Mad, Mad World

by J. D. Sloane

  He glanced at his phone as it let out a low beep and felt his brow furrow as something popped up on his screen.

  “What is this?’

  “Something you need to see. Just watch it.”

  Michael tapped at the screen quickly as a sudden news image sprang to life below his fingertips, the scrolling red banner below it flashing ‘Breaking News’ in big bold letters.

  “…police have been dispatched to the location of the girl who remains unidentified,” the live voice of a reporter broke through as the image became clearer. “But the building has been verified as the former home and stronghold of well-known criminal Ronan White. As most people know, White escaped from Connor prison almost two weeks ago and is currently the subject of a citywide manhunt, suspected of murdering at least four others, all associated with his conviction.”

  Michael’s eyes flew over the screen as the faraway image of what looked like a person dangling from a balcony lurched into a sudden shaky close-up, the feedback becoming garbled as the camera steadied.

  “And there, this terrifying image is the first we have of this ongoing hostage situation. I think we have, yes we have…”

  Michael gritted his teeth as the voice feed jumped to static and realized that the quick choppy image was being filmed from another building, probably from a distance. In the image a young girl dangled from a large stone statue at the edge of White’s stone balcony four stories above the ground. He zoomed in on the image as he saw that some kind of white rope was wrapped around her narrow waist and that her hands seemed to be bound to the statue above her, the fingers on both hands clasped together as if she was trying to relieve the tension. Michael shook his head as he saw that the girl was blindfolded, her white button-down blouse closed over her breasts and felt a sudden surge of rage as he saw that her torso was covered in blood red letters, scrawled above her lacy underwear like a brand across her skin.

  ‘Where?’ the word read in wide, shaky script.

  Michael closed the image suddenly as the girl opened her mouth, trying to pull her hands tighter as the wind whipped her hair behind her and threw the car into reverse, holding his phone back up to his mouth as he spun the wheel with one hand.

  “I see it, Byron,” he said, his voice hard and clipped. “I’m on my way.”

  “Michael, the police…”

  “I’m closer,” he said as he tore through the intersection and read the street signs, accelerating wildly as he hit the freeway. “They won’t get to her in time.”

  “I didn’t tell you so you could save the girl. This isn’t your fight, Michael. But you can use this to draw him out. To end this once and for all…”

  Michael shook his head, sneering with a moment of pure rage and then hung up without answering, tossing the phone to the floor as it began to ring again. He tapped the console with one hand and then glanced in the rearview mirror as the GPS leapt to life.

  “King’s Court Motel,” he said out loud.

  “King’s Court Motel,” the calm, female voice of his GPS answered almost immediately. “Turn right in point six miles. Estimated trip time eight minutes.”

  Eight minutes if I was driving the speed limit, he thought, hitting the gas as he passed through a yellow light at over eighty miles an hour. And I still have to find a way into the building.

  He racked his memory for any other surrounding buildings he could remember around White’s apartment and had rejected for one reason or another and felt a wave of frustration drive his anger higher as he drew a dismal blank.

  Good thing I have almost five minutes left to figure it out, he thought reaching into his jacket as the map changed slightly.

  He pulled out his leather gloves and then tossed them to the side, glancing in the rearview mirror as the weighted knuckles hit the seat beside him with a soft slap.

  “Take a right at the next corner and then continue for two tenths of one mile.”

  Michael pumped the brakes lightly and then took the corner at twice the posted speed, the car jack-knifing across the asphalt before he righted it by flooring the gas.

  Just a little longer, he thought, his brow furrowing slightly as glanced at the time. Let her hold on just a little while longer.

  Jessica felt the wind rise around her and heard a low scream leave her lips as her shirt whipped around her chest, the white rope that bound her to the statue at the end of the balcony cutting into her wrists so deeply that she could feel a warm trickle of blood running down the length of one arm. What she could still feel of her arms, which wasn’t much. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to make a sound, knowing that was exactly what White had wanted. It was the sole reason he had left the balcony doors open and the reason that she knew deep down that she was never going to get out of this alive.

  Because Dad stole the only girl from him he ever truly cared about, she thought. And he isn’t going to stop until he returns the favor.

  She felt her teeth slam together as she tried to pull herself higher, the sweat from her hands making it impossible to fold them together and screamed again as the rope tied to her waist slid a little lower on the arm of the statue, her body inching towards the edge of the balcony as she forced herself to look up. Above her the November sky was clear and bright. Jessica closed her eyes, filled with a wave of helpless rage as a fresh gust swept her towards the balcony and felt the rope at her waist shift over her ribs, the movement causing her wrists to shriek in a sudden symphony of agony.

  I have to do something, she thought, letting out a quick breath she could see in the air around her. If I could just swing back towards the balcony I could try to yank a hand loose. I would still fall, but it might be a controlled fall. I could get lucky. First time for everything.

  Jessica risked a look downward, her stomach dropping as she saw the maze of police cars below her and swallowed hard as she inched her leg back slightly, trying to build up momentum as she swung outward first and then let simple gravity drive her back. Her eyes snapped open as she felt her foot slide past the stone railing and licked her lips, the cold air wicking the moisture away from her almost instantly.

  Couple more tries, she thought, panting quickly as she swung her leg harder. Couple more tries and I yank this wrist hard as I swing outward. And then maybe if everything falls just right I get a couple of seconds before the slack snaps and I can unravel myself enough to hit the balcony as I fall. Oh please God, don’t let me die like this. Don’t let my father see me die like this. He’ll never forgive himself. Never. If I have to die, let me die. But not here. Not like this….

  “Stop moving. These ropes are about to break.”

  Jessica jerked her head upwards and felt her heart fly into her throat as a man reached down and wrapped his hands around her forearms, reliving the pressure on her wrists so suddenly she gasped. She looked up as he glanced over the edge of the statue, kneeling on the wide flat lip and glanced down at her as she shivered, his eyes so clear and blue they seemed almost colorless in the dark.

  Oh my God, I fainted, she thought, jerking her arms stiffly as she tried to wake herself back up. This is a dream. I’m going to fall…

  “I told you to stop moving. He has you hooked up to something. It looks like it’s a bomb.”

  Jessica blinked wildly, looking towards the ground and then looked back up as the man with the clear eyes glanced at something near the edge of the statue, his chiseled face screwing up with quick, electric focus.

  “Can you…” she said, her voice sounding so weak and far away it terrified her. The man looked back down as she broke off mid-sentence and she saw his face soften with a moment of sympathy, the expression inching his beauty from beautiful to ethereal.

  “No,” he said briskly, glancing behind him. “I can’t disarm it. Maybe if I had more time. I think it’s weighted for you specifically. If I cut you down it’ll explode.”

  Jessica felt her mouth run dry as the man looked around her again and then pulled her close
r to the statue as he held her eyes.

  “Do you think you can hold on? I need at least 60 seconds, but I won’t let go if you can’t.”

  Jessica shivered as another gust of wind blew her long hair around them and turned her head towards the lights as she saw a helicopter glide past the roof.

  “60 seconds?”

  “Count it down if you like.”

  Jessica licked her lips again and then nodded, her heart constricting oddly as he gave her a small smile. He pulled her as close to the balcony as he could and let her clasp her hands together before he nodded.

  “Ready?”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  She felt her entire body drop like dead weight as the man released her and let out a small cry as she felt her hands snap against the balcony arm, her eyes holding on to the man above her as if he would disappear if she blinked. She saw him grab for something behind him and then stepped forward as he coiled what looked like a thick strand of wire around one hand, dropping the slack over the side as he knelt down in front of her.

  Ten, she thought. Eleven, twelve, thirteen….

  When he was through he yanked a knife out of his pocket and sliced through all but the last loop of the rope binding her wrists, snapping though each strand separately as he glanced down at her.

  “Don’t move,” he said. “Not yet.”

  Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one….

  Jessica felt her fingers slip and jerked her head up as the man stepped to the edge of the arm, tucking his knife into his jacket.

  “I’m slipping,” she said, her voice tight and panicked.

  “I see you,” he said, sliding his legs off the side as if he was dangling from the edge of a diving board. “Just a few seconds more. I’ve got you.”

  Jessica watched the man lower his body next to her, holding on to the wire he was strapped to with one hand. He glanced down as her as he wrapped his free hand around her chest and then let go of the line, dragging her towards him as he reached for his knife.

  Forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one…

  Jessica raised her head as the man sliced through the final loop holding her wrists and exhaled quickly as her arms dropped to her sides, her eyes squeezing shut as she felt his blade touch her waist.

  “This is going to happen very quickly,” he said, his voice low and clipped. “But don’t move until I say so. And keep your head down. I can’t stop it from exploding. Understand?”

  Jessica nodded as he slid the blade inside the rope around her waist and sawed through it quickly as he gripped her body tighter. He tucked his knife away as she felt the last threads of her bindings unravel and watched him grab ahold of something next to his head as he brought his face close to her cheek.

  “Now,” he said into her ear.

  Jessica curled her body inward and screamed as she felt her body drop like a stone, the ground rushing up to meet them as she heard something explode above her head.

  Michael felt the wind rush around them as they tumbled into a quick, wild freefall and then arced his right arm into a stiff curve towards the building, holding it as steady as he could until he felt the line straighten out. He culled the trajectory of their fall a little more, blinking rapidly against the hard rush of air pressure encasing them like a bullet and thought for the second time that day that a pair of climbing goggles might not be the worst idea in the world, especially on a night like tonight.

  Good thing I’m not planning on getting into the rescue business, he thought, bowing his head as he tried to track the quick moving path of Juliet balconies they tumbled past. Twice the risk and none of the pay isn’t exactly my idea of a pleasant retirement.

  He looked down at he felt the girl in his arms slide lower and began to apply pressure to the handle he was gripping, the quick squeal of metal on metal making him grit his teeth as he tried to turn his body in the direction of the wall face.

  Not exactly what it was meant for, he thought, as the second story Juliet loomed into view and he realized that they were nearing the end of the feed. But I think it’ll do the trick. At least this once.

  He clenched the handle as tight as he could as they slid towards one of the last balconies above ground level and let out a low grunt as it sparked next to his face, the wire jolting to a jerky stop inches from the small moon-shaped terrace. He heard the girl let out a quiet cry as the sudden lack of momentum nearly jerked her from his arms and tightened his hand around her chest as the wire swung back towards the wall face, his face tight with concentration. He waited until his feet touched the wall, their bodies hanging directly over the balcony and then leaned his head against her neck as she dug her nails into his arm.

  “Let go,” he said, the wind almost stealing the phrase completely as she snapped her head around to look at him, her large, hazel blue eyes so wide he wondered if she had understood him.

  “The balcony’s right below us,” he said, holding onto the wire tightly as he gritted his teeth, the wind trying to drag him away from the wall in a sudden mighty gust. “Just let your body slide down slowly. I’ll do the…”

  Michael bit back a scream as he felt a sudden bite of pain tear into his left shoulder and opened his arm without thinking, the girl tumbling away from him like a ragdoll. He felt his eyes go wide as she tried to hang onto his waist and then closed his fist around her wrist as he felt her drop from his arms, the sudden jolt as his arm snapped tight sending a violent flash of agony right up the base of his spine.

  The girl looked up as he held her, too terrified to scream and he felt himself break into a sweat as he swung her back towards the balcony, dropping her the last four feet in one smooth arc of motion. He let go of the grapple handle as he saw her fall to the floor and smacked the balcony hard with both hands, his face twisting with rage as he looked up at the flash of gunfire above them.

  Michael felt his shoulder with his opposite hand, letting out a low noise of disgust as he realized that they had missed his bulletproof vest by mere millimeters and unhooked himself from the line as he pulled out his knife, walking over to the thick French windows as he glanced inside. He popped out another blade with a slide of his thumb, scoring the window above the lock with a long X and then struck the glass hard with the weighted end of his glove, the window shattering inward with almost no effort at all.

  “Inside,” he said, hooking his fingers through the glass as he unlocked it with a quick turn of his wrist. “We can’t stay out here.”

  He looked over his shoulder as he swung the door open and felt his brow furrow as he saw that the girl had fainted dead away, the awkward angle he had dropped her at leaving her legs twisted towards the balcony. He stepped towards her quickly, kneeling down in front of her as he patted her cheek and then paused as he saw that the left side of her back was burned with the initials HAH, a thin line of blood trailing down the back of one thigh.

  Michael swallowed hard, something violent and unleashed running though his face as he picked her up as gently as he could and then carried her into the freshly painted apartment, the entire thing staged with the kind of high-end furniture realtors loved to drag out in desperate times. He set her down on the sofa, glancing around for something to cover her with and settled on what looked like a cheap, decorative blanket, tucking the stiff fabric up to her shoulders as he let out a low sigh.

  Michael glanced towards the door as the sudden noise of gunfire seemed to grow louder and then looked down as Jessica brushed his legs with her fingertips, her face looking hot and feverish as she shook her head at him.

  “My father,” she said, swallowing hard as she tried to catch his eyes, the movement draining her so much that they fluttered closed almost immediately. “He’s with them.”

  Michael looked down at her as her entire body seemed to sigh into a sudden desperate sleep and sneered slightly as he headed back for the balcony, his clear blue eyes darting around the balcony with quick, electric focus. He
grabbed the steel grapple line as the wind twirled it against the railing and then fastened it to the hook of his harness, rolling his eyes skyward as he jerked the line lightly.

  That’s the problem with playing hero, he thought, swinging his legs up onto the side of the building as he felt the line begin to retract. There’s always someone else to save.

  Michael wrapped his fist around the metal handle as he felt the line begin to gain speed, bracing himself stiffly as it hurled his body skyward.

  Ronan stepped out of the elevator on the top floor and rolled his jaw slightly as he walked down the hallway, the soft echo of his footsteps magnified by the cavern of empty space around him. He passed through the east wing of the hospital, glancing up as the lights to the rec room came on and crossed the pool room with a low, off-handed annoyance, the mosaic of green and blue tiles lending the room a calm, Mediterranean hue. He opened the French doors to the main hall, turning right as he entered what had once served as the hospital’s library and then snapped his eyes towards the large flat screen television in the corner of the room, the low drone of the newscast drawing his attention like a magnet.

  “The officer, Jessica Nolan and her father, former police chief Jack Nolan, were rushed to an area hospital following the strike. So far, three men, belonging to a group calling themselves the Humans Against Humanity, have been confirmed dead on the scene. According to police White himself is still at large and considered extremely dangerous. They are advising people not to attempt to approach him or any of his known associates alone. Anyone with any information about the group is being asked to contact the hotline we provided and to let your local law officials take it from there.

  “The strangest part of tonight’s story, however, is the mystery man who staged a daring one-man rescue of Officer Nolan while she was still suspended in mid-air.”