Joe

by H. D. Gordon

I shifted in my seat. It was scary to hear my own thoughts and fears from someone else’s lips. Scary, but also a relief. Even if I did have to face Shadowman tomorrow, at least there was someone who I could talk to about it. The best part was, I didn’t even have to talk.

  Me to…So now what, sir?

  “Now you have to listen to everything I say, and listen carefully. I am an old man, and some of the things I say may sound crazy to you. But if you plan on living as long as I have with that gift of yours, you’ll take these things I’m about to tell you and you make them your gospel. You take the instructions I give you and follow them no matter what. You understand, soldier?”

  I nodded, frightened a little at the way he addressed me. “Soldier” was a name that fit. It made this all seem too real. It made tomorrow too real. I was going into a battle. I took a deep breath. Mr. Landry seemed to have been waiting for me to calm down, even though I was sure I was showing few outward signs of the way I was feeling. I nodded again, more firmly.

  He continued. “All right, pay attention. The first and probably most important thing I’m going to tell you tonight is this: Don’t hesitate. In fact, we’ll call this Rule Number One. This situation you’re going into is a hostile one, no doubt about that. The man you are going to try and take out will be eager to push his coward’s fingers down on the triggers of his guns. You got to be ready to do the same. You get your shot, you take it. Don’t you think twice or totter. You got me? You get it, you take it. That’s an order, Soldier, we clear?”

  I nodded. Yes, sir.

  “Good. What’s Rule Number One?”

  Don’t hesitate. I get the shot, I take it.

  “Good. You need to understand how important Rule Number One is. A moment’s hesitation can be the difference between life and death. You’re stepping into a war zone tomorrow, make no mistake about that. And that means everything that you think you understand, but you don’t—not until you actually go there. It’s gonna be loud. The shots and screams and terror,” Mr. Landry stopped and took a deep breath. “It’s going to be loud. And everywhere around you you’re gonna see people in a terrible state of panic. There’s gonna be things you don’t want to see, people…broken around you, maybe, but your job is to take out the hostile. He is your first priority, soldier. As long as he’s got his hands on those guns, he’s the number one focus. If you can’t take him out, you can’t help nobody. You have to be the one in control. No one else around you will be.”

  My breathing was growing more and more shallow, but I was paying attention. Really, I was hanging on every word.

  “It’s okay to be scared,” Mr. Landry said. “Hell, I’m scared for you, but that’s okay. You need to be scared. Especially now. The more I can scare you now, the more you can prepare yourself to expect it tomorrow, and not let it stop you from carrying out your mission. You can do this, soldier, and do you know why?”

  I shook my head. I had no idea.

  “Because you have an advantage. This asshole you’re facing expects to be up against a herd of sheep tomorrow. He thinks he’ll be the only one armed, the only wolf in the area. But you’ll be armed too, and you have the advantage of knowing all of this. You’ll be waiting for him, watching for him. He won’t be looking for another wolf; he’ll be too busy drooling over the sheep. Get it?”

  I nodded. I hadn’t really thought about any of this, and now it seemed so obvious. It was almost enough to make me think I could actually succeed tomorrow.

  “Okay,” Mr. Landry continued, “Repeat Rule Number One.”

  I did. And we continued on like this for some time, me gobbling up all his wisdom and committing it to memory. By the end of our talk, I felt more confident—if not more terrified—about my “mission” tomorrow. I did have a major advantage over Shadowman, but even Mr. Landry agreed I would need to get as close to the gunman as safely possible if I expected to land the shot. He emphasized the word safely a lot.

  “You ain’t no good to nobody dead,” he told me.

  Before I knew it, the hour had grown late, and dark was setting in behind Mr. Landry’s kitchen window. I felt as though I was as prepared for tomorrow as I would ever be, but I still had so many questions. Mostly about his gift and this so called control he had over it.

  Mr. Landry was growing weary, though, and I knew he probably wanted to get to bed, so I thanked him for everything and stood to leave.

  “I know you got more questions,” he said. “I promise that I’ll answer them best I can when you get home from school tomorrow.” He stopped, and we stared at each other for a moment. We both knew that a huge if belonged somewhere in that statement and it seemed to hang in the air between us.

  “You’re gonna make it through tomorrow, soldier,” he said. “And that’s an order.”

  I nodded, unshed tears stinging my eyes. I didn’t want to cry in front of him. He had surely faced worse things in his day, and to cry would probably seem weak. I thanked him again and turned to go.

  “Joe?” he asked.

  My hand froze over the doorknob, and I turned back to face him.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  I can’t not do this, sir.

  Even in my head the words sounded anguished.

  “I knew you’d say that,” he said, and gave me a crooked smile. “And for whatever it’s worth, you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot of brave men in my day. Half of them wouldn’t have the balls or heart to do what you’re doing. Anyway, you should know that. And if things do go wrong tomorrow, I want you to know I’ll see to it that they bury you with my Purple Heart on your chest.”

  I just nodded and wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape my eyes.

  “But you know what I think?”

  I shook my head.

  “I think you’re going to kick ass and take names tomorrow. You’re a smart girl, and that’s the best weapon anyone can have. I think you were meant for bigger things. I don’t got much belief in God, but if He’s got an army, I’d think that you’re one of His soldiers.”

  “Th-thank you, sir.”

  “You go on now, get your rest. You’ve got an early day tomorrow. And, Joe? Don’t forget Rule Number One.”

  I left then, but I could swear I saw a few tears escape Mr. Landry’s eyes as he sat at his kitchen table and watched me go.

  I did manage to get some sleep, though it was broken and filled with dreams about Shadowman and bodies and blood and bullets and a raven. Surprisingly, it was the raven that bothered me the most.

  And while I slept, the hours on the clock slid onward and into a new day.

  Monday was finally here.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The Decider

  He sat on his balcony and watched the sunrise. It was six-seventeen, Monday morning. The date was April twentieth, 2012. As the young man named Danny watched the sky go from deep blue to baby blue to orange, heard the birds awake from their slumbers to call out their greeting to a new day, he became a new thing, a new person, a new and higher Being. From this day forward he could go by many names, as do most higher forms. There were plenty that fit: Psychopath, Madman, Gunman…Shadowman. But the one he had chosen was The Decider. And so it was.

  In those first glowing hours of the day, as he sat silent and still above the land, it seemed to him his entire existence had been leading up to this point—every breath and heartbeat the countdown to what now waited over the horizon. It was a settling, cozy feeling. It soothed the soul.

  But he was ready. Noontime could not come soon enough. It taunted him much in the way the smells of baked bread taunt a starving belly.

  The time is near.

  The thought settled him. He showered quickly and efficiently and stood in front of the fogged mirror over his sink. He wiped away the condensation with his towel, and stared at his own reflection for ten minutes without moving an inch. Then he moved into his bedroom and removed his chosen outfit from the closet, laying it nea
tly over his bed. It was perfect, and he stared at the clothes for a few minutes as well before slipping them on. Then he set himself to his final preparation tasks, like a drone that has had a switch flipped. Just like that.

  He removed items from his closet one by one, placing them each on the bed in a specific spot. He aligned his ammunition in a row at the top of the bed: four spare magazines for the handguns, each with fifteen cartridges. Beside these were two banana clips for his Big Boy, the one he would bring out at the finale, the AK-47. The two were taped together end to end, so he could simply flip the discharged clip and swap it for the new one attached to its end. If the pigs wanted to show up early, he would have sixty rapid-fire rounds to welcome them to the party.

  Further down the bed lay the weapons themselves. A Sig Sauer 9mm, a .45 Beretta, and the AK. The Decider had a special relationship with the Sig. It was his Go-To Bitch, but the AK had a mouth on her that looked as though it could really spit and spray. It was the only one of the three he had never fired. It wasn’t the type of gun you normally brought to the range.

  At the bottom of the bed lay a pair of black leather gloves, a walkie-talkie, and his empty black backpack. At seven-ten The Decider filled the backpack and grabbed the cardboard box with the name Gail Heart written in black block letters across the top. Checking the contents for the hundredth time, he headed out the door.

  He cruised down Highway 71 toward the University of Midwest Missouri State (UMMS, for short. Stupid fucking acronym) and drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel to the tune of an old Jimmy Buffet song.

  At his first stop he left the cardboard box beside the dumpster—not in plain sight, but where Mr. Janitor was sure to stumble across it later in the day—at the Channel Five News station, and headed to his final destination.

  He arrived at seven-thirty-five a.m.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Joe

  I arose early, showered, dressed, and forced some dry toast down my throat. For several minutes, I thought the toast was going to come right back up. It didn’t. Small wonder. Hopefully, the day would yield more of them.

  I felt numb and robotic as I went through my morning routine, but that was fine. It was better than what I had been feeling all night. It was almost as though someone had thrown a switch in my brain, putting me on auto-pilot. That was okay, too. For now.

  I chose an army-green jacket to go over my gray t-shirt and jeans, even though the forecast said temperatures would reach the lower eighties by noon. The jacket had big, deep pockets, so I would just have to deal with the heat. Removing the gun Mr. Landry had given me from its blue plastic case, I made sure the safety was on the way he had shown me. The old man had emphasized the safety’s importance over and over last night during our strange little talk. He had made me practice without looking at it for nearly thirty minutes, flicking it on and off with my pointer finger, like a drill for a soldier. Its weight was oddly comforting and familiar in my hand this morning. I slipped it into the deep right pocket of my jacket.

  After I explained to him about the feeling I’d surely get when my premonition was actually taking place, about how I would just know when the time had come, Mr. Landry had said, “Then that’s when you turn off that safety. Right then. Don’t even think twice. You get that feeling in your gut, and you take it as an order to turn off that damned safety. We clear, soldier?”

  Yes, sir. Hoo-rah.

  Next, I emptied my backpack of books and left only loose papers and a few pencils inside. I wanted to blend in, so I would wear it on my back all day, but it needed to be as weightless as possible so it wouldn’t slow me down.

  As I stepped out of my apartment building, my backpack slung over one shoulder and my curiously steady hands shoved in the deep pockets of my jacket, I found Mr. Landry waiting for me. I nodded my greeting. There was no need for words. We stared at each other for a small moment that seemed to last ages, and I knew if I didn’t get going soon, I was going to lose my nerve. I didn’t have to be a telepath to read the thoughts behind his glistening gray eyes. It was the same look an army commander gives his men just before he says, “It’s been an honor serving with you.”

  I managed a smile that probably more closely resembled a grimace, and thought, You too, sir. You too.

  In response, the old man placed a rigid hand to his brow and saluted me. I turned away before useless tears decided to prick my eyes. It was time to go.

  Five minutes later I was cruising down Highway 71 toward UMMS, where destiny was waiting for me. Somehow, that was okay, too. Maybe it’s always waiting. For all of us. And as a rule, I don’t—

  (hesitate)

  —make a habit of showing up late. Like a good little soldier, I would show up early. By seven forty-five a.m., I was heading across the Quad at UMMS to sit under the oak tree Michael and I sat under the previous day. There, I waited.

  Hoo-rah.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Mina

  At eight o’ clock, Mina dropped Dominic off at preschool and was heading down Highway 71 with Davis toward UMMS. She had a nine o’ clock class, and she liked to get to school a little bit early. She had kissed Dominic goodbye and told him she would be there to pick him up after school, as she did every school morning.

  Her thoughts were good ones. She couldn’t keep her mind off Russell. Last night had been amazing, and she thought if she could hold on to this man, everything would all right. All of a sudden, in the space of one perfect Sunday, everything in her world had been all right.

  Through her windshield, the sun was shining as sweetly as it had been yesterday, and even Davis seemed to be in a good mood.

  Mina had snuck Russell out this morning before the boys had gotten up, and he had kissed her long and hard, promising to meet her at the Quad for lunch. That’s what was on her mind as she unknowingly drove toward her destiny, with her son sitting shotgun.

  Along with fifteen thousand other UMMS attendees.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  John

  At nine o’ clock a.m., John was just walking into his Biology class, and practically floating on air. All that stood between him and his Jodie was a couple classes and a handful of hours. He had pulled his long hair back into a ponytail and ironed his chosen outfit carefully this morning. He had been unable to sleep, and he wished he could just fast-forward the time until tonight.

  But the day was going to move at its own pace. Time would walk on at its leisure no matter how many wishes John made.

  His lab partner—a pretty girl named Claire that John secretly had a crush on since they had met at the beginning of the semester—sat across from him. She offered him a small smile in greeting. He returned it with a large grin. John noticed that Claire looked different today somehow, and though this girl paled in comparison to his Jodie, that didn’t stop him from spending half of the class period trying to put a finger on the subtle difference in his lab partner. Her hair was the same. Her posture was the same attentive, stiff-backed one she always wore. Her makeup was applied as always. Still…

  After a while, he gave up, and turned his thoughts back to Jodie. There was no way he could have known the difference about Claire on this particular Monday morning was that she was carrying a bottle full of pills in her backpack she planned to take after school today.

  Really, none of them could have known anything that was about to happen today. Which was good. Better to think about things like Jodie.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Eric

  At nine fifteen a.m., Eric was placing the wrapped present he had gotten for his daughter in the back seat of his car. He was still nervous about this afternoon, and the nerves had made paranoid thoughts race through his head all morning.

  His daughter was not going to recognize him, or even know who he was. Hell, she wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup, which was sort of sardonic when he thought about it. He wondered about what Jenny had told his little girl. He worried that Jenny may have made his daughter beli
eve that this new man Jenny had married was her real father. He worried his daughter wouldn’t want to talk to him. He worried that she would not accept the gift he had gotten her.

  He worried about all the wrong things.

  As he sat down in his first class at nine-forty a.m., still five minutes before the class was to begin, Eric continued on worrying about all the wrong things.

  Chapter Fifty

  Merion

  At nine-forty-five a.m., Merion was walking into her first class of the day. She smiled and greeted her students, putting on her Professor-face, hoping that today would go by quickly. Monday was her least favorite day of the week.

  As she went through the motions of her lesson, she thought to herself that at some point she had become a really good teacher, and at some point later, she had lost her way. Merion no longer enjoyed seeing understanding light up the faces of her students. She no longer enjoyed imparting her wisdom to the younger generation. Come to think of it, she no longer enjoyed most of things her life had to offer.

  Well, she thought, it’s almost over. I’m almost free.

  She had no idea just how right she was.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Michael

  While Merion was wallowing through her nine forty-five class, and while the raven-haired girl was waiting so patiently under the same tree which the two of them had shared just the previous day, Michael was just crawling out of bed.

  It was nice to sleep in on a Monday, and since he had promised Joe he would skip his classes today, he did just that. Honestly though, his sleep had been fitful. He’d had a dream last night that seemed to keep recurring despite the fact that he had woken from it several times gasping and covered in sweat. Michael had never had the same dream five times in one night. He had finally gotten some decent sleep after the fifth time he had awaken, around six in the morning, and part of him just wanted to lay in bed for the rest of the day. By ten o’ clock, however, he pulled himself out of bed and hopped in the shower.