Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 01 - Flapjack

by Daniel Ganninger

  I planned to see Jane before I went home. I had missed her smiling face and was eager to talk to her. Galveston wasn’t going home either and made a side trip to see Elizabeth at her hotel. Galveston had offered for her to stay with him, but she had declined, saying she would never get any work done. In his mind that was an excellent sign. Right now we could relax, but tomorrow things would become serious, quickly.

  The next morning arrived abruptly. I was awakened by a ringing phone. I ignored the first ring and turned over, placing my pillow over my head to muffle the noise. The phone stopped and almost immediately began ringing again. I threw my pillow off my head and peered at my clock, 7:40 A.M. I grunted in frustration and reached over for the phone.

  “Hello,” I answered groggily.

  “Roger?” It was Galveston and he yelled my name in the phone as his voice crackled with static. “Roger!” He yelled again.

  “What!” I yelled back.

  “You need to get out of your house Roger. Now,” Galveston said excitedly.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Just listen to me. They found us Roger, get out of your house now.”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Get out of your house,” he yelled again, but more slowly. “Meet me at the corner of Cedar and Columbia near the airport. Get your bag together. You have five minutes. You’re in danger. They’ve broken into the office and they know where we live.” At these last words I sat bolt upright. The seriousness in his voice enticed me to act quickly.

  “I’m on my way now.” I told him.

  I hung up the phone and jumped from bed, threw on a pair of shorts, and reached for my bag from Mexico, which fortunately was still packed and ready to go. I tore out my door, barely keeping my feet underneath me and almost did a face plant on the sidewalk. I calmed myself and remembered what Galveston had taught me. I began to scan the area while I walked, looking for anything suspicious and quick-stepped my way to the driver’s side door of my car. I fumbled for my keys nervously and opened the door, jumped inside, and started the engine. As it roared to life I noticed the gas gauge just a hint above the empty mark. In all my excitement the last few days, I had neglected one of the basic human needs, gas. I screeched out of my parking spot and plotted the way in my head on how to get to Galveston. How did they found us so quickly and did Galveston warn everyone? “Oh my God’, I thought, “what about Jane?”

  -Chapter 46-

  I ripped my cell phone out from my pocket and called Galveston, who answered quickly.

  “Dan,” I said excitedly. “Jane? Did you get a hold of Jane?”

  “I couldn’t get her on the phone. I’ll keep trying.”

  “I’m going over there,” I said hurriedly.

  “No, get here first. Then we’ll go together. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’ve got to go now, I can’t wait.” Before Galveston could talk me out of it I hung up and swung the car around in the middle of the road, heading directly to Jane’s house.

  I raced through the streets beating the red lights and rolling through stop signs. The needle on the gas gauge crept slowly toward the empty mark, and suddenly the low fuel light popped on. I wished I would have read my car manual at some point to know how much fuel I had left, but it was too late for that. I managed to limp my way to Jane’s house and parked down the street, out of sight of her front door.

  I got out and slinked my way to the side of her condo building and peered around the corner. There were cars parked along the street and I moved from the corner of the building along the edges of the cars, hiding behind each of them. As I reached the last car, I peered ahead for any signs of life, and anyone bad lying in wait. Not finding anyone or anything suspicious, other than myself, I ran up to Jane’s front door, knocked hard, and then rang the bell. I peered inside the door window and saw no movement. I tried the door and it opened as I rotated the knob. I pushed slowly on the door, cracked it open, and walked inside, checking my back for any unwanted guests. My heart rate quickened and I began to breathe heavily as sweat began to develop on my face.

  The apartment was intact and undisturbed. I prayed that no one had made it here before me. I began to give a yell to Jane, but thought better of it. Instead I crept through the living room. It was a large condo with two floors and right now it was quiet. I walked into the kitchen and found nothing. I walked back to the stairs near the front door and started up slowly. With every step a loud squeak reverberated throughout the condo, like I was compressing an enraged mouse as my weight went into each rung. I had nothing to defend myself expect fists, and I clenched them tight until my knuckles went white. I got to the top of the stairs, knelt down, and craned my head around the corner, level with the floor, checking for feet in the hall that lead to Jane’s bedroom. I heard rustling from the bedroom and water running. I got up off the steps and slowly walked to the bedroom door, which was open, and peered inside. The bed was unmade, and clothes were sitting on top. I walked into the bedroom and to the bathroom door. It was slightly ajar.

  “Jane?” I whispered softly. No response. My heart quickened further. I didn’t want to look behind that door, but I gathered the courage and moved close to it. I carefully pushed it with my foot until it swung open.

  “Ahhhhh!” A scream echoed from the bathroom, and the door swung violently toward me, smacking me in the face, and sending me reeling back on my butt. I grabbed my face from the sting of pain. I peered through my watering eyes and saw a blurry Jane standing over me holding a hair dryer above her head while she was covered by nothing but a towel.

  “Roger?” She said breathlessly. “What are you doing? You scared me to death.” I was only able to grunt until I began to get my faculties back

  “I’m just making sure you’re alright,” I gasped.

  “I saw your body in the door crack. I didn’t know it was you,” she said, exasperated.

  “I’m sorry. I just had to make sure you’re okay. That door didn’t taste too good though,” I said, continuing to hold my face. She knelt down and grabbed my arm. “Here, let me help you up.” She pulled me up to a standing position, and I saw that her hair was wet after finishing a shower. One leg was still covered with shaving cream.

  “I wish I had been a few minutes earlier,” I managed to joke.

  “I bet,” she said, “you would have had quite a surprise. Now, why are you here?” I remembered my primary purpose on coming over and managed to steer my brain in the right direction.

  “I need to get you out of here, and now.” I reached for her clothes on the bed and handed them to her. She threw the hair dryer on the bed and reluctantly took the clothes from me.

  “I don’t understand,” she asked with a look of surprise.

  “I’ll explain it all in the car, but for now just get dressed. We don’t have time. We have to get out of here.” She noticed the angst in my voice and began to move more quickly. “I’ll be right back,” I said motioning for her to go even quicker, “and grab whatever else you need. I don’t know when you’ll be able to come back. Oh, and grab your passport.” Jane shot me a confused look.

  I left the room and began back down the stairs as Jane’s voice trailed off in the distance.

  “Where are you going?” She asked.

  “Hurry,” I managed to yell back to her as I raced down the stairs to the front door. I peered out the front window of the door, and luckily nothing suspicious was going on outside. I locked the deadbolt and slid the door chain on, and then went to the kitchen. I grabbed a wooden chair, returned to the front door, and crammed the back of the chair under the door knob, making sure it was good and tight. We wouldn’t be going out that way. I then scurried back up the stairs.

  Jane had managed to get her one unshaven leg toweled off and was mostly dressed. She threw some clothes in a bag and put some bathroom items on top. As she exited the bathroom, I entered it and searched around. I frantically looked for anything we could use as a weapon, in case
we needed it. All I found was a can of hairspray and a nail file. I didn’t know what I would do with them, but at least it was something.

  “You having a bad hair day?” Jane said pointing at the hair spray.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, “I didn’t get to do my regular primping this morning. You ready?”

  “I guess. I don’t know what for, though.”

  “C’mon,” I gently grabbed her arm and lead her out of the room like a puppy on a leash, not letting her grab any more items. We rambled down the stairs and her eyes grew large as she saw the front door and the makeshift security system I had put in place.

  “Who are you expecting?” She asked excitedly.

  “You do ask a lot of questions. I’ll tell you in the car,” I said, now dragging her quickly by the arm. We walked to the kitchen and reached the back patio door from the kitchen, slid open the door, and walked outside to a small enclosure bordered by a small wooden fence outside. I callously turned over a potted plant, dumping the contents on the ground, and used the pot as a step stool. Jane watched, shocked, from the door to the patio.

  “I just planted that,” she said.

  It was then that my blood turned cold. I heard rustling outside the front door. Jane wheeled around looking toward the front door. Before she could say a word, I reached for her and pulled her out of the kitchen onto the patio, grabbed her bag, and threw it over the fence. It landed with a thud on the other side. I noticed a dark outline of a man through the window next to the front door. “Shit”, I thought, “they found her”. I quickly motioned for Jane to go over the fence and whispered the command to her. She stepped on the pot and managed to pull herself over and dropped to the other side. I pulled off the top of the hairspray and threw the cap on the ground. I tossed the can over the fence, put the file in my pocket, and followed Jane’s steps on the pot. Clumsily, I pulled myself up and over the fence. “I’m getting tired of fences”, I thought as I dropped to the other side next to Jane, who attempted to slow my descent. I picked up the hairspray and grabbed Jane’s arm again. We raced across the open courtyard between the buildings as I pushed Jane in front of me, her bag flopping off her shoulder as she ran.

  “Get to that corner building. My car is just up the street,” I told her from behind. She was scared and was only able to muster an “Uh, huh.”

  We needed to make it to that building and out of sight. I heard a loud crashing sound from way behind me. They had just broken into her front door. Jane was now a good four steps in front of me, and neither of us looked back. We stayed focused on the corner of the building. Jane made it around the corner and disappeared as I followed. Just as I was about to round the corner and out of sight, I felt a massive tug at the back of my shirt which choked my throat, and sent me reeling backward until I fell on my back. I grunted as I skidded on the grass, and looked up to see a large man standing over me, his eyes big and angry, with his teeth clenched.

  “Where do you think you’re going pal?” he said angrily.

  He began to reach down to pull me up by my shirt when I realized what I had in my right hand. As he leaned in closer I clenched my body and drew up my right hand towards his face and pushed the button on the can I was holding, sending a stream of hairspray directly into the eyes of the marauder. I held the button steady, showering his face with the spray, causing his eyes and face to immediately sting and burn from the chemicals. He gave out a loud yell and let go of my shirt, instinctively covering his eyes with both hands, trying to rub out the burn which only made things worse for him. He stumbled backward, continuing to grunt and yell. I pulled myself up off the ground and stood even with the brute who continued to be unable to see. Without thinking, and with adrenaline pumping through my body in its fight or flight status, I picked up my foot and kicked at the lateral portion of the intruder’s left knee, contacting it with the full sole of my shoe. I sent him crumpling to the ground in agonizing pain, now with one hand on his eyes and the other on his knee. He lay contorting in pain in the fetal position.

  I didn’t wait around to examine the extent of my Chuck Norris like strike, and instead raced around the buildings edge, out of sight. Jane was waiting near the street, and was relieved when she saw me.

  “I heard yelling,” she said breathless.

  “I just had to kick some guy’s ass,” I said in my most macho of voices, clearly scared out of my wits.

  I again grabbed Jane’s arm. We were close now and I could see my car in the distance. We knelt down and crab walked quickly ahead, hiding ourselves from view between the adjacent cars lining the street. Jane moved to the passenger door and got in, slumping down, out of sight. I got in the driver’s side and noticed the car the men must have arrived in was double parked in front of Jane’s condo, and empty. I didn’t know how many of them there were, but we had to drive past them, there was no other way out. An idea flashed in my head as I started up the car, careful to keep my head low. I gunned the engine. I got closer to the car and still no sign of anyone. Hopefully my weak karate skills had slowed down at least one of the men. As I got parallel to the intruder’s car I decided to implement my idea. I brought the car to a screeching halt and jumped out the door, not noticing the horror on Jane’s face at my actions. I reached for the nail file in my pocket and using my shirt as a grip, jammed the file into the front tire of the vehicle as hard as I could. I plunged the file again and again, putting my weight behind it, until a small stream of air plunged out the sidewall of the tire, prematurely deflating it. I pulled out the file and jumped back in the car, punched it into drive, and jammed the gas pedal, sending us screaming down the street.

  “Just a little insurance,” I told Jane as I heaved for air. Jane just looked at me dumbstruck as she continued to crouch low in her seat.

  I looked in my rearview mirror and saw two men moving toward the car, one moving fluidly, the other moving with a noticeable limp. The car began toward us, but then stopped, and began to fade, then disappeared in the rearview mirror as I made our first turn.

  “Ha!” I yelled, slapping the steering wheel. Jane continued to stay crouched.

  “Roger, what the hell is going on?” I made another turn and increased my speed.

  “Well Jane, it seems we’ve run into a little problem.”

  -Chapter 47-

  We continued to race through the streets and I slowed slightly when I felt we had distanced ourselves from the intruders. I filled Jane in on our problem, and how she was involved, not by choice. She was not amused and fought the urge to break down in tears in front of me. I grabbed her hand in mine.

  “I promise,” I started, “everything will be okay.”

  She relaxed slightly, but I could tell she was shaken, rightfully so, as I would be when the adrenaline rush wore off. In all the excitement, however, I had forgotten about that pesky low fuel light. I wished I could have done the Flintstone’s trick and stick my feet out the bottom of the car to keep it propelling forward, but no such luck, my ankles weren’t big enough. The engine sputtered, and we came to a rolling stop, three blocks away from where we were to meet Galveston. We were out of gas. Not a good thing to happen when there were slimeballs after you. We would make the rest of the distance on foot.

  “Out of gas, aren’t we?” Jane asked dryly. I looked at her meekly.

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “You were only looking at the gas gauge every ten seconds.”

  “I was hoping I could will it into rising. I guess my telepathic powers aren’t what I thought they were.” She was not amused by my joke, and for good reason. I dragged her from her home, wet and cold, her front door was now ruined, I destroyed her nail file, used up her hairspray, and more importantly, put her life in danger. Now I was making this poor woman schlep down the city streets because I forgot to gas the car, while her home now stood wide open and exposed. “Let me take your bag. Galveston should be waiting for us up the way,” I offered. She looked at me with a look only a woman scorned could produce.
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br />   “I can carry my own bag, thank you very much,” she said smartly. She was sticking it to me in only the way a woman can, making me feel like a scolded child, small and guilty.

  I grabbed my own bag, sighed, and followed behind her silently, waiting for her to reel around and let me have it. She was a few steps ahead and going in the wrong direction.

  “Uh, Jane,” I said softly. “This way,” and I pointed in the opposite direction.

  She muttered and shook the hair from her face. She again quickly moved in front of me, but not before shooting me a piercing look of disdain. I lowered my head and followed like a frightened puppy.

  The sun had popped out from the overcast sky as we lumbered toward the meeting place with our bags slung over our shoulders. We walked for half an hour, having been further away than I had thought. This didn’t help my position with Jane. She would get over it in due time, I reasoned, especially when she understood the scope of what we were involved in. I was surprised at how bad I felt for getting her involved in this mess. I cared more for her than I had ever thought, and the guilt I felt proved it.

  My cell phone gave a ring, and it was Galveston, obviously wondering where we were. I didn’t have the energy to tell him what had happened. We would have enough time for that later. We walked through the last intersection when I caught a glimpse of Galveston, waiting impatiently next to his car. He ran toward us when he caught sight of us laboring with our bags.

  “Finally,” he exclaimed sensitively, grabbing Jane’s bag from her. “I’m glad you’re okay Jane. What happened?” He asked.

  “Please, don’t ask,” I implored. Jane didn’t speak. She was still quite upset, and pushed past Galveston, continuing to walk toward his car. Galveston stopped and looked at me.

  “Who pissed in her Wheaties?” He asked smiling and pointing at Jane.