grabbed the man’s own handcuffs and cuffed him with them.
He screamed at Joe.
Borland:
“Don’t just lie down there! Get your sorry butt off the ground!”
Joe could
hear an engine roaring loudly in the distance. The roar came back three times,
louder and louder each time. After that, he heard tires screeching and
vibrations could be felt approaching.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
A huge
explosion rocked the building and sent dust flying through the air. Joe heard
a lot of screaming from outside the room. Joe had never heard men scream like
that. He scrambled to his feet as fast as he could. Borland was the closest
thing he had for safety, he hoped. He stuck close to the man as he had done
with both Beauty and Dahlila. He was weary and wary of continuously placing
his safety in the hands of others. As he saw it, he also had no choice.
At
least he isn’t trying to kill me right now
, he thought to himself.
Borland
was smart. He knew that picking up the officer’s gun marked him for dead, but
he also knew there was something bigger at play and felt that he was probably
marked for dead any way he sliced it.
Better to go out fighting
, the
old codger thought.
The heat
in the building had intensified, and now Joe could hear gunfire. All he had to
protect him was a graying old man, and that made his stomach twist, turn, and
knot. There were no windows in this room or in the hall that led to the front
of the building. That’s where all the shooting was. They slowly walked down
the hall.
BANG!
The new
hole that was pierced into the wall between Borland and Joe had shown Joe that
his life could end so fast that he wouldn’t know he was dead. Bullets were
much faster in real life than they were on T.V., Joe was learning. Maybe
whoever had just shot at them couldn’t decide if they wanted Joe or Borland dead
first. An indecisive murderer wasn’t a very good one.
Borland:
“Get your head out of the clouds, kid, and run!”
Joe
snapped out of his daze and quickly ran near Borland, a.k.a. the old salty man
with the gun. The bullpen was a wreck and pandemonium reigned. Desks were
flipped and fleeting papers were scattered everywhere and looked ghostly as
they fell from and floated through the air amidst a flurry of bullets. Borland
ducked behind a wooden pillar near the desks. Joe opted to stick as close as
he could to the floor by crawling. He couldn’t see anything. The cops on his
side looked to be shooting in the opposite direction, and more importantly not
at Joe himself. He wasn’t sure how long that would last considering what had just
happened in the interrogation room.
Joe
looked up and saw Borland still as a rock and with a firm grip on his gun.
Borland let out a shot and Joe heard more yelling on the other side.
“Hank,
get your old hide over here,” yelled a voice that Joe recognized from earlier.
It was the man named Carl that Borland had spoken to earlier.
Borland:
“Carl! They want this boy dead. He knows things they don’t want to be known.”
Carl:
“Who’s they?”
Borland:
“That’s what I’m—”
A bullet
hit the pillar near Borland’s shoulder and he squeezed his gun off a few times
at the enemies’ direction.
Borland:
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
Carl:
“Listen! Get him the heck outta here and figure out what this is all about.
That hallway down there leads to an office with a window you can safely jump
out of. Take it!”
Borland:
“Thanks, Carl. Don’t die in here.”
Carl:
“Ha, I should say that to you. You’re looking a little rusty, old timer, now
get!”
Borland
yanked Joe up from the floor.
Borland:
“Keep your head down unless you want to eat a bullet.”
Joe
looked up instinctively for a brief second. What he saw confused him. On the
other side of the room were more cops, and they were shooting at the cops on
this side of the room.
Why were cops killing other cops?
It didn’t
make any sense. As he ran with Borland, he was trying to figure out why they
wanted him so dead. An image of the well-dressed gray-haired man flashed into
his mind. Maybe he was important. Borland had interrupted his telling of the
stadium’s events earlier for a description of the man, and seemed quite
interested.
They ran
down the hall unimpeded, and into a room that looked like some sort of office. They
found their window only slightly elevated from the ground outside. Borland
scoped out the area and jumped first, followed by Joe.
Joe:
“Where are we going?”
Borland:
“First to my car, and if we can make it in one piece, then you’re going to lay
low at my place for a while.”
Old Friends
What a bloodbath,
thought
the mannerable man as he surveyed the scene near the police station.
Ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars were everywhere, parked chaotically at
the scene. The man himself stood a distance from the scene and wore a dark
hooded shirt, opposite to his normal style of dress. He watched as paramedics,
firemen, and police from other districts scrambled in and around the building
gathering survivors and putting out fires. It was pure mayhem.
The man shook his head at the thought of the carnage, and how
it was all for nothing. His orders had come too fast; there had been no time to
put together a solid plan, and so his efforts had boiled down to this madness.
The thugs he used weren’t the brightest, which made them easier to control, but
they were extra vicious. The hardest part was getting all those police uniform
replicas together for them to wear. The extra confusion didn’t seem to be helping
his plan at all though. He felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket, so he
left the scene to sit in his car. He took the call as he walked back.
Mannerable Man: “Hello?”
A deep and commanding voice on the other end answered him with
a question.
Commanding Man: “Is it done?”
The mannerable man paused and considered what he could say.
There was no point in lying, he reasoned; it wouldn’t do him much good. His
old friend knew him in and out and would find out the truth eventually. He
began to sweat, and bristled at the thought of admitting his failure.
Mannerable Man: “It is … but … he is still out there.”
Commanding Man: “It’s okay, old friend. I figured as much. I
am still impressed. Your level of control over that many men was masterful.
You said you could do it, but seeing it in action was spectacular.”
Mannerable Man: “Thank you. My abilities are evolving, it
seems.”
Commanding Man: “Yes, yes they are. I’ll need you to continue
with this task I gave you. We cannot afford to have any liabilities. That kid
is a big one.”
That left an unsavory taste lingering in the man’s mouth. He
had done some questionable things in his life, but killing kids wasn’t one of
them, at least not on purpose. A dark thought flashed in his mind along with
images of his friend Cynthia and he was suddenly saddened.
There was a pause on the line, brief but very palpable. Both
men knew its cause.
Commanding Man: “I’m sorry to make you do this, old friend. I
know it might bring forth certain ‘memories.’ I don’t want you to have to
experience those memories again.”
There was an intense relief for the worried man. He almost
let out a sigh of right there.
Commanding Man: “But we both know that you’re in the best
position to get this done. And it needs to get done. No liabilities can be
tolerated. None.”
Just like that, the mannerable man was crushed.
Commanding Man: “And keep an eye out for those two girls. We
only need the little one. She’s my little experiment.”
Mannerable Man: “Okay, it’ll get done.”
Click. He could do nothing but follow those orders.
The Must
Have Candy Bar
Joe
thought he was partially color-blind. This was thanks to how Hank Borland had
decorated his apartment. Everything in the place seemed to be either black,
gray, or brown. That combined with the lack of anything to do made the three
days Joe had spent here seem like three weeks.
Joe could
only wonder what Borland’s plan could be. Beyond laying some initial ground
rules, he was hardly present. When he was, he hardly talked, and said things
like, “Supper’s ready,” or “Stay here and keep a low profile.” Not exactly
illuminating conversation. What was worse was that Borland didn’t even own a
T.V. The only thing Joe had to keep him entertained was a window and a radio.
Joe usually listened to the news on the radio, and it was usually about him.
The way the news put it, he was the most sought-after man in the country, now
connected to two terrorist attacks. That’s where he heard Kate declare his
innocence. He could hardly choke back his own tears as he heard her voice
crack. He could see her tears in his mind as he heard her explain the
situation.
Kate: “… me,
my brother, and Joe were just watching the football game and having some laughs
when all this started.”
Some
reporter had cut in immediately.
Reporter:
“The police are saying that he’s the link between these tragedies.”
Kate: “He
has nothing to do with this, nothing!”
Joe could
hear Mod’s voice in the background, and saw him gently nudging his sister away
in his mind’s eye.
Mod:
“Come on, Kate. Let’s go, come on.”
Joe saw
it all vividly. Their voices came through so clear to him. He missed them so
much. He hadn’t realized that until now. That made him sad. He sat perfectly
still and restless for the next few hours and hoped Borland would return to
relieve him of this deathly boredom. Kate’s voice again cut into his thoughts.
Kate:
“You must have tapes somewhere. Just check them and you’ll see that we all
came in at the same time. You’ll see that the explosion happened while we were
in the stands. Joe couldn’t and wouldn’t ever do this.”
Joe could
practically see the tears on Kate’s face, and wanted nothing more than to wipe
her tears away and to tell her he was alright and that everything would be
okay.
************
On the
fifth day of his confinement, Joe could stomach his proverbial prison no more.
He also didn’t appreciate Borland’s diet for him. All he had to feed himself
with every day were lunchmeat sandwiches and T.V. dinners. Borland never
cooked, unless he counted nuking dinner in a microwave. Besides that, there was
nothing good in the cupboards either. Like the rest of his apartment, his cupboards
had only the barest of necessities.
Joe had
an extreme craving for some sweets. He’d eyed a vending machine in the main
lobby on the first day that he came. He imagined that in it would be a sole
Snickers bar waiting just for him. It called out to him “Joe, Joooooe. I can
wait no longer! My chocolately, caramelly, peanut-filled needs must be
fulfilled! I will now uncoil myself from these shackles and throw myself into
the uncertain abyss below. I know my worth, which comes out to about
eighty-five cents. Someone will eat me. I just hope it’s you.”
Joe could
wait no longer. He sprinted down the hall to the elevator. Right before he
got there a door swung open and out popped an older lady with gray hair that
was beginning to turn white, and deep blue eyes that seemed to shine regardless
of the lack of light.
Old lady:
“No running in the halls, young man. You should be careful about who sees you
out here.”
The old
lady’s stare lingered for longer than Joe was comfortable with. Joe got on the
elevator and ignored the woman. He was happy to be able to stretch his legs. The
elevator was quick and darted from floor six to three to one in no time. Joe
noticed that a lot of old timers stayed in the building. Joe thought old
people were okay. He loved his gram-gram and pop-pop. He even still called
them that, no matter how lame it sounded. Now he missed them too. Before this
whole ordeal, it had been a while since he’d last seen them. His pop-pop was
always on an alligator hunt, like a madman. His gram-gram, who had always
reluctantly tagged along on such trips, would never admit that she had as much,
if not more fun, than pop-pop. Joe could tell though.
The main
lobby was surprisingly spacious, especially when one considered the cramped
stylings of Borland’s apartment. It felt completely relaxed here. There were
big ferns by the doors and in some of the corners. The central air kept the
huge room comfortably cool with circulating air.
There
were more people in the lobby than Joe had expected. He didn’t know if it was
always this busy or if today was a special day. People were moving to and fro
all over the place. None seemed too interested in him, though, so he continued
on with slight caution. Too much caution would attract some attention, which
for Joe was too much attention.
Joe was
calm until the security guard at the front desk stared at him for a little too
long. About as long as the old lady on the sixth. Joe looked at the man for
only a flash and continued across the room to the vending machine. The man
stood up, which made Joe even more nervous. Out of the corner of his eye, he
could tell that the man was burning a hole straight through him. He’d hoped he
wasn’t recognized from the news reports. Only now had he realized the
absurdity and stupidity of his decision. Not only was he supposed to be hiding
from the law, he was also hiding from those who wanted to see him dead. Why
did he go to such lengths just to get a candy bar? Was he rebelling against
Borland? If so, that was incredibly stupid.
He put
his change into the machine, which was out of Snickers bars, and input the code
for the Kit Kat Big Kat. He picked up his bounty and looked over to the
security guard to see if he was still being leered at. Unfortunately, he still
was, and what’s more the guard was talking to someone on the phone as he was
doing it. That wasn’t good. Joe didn’t want to cross the guard again so he
stuck to the side of the building that he was already on which meant that he
couldn’t use the elevator. He resolved to find some stairs and climb up to the
sixth floor. On the eastern side of the building, he received a few stares
from people. This put him in a nearly panicked frenzy. He shuffled quickly
down the hall searching for and through doorways, looking quite suspicious. He
ducked down a hallway covered in shadows because he thought he’d spied some
stairs. The hall led to nowhere in particular. Joe walked back towards the
lighted hallway, but was suddenly grabbed brusquely by his left arm. His heart
nearly jumped out of his chest.
Once he
looked up and saw that it was Borland holding his arm, he placed his free hand
on his quickening heart and let out a huge sigh to calm himself.
Joe: “You
scared me.”
Joe
barely managed to say that between haggard breaths.
Borland:
“I could’ve done a lot more if I was so inclined. Real easy too. You’re a
clumsy and easily-killable mark. A dumb one too.”
Borland
looked at Joe and let go of the clamp that he had on his arm. A moment passed
by in silence.
Borland:
“What did I tell you, kid?”
Joe: “You
told me to stay put in the apartment.”
Joe
stared at the floor as he spoke. He felt incredibly guilty and stupid, which
he knew he was.
Borland:
“And why is that?”
Joe: “To
stay safe.”
Borland:
“So why are you here, unprotected, unsafe?”
Joe: “I
got hungry. There was nothing I wanted in the fridge.”
