by Mason Dakota
I pointed to a nearby skyscraper and Thomas followed the direction of my finger. But he stopped when his eyes crossed Alexandra and he suddenly proclaimed, “You want me to defend the mob and shoot at the police?”
Alexandra blew a kiss at Thomas and said, “Make sure you protect my good side, Sweetie.”
Thomas looked at her with disgust and said to me, “I did not sign up to join the mob.”
“There’s always room for more in the family. You might find that you enjoy it. Give us a chance,” cooed Alexandra as she stepped closer to Thomas. She grazed her hand up Thomas’ arm and giggled like a schoolgirl. Thomas yanked his arm away and stepped away from her.
“Alex, that’s enough,” I said. The Lady shot me a hateful glare for the nickname. She dramatically exhaled and leaned up against the brick wall of the alley. I noticed her hand settle on her pistol. She was always ready to draw. Her silent threat was well heard.
“You’re not part of the mob…you’re just helping them…help us…get inside…to save Chicago. If it helps…try not to think of them as the mob,” I said to Thomas.
“Good luck with that,” muttered Michael. Alexandra gave him a raised eyebrow and thumbed the handle of her pistol. Michael choked on his next breath.
I ignored them. I reached into my sports bag and took out a walkie-talkie with a headset attachment and a few sticks of plastic explosive I had been saving for another job. I tossed them to Alexandra and said, “Here, give these to your men. Have some fun with them. Use the walkie-talkie to communicate to us.”
She caught them both, placed the headset piece in her ear, glanced at the few sticks of plastic explosives and asked, “Are we ready to begin or shall we continue to chit-chat like school girls?”
I hate her.
I waved toward the street behind her in reply. She smirked and spun around the corner and disappeared out of sight. I snatched up the sports bag and started walking in the opposite direction. I didn’t want to look at any of their faces anymore. Their stubbornness to work as a team only increased my frustration.
Michael scrambled up behind me. “Will you tell me now how we are going to get in there?”
“We’re going to drop in and say hello to Ziavir.”
Michael said, “Are you being literal or are you just trying to sound clever?”
“When have you ever taken me literally?”
He moaned, “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
I looked at him and said, “Don’t you trust me, Michael?”
Michael sighed and said, “I trust you. I also know you. That is why I am getting a bad feeling here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“You are crazy. You are absolutely crazy! No wait, calling you crazy insults crazy people. You are beyond crazy! And so am I for going along with this,” ranted Michael. He had been at that the whole way up the elevator after I told him my plan. It made me chuckle. Even Thomas laughed at Michael. Oddly, our anxious laughter and Michael’s discomfort eased everyone’s tension. It felt like the calm before I did something stupid.
We stood on a rooftop about two blocks away. From there we could see the battle ground on which Alexandra and her mobsters would fight. They awaited our signal to attack.
Standing up on the ledge, mere inches from a plummeting death, I marveled at how small those below me appeared. They were ants! The sound of rioting roared in the streets. Sirens blared. People screamed. Guns fired in the rumblings of shatters and crashes. Fear had set chaos in motion. Fear was driving my city to madness. Fear had brought me to that point.
I took a deep chilling breath and exhaled. The wind whipped my duster around my ankles and rocked me back and forth. I looked up into the air and sighed peacefully above the chaos. I wanted to sit and let my legs dangle off the side like a child to watch the storm below.
A pretty good place to sit and watch the end of the world.
I heard Michael replace his rant with a chuckle. I turned around and wore a questioning expression. He shook his head and said, “You look ridiculous standing up there.”
“Expecting me to fly away?”
Michael lifted up the parachute in his hands and gave me a wary look. Looking at Thomas who was smart to stand away from the building ledge, I said, “And your opinion? Do I look foolish?”
Thomas, who seemed lost in the same peaceful bliss I experienced, looked me over and asked, “Do I have room to judge?”
I shrugged and said, “Probably not. Can you handle this?”
Thomas gazed back over the city and said, “There are some difficult shots from here. I certainly won’t be able to cover you both entirely once you’re inside. I can cover your approach and your landing but once you’re inside I won’t be much help to you. But I’ll be able to assist the Lady.”
“That’s not what I meant when I asked if you can handle this.”
Thomas ducked his eyes slightly from me. Frozen in place like a gargoyle, he gazed out over the city. “I guess we will find out,” he whispered into the wind.
I dropped down from the ledge and landed next to Thomas. I laid my hand on his shoulder and said, “I appreciate your willingness to do this; I really do.”
He nodded and asked, “Are you sure this is where you want me? You might need another gun in there.”
I chuckled, patted the pistol tucked in my belt loop, and said, “I’ve got enough guns going in with me. I need you here. Besides, I only have the two parachutes and I need Michael’s help to disarm a bomb.” I shrugged, winked and said, “I got lucky on the train. Why gamble on it a second time? You’ll be the most help from up here. Next time I promise I’ll drag you into hell with me and you’ll regret ever offering to join.”
I heard Michael snicker behind me and mutter, “I do not recall ever volunteering to go to hell.”
“Let’s just say you were volun-told.” That got a smirk from Thomas and a grumble from Michael.
“It’s going to be a blood bath down there. The mob won’t hesitate to kill those police officers. The police are just following orders,” said Thomas.
“That’s why I want you to stay most of all. Cover us when you can and put those tranquilizers to good use. Focus your fire on the NPFC. If you can put them to sleep they won’t pose a threat to the mob—and you may save their lives. That will keep Alexandra focused on Ziavir’s men.”
“I guess that’ll work,” he said. He didn’t sound sure.
I patted him on the shoulder, stepped toward Michael and asked, “You ready?”
He groaned. I took one long, last look out over the city—my city—that slowly burned itself to the ground. My heart ached. My stomach plummeted. My soul fractured. A part of me twisted, rotted, drowned…and finally died only to be whisked away like dust in the gale.
“I’m to blame for this.”
“There’s plenty of blame to go around,” whispered Michael.
I turned back toward the ledge and sighed. “All right, let’s put this show on the road then, shall we?” I pressed a finger to my ear piece and said, “Time to let the dogs out to play, my Lady.”
“About time,” came Alexandra’s reply in my headpiece.
“I want to know something first…just in case I don’t get to ask it later. Why do you wear the mask?” asked Thomas.
I looked back at him and said, “If we see each other again…I promise to tell you…someday.”
Then I took off at a dead sprint.
CHAPTER FORTY
Motivating yourself to jump off a rooftop onto a moving train seemed impossible. Motivating yourself to base jump off a skyscraper in Chicago with a parachute you bought online and wasn’t sure would actually open made the train seem easy. It all went by in slow motion, giving me plenty of time to chastise myself for the decision. My mind screamed at my legs to stop but they refused to listen. My stomach rolled and my heart threatened to burst from my chest.
Each conscious plea to stop crumbled beneath one rage-filled thought telling me I had to
do it. I needed to do it. Chicago needed me to do it. Chamberlain and the others needed me to do it. And I needed to do it for myself.
I would never be able to look Chamberlain in the eyes again if I didn’t.
Quite literally in fact.
I get morbid sometimes.
Placing a foot on the ledge, I kicked off and leapt out as high and as far as possible. I soared out with my arms out-stretched like a bird’s wings. One heart beat…and then another…and then one more of pure soaring. I felt the wind beneath me. I held my breath as the moment crystallized in purity in my mind. It felt wonderful…and free…and so good. I forgot everything; I froze in the air as pure and joyous exhilaration swept over me and I knew I flew.
Until gravity crudely took over.
Air painfully sucked into my lungs. I shouted and screamed forcing that same air back out. I thought I would explode. My eyes burned. My limbs waved uselessly through the air. The wind swept around me like a typhoon would an uprooted tree. It roared and reverberated through my ears like pounding bass drums. My coat flew up and slapped at my face to blind me and bind me tight.
I’m so glad I stuffed my hat into my bag!
My former sense of peace vanished and I violently ripped at the blue cord on my parachute strap. Scrzz! Pop! The release of the chute yanked my body backward with the painful equivalent of a kick to the groin. My increasing velocity screeched to a slower speed. Using the control lines of the chute, I maneuvered myself toward my target, fighting my way against Chicago’s famous windy gale. That wicked Chicago wind struck me and threw me around like a rag doll. Each gust of wind threw me dangerously off course and close into crashing into a nearby building. I yanked with every ounce of strength to pull down hard on both control lines hoping a slower speed would give me more control.
The slower speed bought me the chance to gaze below. I saw the blood bath Thomas predicted. Alexandra crashed a rigged SUV through the blockade and detonated it in the courtyard. The fireball of a blast masked the screams of those unfortunate enough not to die right then. It shot hot air straight into my chute and I struggled briefly to control my descent. White smoke spilled out over the area, masking dark shadows fighting within it. From Ziavir’s improvised fortress, mercenaries poured out to keep Alexandra and her mob at bay.
The smoke hid the gory details from me. It didn’t do a thing to stifle sounds that left me numb. Lost in the moment, I slacked off on my control of the chute’s lines. A gust of wind struck me on my left side and I spun with my chute rolling me into a cigarette.
Six hundred feet up in the air and I began to free fall.
I screamed and fought for my life to unroll the chute. It takes eight seconds to fall a thousand feet. I had maybe six seconds until splat!
Six
I reached up behind me and struggled to grab the cords of the parachute. My hands shook and my grip slipped away.
Five
My gloved hands closed around the cords and I frantically pulled to unravel the parachute. Suddenly another gust of ice cold wind struck me from my right side and took my breath with it.
Four
I yanked the cords above my head apart and the unraveling of the parachute made me spin through the air. Everything blurred. I couldn’t see the ground. I felt my sports bag, filled with my gear, break and fly away from me.
So much for keeping my hat.
Three
My parachute popped open like the heavens ripping apart. Another gust of wind swept me forward and back up at a dangerous speed heading straight for the side of a building. I screamed and yanked down on the control lines, hoping to stop myself becoming a bug to a windshield.
Today was a bad day to get out of bed.
I smashed through a large paneled window into some kind of office space. Glass flew through the air. I hit the top of a desk and skidded off. Papers and books joined the cyclone of glass. I bounced, rolled, and smacked hard into a wall. I slid to the ground and stayed there in agonizing pain. Then the parachute extending behind me out the window caught wind and started pulling me back outside.
I flung back against the desk and bounced upward into the ceiling. I smashed back down on the desk and it shattered under my weight. The wind didn’t give up and continued to drag the parachute and me out the window.
I’m a scene in a horror movie!
I yanked out my knife and frantically sawed at the cords. The shattered window drew closer and closer like the teeth of a predator ready to chew me up, swallow me, and spit me into another fireball.
“Can’t I catch a break already?” I screamed just before breaking through the cords. The parachute ripped through the window. I slid across the floor and crashed painfully against the wall.
“The next time disaster strikes, someone will be paying my hospital bill,” I grumbled to myself. I lay there on my back thanking God I was breathing. I didn’t thank Him for how badly it hurt to do so. My gratitude has its limits, even with my Maker.
“Shaman! Shaman, can you hear me! Shaman, please tell me you are alive!” came Michael’s voice through my ear piece.
A great weight lifted from my shoulders when I realized I just cut myself out of a deadly situation.
“Yeah…I’m here, though that remains to be stated where ‘here’ is.”
Am I even in the right building?
“You smashed into the side of the target. You are in the right building…just not where you planned to land.”
Well…aren’t I lucky.
“What do you mean? I intended for all of that to happen,” I said with typical prideful arrogance.
I pressed my face against the floor. Everything hurt. Everything felt broken. Everything felt wrong, and I was sure the only thing that would fix any of that would be lying there on that floor for an eternity.
“Have you jumped yet, Michael?” I asked.
“Um…no,” said Michael.
I groaned and pushed myself up onto my knees and stumbled onto my legs, using the broken desk for support. I looked out through the open window up to the skyscraper where I could see the tiny shape of Michael and Thomas.
“And why not?” I growled.
“Well…I…um…I.”
“Oh, just grow a pair!” snarled Alexandra in the heat of battle.
Michael continued to stammer and I could see him starting to move away from the ledge.
“Thomas,” I said.
Thomas didn’t hesitate. The moment I spoke his name he pushed Michael over the ledge. Michael screamed, so loud and high pitch that I heard it from here. His arms and legs waved wildly. His face was turned downward and he started to dive. I think he pulled the cord sooner than me, and a large blue parachute shot out from his backpack like fired from a cannon. He stopped falling and just momentarily yanked backwards before continuing to fall. A gust of wind hit the chute and he swung outward and to his left, still screaming in a fit. I heard him scream curses to my name. I chuckled as I watched him squirm through the air.
Then someone kicked down the door of the room I was in.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The door flew open and a man charged in with an assault rifle. My hand reached behind me going immediately for my pistol and found…nothing. The pistol flew away when I parachuted in. My shotgun lay across the room.
Oh the irony!
“Freeze!” he shouted. I did as he said.
“Let me see your hands, slowly,” he ordered. I complied and slowly stretched my hands out. A wave of pain struck me and caused me to stumble forward a step. I caught myself on a portion of the broken desk with a leg propped up.
“I said freeze!” he shouted.
I raised my left hand, leaning my bodyweight on my right arm, which rested against the broken leg piece of the table. “Easy, please take it easy. I can barely stand.”
“Shut up! You’re coming with me.”
“Wait! I’m terribly sorry, but there’s something I’ve got to say first.”
He froze and gave me a s
keptical look.
“There’s something on your face.”
“What?” he said just before I snapped off the desk leg and swung it like a club against the side of his skull. He flew sideways against the wall and fell over unconscious.
“It was pain!” I shouted down at him as I dropped the desk leg to replace it with my shotgun. But as I bent down to pick up the shotgun another mercenary entered the room with his own shotgun.
Instead of immediately firing, he took advantage of my position to kick me in the side with his big boot. I crashed and slid across the room away from any weapon. The mercenary raised the shotgun directly at me. There would be no hiding once he pulled the trigger. Those pellets would fly all across the room and shred everything including me.
I saw his finger twitch, putting pressure on the trigger before something flew through the room and struck him in the neck. A green feathered dart stuck out of his neck. The man stumbled as though he were intoxicated. His fingers went to his neck. He cocked his head to the side, let his mouth droop just before the rest of him followed a path straight to the floor.
Wow! Those darts work fast!
I turned my head to look outside, raised a thumb up, and said, “Thank you.”
“You got to get moving, Shaman. You can’t stay there,” came Thomas’ reply.
I stumbled to my feet muttering, “Yeah, yeah I know.”
I snatched up my shotgun and pressed myself against the wall next to the door.
“Where’s Michael?”
“I am…I am on the roof.”
“He had a bit of a rocky landing as well,” said Thomas.
“You will all be hearing from my lawyer for that,” said Michael.
“Stop yapping and get to work!” shouted Alexandra. I cringed.
I hate her, but she’s right.
I peeked out the door to see a long gray-walled corridor with brown wood doors stretching down both sides. The lights flickered on and off. I could go either left or right.