Persona Non Grata

by D. C. Grahame

  Firefighters and police in unison cordoned the area off. Indy took a few steps back, counting the floors affected. The top six stories each had at least one room ablaze. The random layout of each fire suggested a deliberate ignition, potentially arson. It couldn’t have been, Indy thought. No one was that stupid. He dismissed such an idea up until he remembered the last time he spoke to Frank. He expected to hear devastation in his brother’s voice over Que Pasa’s demise, but instead Frank was optimistic. Almost excited by the insurance premium heading his way.

  Could Kane of set fire to his own property for an easy pay-out? It wasn’t beneath the man’s inclinations. But with such a proposition, Indy challenged himself to work out how the slum lord would manage to remove his tenants prior to events. An evacuation would take time and resources, not to mention it would gauge attention, scuppering any claim. A worrisome feeling struck Indy’s gut, as the nature of Kane’s character began to sink in. He wouldn’t.

  Indy drifted towards the senior firefighter who directed each of his men to take cranes up to the floors affected. Tackling the fire from the lowest level up.

  ‘Mick, we have one family unaccounted for, neighbours said they saw them ten minutes before the fires started. A mother and two children.’ one of the firefighters urgently announced.

  ‘Alright, Ian. Clive, you’re with me, we’ll go up and scan one more time.’ The superior commanded, grabbing his mask.

  Indy at that moment, regardless of reason, felt some kind of gravitational pull. Some sort of unknown and unshakeable force pulling him towards the inferno. Indy’s new found purpose in wearing the suit, becoming a vigilante. Was now driving him towards being a hero.

  It was like so many choices made in life. When one reached a single juncture between two convictions. Was Hades either to be a cult leader preaching revolution? Or a saviour leading by example. A dude in a mask with a tragic vendetta? Or the end-product of a person shouting enough is enough?

  As the pull towards the building increased, so did his sensibility. He was not a firefighter. Nor was the suit he had begun to wear almost subconsciously now, able to withstand such conditions. The right choice was to stand back and hope for the best. Place the responsibility in more qualified hands.

  It was a decision he would make as he retreated away from the building and the crowd. He felt justified in the choice, smart for once.

  But each step haunted him, not because of the family needing saviour but by the image of Kane’s face. And the old kingpin’s inability to consider those he would hurt in his ruthless ploys. Even if Kane wasn’t responsible, Indy had now convinced himself the man was.

  The firefighters themselves, heroes without a doubt. Were still just doing their job and did not deserve to risk their lives for the whims of a criminal. With such thinking, Indy had determined that this event was like any other crime. It would just proceed and inflict without reaction, without a fight.

  Away from the crowd, absent of onlookers. Indy pulled out the Hades mask from inside his coat pocket and slid it down across his face. He stripped his regular clothes off, dumping them into a nearby bin. Two kids sat on their bikes watched on from a distance, their mouths open in awe. Hades looked at the pair, delivering a brief friendly nod before darting away. Sprinting through a bewildered crowd and into the building’s empty ground floor.

  Making his way up the steps, exhausted from the climb. Indy spotted the firefighters, roaming the first of several burning floors. Out of sight, he ran up two more flights, hearing the sound of a child crying above. The temperature of the air grew higher and higher, and he felt the suit cling to his body.

  The kid’s cry rose in volume as he reached a wide corridor positioned between six apartment doors. The furthest one, blocked by a fence of fire.

  Seeing two small children standing over their unconscious mother. Indy called out to them only for the younglings to cry with even more intensity. Attempting to make his way to them. They both retreated backwards further into a room he could see was burning from the inside.

  Indy realised the subject of their fears was no longer the fire but the mask upon his face. Raising his hand in a peaceful gesture, he gripped the back of his mask to remove it.

  A cracking noise sounded from above, causing Indy to look up. A ceiling beam losing its hold collapsed from its structure and crashed down an inch from him. Indy dropped back to the ground, now as afraid for himself, as he was for the family trapped in front. The kids had now huddled up against each other, laying on their mother. The visual motivated Indy to gather himself. A thick dark smoke began to condense along the ceiling of the family’s apartment.

  ‘It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, stay with your mum there.’ Indy requested, forgetting about his masked demeanour.

  Feeling helpless with events far out of his league. Indy sprinted back to the stairwell, shouting for help. His menacing voice alarming one of the firefighters as they turned to the staircase. Initially apprehensive of Hades’s appearance but still focused on their jobs. They without question followed him to the family. Barging passed the red-hot ceiling beam with a large fire axe.

  Recovering the young family, each fireman carried a family member over their shoulder. A fourth firefighter watched on.

  Indy gave the corridor, and the few opened doors one final glance before turning for the exit.

  Immediately in front of him stood the fourth firefighter, his visor covered in dark soot. Indy engulfed in a hellish inferno, felt a cold, sharp pain sear through his abdomen. Struck by what felt like a thunderbolt. He looked down to see a thick, sharp knife thrust deep inside him. The handle held firm by the firefighter. Indy felt his waist numb, and his legs weaken, he grabbed hold of the attacker’s wrist for support. Scrutinising the visor as the knife lanced through his skin. He saw a grinning smile with a sudden and intermittent golden shimmer. Goldmolar had put the dagger to him, and he’d done so with a trap as theatrical as Hades’ attire.

  With his spare hand, the falsified firefighter gripped hold of Hades’s mask and pulled it. Indy countered, clutching the back of it. The brief tussle was cut short by yet another falling beam, this time crashing and hurling into the pair of them. Molar, catching the brunt of the timber, fell backwards, inadvertently removing the knife from Indy’s waist. Indy, in turn, collapsed to the floor as the fabric of his suit began to melt and ignite. A shadow in flames, spontaneously combusting. He rolled on the floor to extinguish the ambers.

  Indy, now struggling to breathe from the severe wound. Began to choke and suffocate within the gathering smoke. Hearing the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs, he considered his options. Terrified and unprepared. He began to weep. The excruciating pain deepening with every twitching movement.

  ‘Check the floor for any more residents!’ he heard a firefighter yell out, giving him an immediate and desperate idea.

  He removed his mask and lobbed it into the fire. Followed by his suit, albeit very painfully.

  Grabbing a backup burner phone he had gaffer-taped to his right calf, he texted HOSPITAL MOLAR to John’s number before tossing the device into the fire as well.

  Lying in the real world’s interpretation of hell, wearing nothing but his boxers, he waited and hoped for support. Feeling defeated and lost. He could feel the hairs on his arms begin to singe. This was it. He was convinced.

  The firefighters rushed into the corridor. Urgent at the sight of an injured colleague and a maimed civilian resting on the ground.

  ‘It’s okay son. We’ve got you.’ A firefighter comforted. Carrying Indy over his shoulder, unaware the boy was leaking blood.

  With every gruelling, descending step of the six or seven flights down, Indy felt winded and beaten. The blood of his wound pouring down the back of the firefighter’s coat. The suffering grew so much that the prospect of fainting seemed like a euphoric fantasy. With all vision and sound diminishing, he slowly fell out of consciousness.

  Two firefighters kneeled either side of Molar, ta
pping his helmet hoping to awake him.

  ‘Hey Trevor, Trevor!’ one yelled, rubbing the visor clear of soot.

  ‘That’s not Trevor?’ The other muttered, confused.

  Molar awoke alert. Seeing Hades absent, he realised his impending failure once again. He rocketed up and passed his supposed colleagues.

  Arriving at the main entrance with a crowd now quadruple in size. Molar removed his helmet and looked at the emergency service vehicles, seeing only fire engines. Jogging passed several dubious firefighters before seeing an ambulance disappear into the distance.

  ‘Who’s in that ambulance?’ he asked another firefighter with a hostile tone.

  ‘One of them was carrying a family of three, another one, a naked guy.’ The man replied, keen to clock off now that the fire was almost extinguished. ‘Wait, who are you?’ he asked to no response.

  A perseverant Molar turned back to the now empty road, adamant that the night had only just begun.

  ✽

  John sprinted through the hospital’s east wing, following the signs to intensive care. He could hear the sound of disruption behind him. Believing it to be some of Molar’s men in a tussle with hospital security.

  Checking each bed in the ward, he finally found Indy, clothed in a hospital gown, attempting to climb out of his bed.

  Grabbing a wheelchair nearby. John wasted no time on pleasantries, helping his younger brother onto the chair. Picking up a baseball cap from a neighbouring, asleep patient’s bedside. He placed it on top of his younger sibling’s head.

  ‘Keep your face down. There are cameras in the corridors.’ John advised, wheeling him out of the ward and into the hallway.

  ‘John I...’

  ‘Quiet Indy. Apologies later.’ John demanded, hearing several determined nurses rebuff some unwanted guests.

  ‘He’s not this side, check the other ward.’ A man ordered from a place unknown as a nurse demanded to know their business in the hospital. John turned a sharp left and backed Indy into an accessible toilet. Tucking them both behind the door which he deliberately left open.

  As two of Molar’s thugs ran passed, John peeked through a small gap between the door and its hinges. All clear, he steered the wheelchair towards the service entrance of the hospital wing.

  ‘Nothing here, double back.’ a man moaned, causing John to gather tempo as he drove his brother down the corridor.

  ‘Wait, I can hear something.’ A man announced. Their footsteps now at a similar pace to John’s.

  Realizing that they would soon be caught. He parked Indy outside the service-entrance doors. Texting an awaiting Red to pick his little brother up from the locale.

  Diverting their pursuit, he moved back to the hospital wing, deliberately catching their eye as he made his escape.

  In a foot pursuit, John threw his fist toward a wall and tripped a fire alarm. Causing both security and alarmed caretakers to join them in the chaos. John submissively sidestepped the incoming traffic while the thugs expected all in front to deviate out of their way. As they crashed into security, John made a casual exit through the main entrance doors.

  Climbing into his car, he checked the rear-view to see if anyone was on his tail. All clear once more, he initiated the engine and grabbed hold of the gear-stick, looking ahead. His mind oblivious to a sizeable speeding vehicle blasting toward his right. Molar at the wheel of a delivery truck rammed his much larger metal into John’s small and stolen city car. Crushing the chassis until it began to wrap around the truck’s front.

  Astonished onlookers watched as a whistling Molar casually unbuckled his seatbelt. Kicking his semi-jammed door open.

  John was out cold, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. Molar took pleasure in the view, if for only a fleeting moment. He had again failed to accomplish Kane’s whims. Capture the elusive vigilante and bring him to the mansion. As much as Molar would have loved to cut his former opponent’s heart out with a spoon. A broken but alive John Vinyar would undoubtedly sweeten his failures with the man that paid him. Especially when the aged kingpin’s patience was at this moment, wafer thin.

  Molar’s thugs rendezvoused with him, standing either side of their leader’s contemplative stance.

  ‘No luck boss.’ One conceded.

  ‘Tape him up and get him in the truck.’ Molar ordered, wondering if the vigilante was still somewhere on the premises.

  Hearing the sound of a collision, Indy attempted to wheel his chair down a ramp and onto the road. His efforts cut short by an anxious Red who had just witnessed Molar and his men carrying John into a truck.

  ‘Get in.’ Red yelled, climbing out of the car and helping Indy, ‘Molar’s taken your brother.’ he explained, causing Indy to jump up alarmed, only to wince in pain immediately after.

  ‘We have to get him.’ Indy demanded.

  ‘Yeah sure, let’s climb into the Batmobile, I’ve got one of Tony Stark’s spare suits in the boot.’ Red responded dismissive and upset. ‘Fucking Volcano boy. Look at what’s happened, what’s going to happen. Your brother will pay for your dumb-ass mistakes.’ Red anguished, worried at the thought of Molar and Kane’s intentions.

  ‘We need to get to the roof of the Old Market.’ Indy insisted, sitting in the back of the car.

  ‘The Old Market, why?’ Red asked puzzled as Indy looked back, keeping mute. Red, an intelligent man, quickly gleaned the reasoning behind the request. ‘You’re kidding me.’

  ‘It doesn’t have the tasers, but it will do.’

  ‘You’ve got a second suit?’ Red moaned, envisioning the moment someone found it at his venue. ‘Well forget it, you’re too weak to open a can of beans, never mind siege the big man’s mansion.’

  ‘You’re going to help me, Red.’ Indy informed with a determined, aggressive resonance. Red recognised the intonation all too well. It sounded like John.

  ‘I think Frank’s becoming my favourite.’ Red moaned to himself, turning off the main street.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  John awakened in darkness. The echo of his breath indicated he was inside an ample open space. Wondering if the place was some form of limbo. If he had maybe died in the collision with the truck. A blinding light from above brought him back down to Earth, blasting his eyelids.

  Isaac Kane stood in the doorway of his garage, activating a series of fluorescent bulbs. John squinted in response, struggling to focus on his old foe. His arms and legs tied to a chair positioned in the middle of a large workshop.

  ‘Hello, John. A long time.’ Kane greeted with a calm voice.

  ‘Isaac.’ John replied with an air of surprise. ‘If I’m honest, I thought this was all Molar’s little crusade. I thought you and the old man had an understanding.’ John replied.

  ‘An understanding? An understanding is reached on very certain terms, John. That so-called accord with your father. Is nothing now. Now that I know the truth.’ Kane stated, crouching down to John’s seated height. John appeared almost daunted by the phrasing. ‘You come from a family of snakes, John. I’ve long suspected what you boys were up to.’ He said almost cryptic, ‘It won’t be long until the others know of your father’s ploy.’ The statement held weight with John, but he wasn’t going to give anything away. Appearing as blank-faced as he could.

  ‘I think they’ve grown tired of you and your paranoid theories, Isaac. Why else do you think they’ve phased in the young gun?’ John said equally vague.

  ‘You were a prince among kings, John. You could of had it all. But you and your father are too alike.’ Kane stated, standing up straight. ‘Maybe you’re right about them. Maybe they are tired of me. But I assure you, just like tonight, sometime from now, there will be a reckoning.’ Kane declared.

  He stomped down on John’s chest, sending both him and the chair crashing backwards. John flinched as his weight slammed down on his cuffed forearms.

  ‘If you torture me, you’ll have to kill me. That’s the only way you come out of this unscathed.’ John warned.
<
br />   ‘Spoken like a man who’s never been properly tortured before. Righty-o.’ Kane replied, flicking a power switch as he picked up two electric clamps. John looked over and saw the apparatus, a growing fear led him to bluff in desperation.

  ‘My name’s not the only thing you should be apprehensive of, Isaac.’

  ‘Ah yes, the man in the mask. A crazy world we live in. I’ll admit I have a shortlist of fools, each name as ludicrous as the next. The notion that Frank would risk himself for you is unlikely. His timid twin is probably in a police station, filing a missing person report for you right now. Anyone else, well, I struggle to consider anyone else dumb enough to protect you.’ Kane theorised.

  ‘You’d be surprised how connected us Vinyars are.’ John smiled. Kane mimicked his cocky facial expression.

  ‘When you say connected?’ he replied, casually attaching his victim’s hands to the electrified clamps. John vaulted upward as the electricity raced through him. The malevolent Kane stood up and quickly flicked the power mains off, giving John a moment to recuperate. ‘You killed my boy. Your father stole my legacy. And your brother threatens my ecosystem. That pain you feel. Believe me when I say this my dear boy. That pain is mercy.’ Kane promised, turning a dial-up next to the current’s power switch. ‘It is mercy. A vaccine. A diluted dose of the suffering you will endure over the course of this night. I hope you built some tolerance in those five seconds because this evening’s about to feel like ten years.’ Kane prescribed as a muted yet defiant John looked back, panting exhaustively. ‘Ah yes, that Vinyar defiance we know and love. Here, you hold this while I get us set-up.’ Kane muttered, attaching the clips to John’s hands once more. As John flurried on the ground, drool spewing from his mouth. Kane examined his tools, a variety of apparatus he had saved for this very event. Giddy with excitement, he dropped down to John and detached the clamps once again.

  Outside the thick, almost sound-proof walls. Fireworks began sounding from the gardens bordering the mansion. Kane looked towards the source of the explosive sounds as a chuckle escaped his mouth.