Average Joe and the Extraordinaires

by Belart Wright

  Borland: “Do you know where the girls were headed?”

  Joe: “I don’t. We were separated.”

  Borland: “I see. What about the little girl’s name? Do you remember it?”

  Joe: “Her name was Melissa.”

  There was a flash of recognition in Borland’s eyes and he whispered, “That’s good,” so low that Joe could barely hear him.

  Chapter 10

  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.”

  Villain View 1

  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.

  Chapter 11

  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.”

  Chapter 12

  Clear My Name???

  Borland: “You really are an idiot aren’t you? Come on, we’re going back.”

  Borland smelled strange. He usually reeked of old guy aftershave, but now he actually smelled pleasant. Too pleasant.

  Joe: “Hold on, let me tie my shoe.”

  Joe thought of ways to buy himself some time. He was thinking, thinking … thinking.