by mike Evans
Jack was already pacing, running over his rig and sliding on his FBI jacket. “It won't take me that long to get there, I guarantee you. I’ll report back as soon as I can.”
Rod finished taxiing the plane and ran out hitting the door to lower the steps. “Good luck, Agent Gray. We’ll be back when we get a call for you.”
Gray sprinted down the steps. “The only reason that I’m getting a ride now is because they need me. When this guy is in jail or dead I’ll be flying back coach.”
Rod shrugged, “Well, I didn’t want to be the one to break the bad news to you. You don’t look like you got this job yesterday. What’d you do to get this shit detail?”
Jack rushed to the car and looked back, “I said yes.” He saw that the airport wasn’t too busy yet. The keys were in the car as he’d hoped and when he turned it over the computers came on asking him to enter a code. He punched in the numbers he’d been given and a simple map came up, and police scanners for locals poured over the radio.
Jack put the car into gear wasting no time and left smoke on the smooth airplane hangar’s floor. When the tires finally stuck and quit spinning, he launched forward the back tires still spinning. Jack raced towards the exit of the private airport. He hit his lights driving like a mad man and honking his horn until the security guard on duty realized that the psychotic looking man behind the wheel had absolutely no intentions of slowing down if it was not necessary.
He turned out on to Fleur Drive cutting off traffic coming in two different directions and flying across into rush hour. Horns honked, fingers waved, and precious Facebook updates had to be placed on hold.
Jack saw that he had a straight shot for the hospital and didn’t think he could push the car any harder until the words that made anyone with any type of a shield speed up, “Shots fired, shots fired, four shots fired, he’s going back into the building. I repeat he’s going back into the building. He has no hostages. Send everyone we have, immediately!”
Jack stepped on the gas until he was unsure if he might put it through the floor of the car. The engine was screaming at him and was giving him all the power he needed and then some. He pulled out one pistol resting it on the seat next to him and didn’t slow down until he had cut the ten minutes time from his drive.
When he got to the hospital, he looked around and saw it was sitting on acres of land and that the killer could literally have been anywhere. Parked cars stretched for as far as the eye could see. He thought that if the bottom was surrounded by reinforcements that he would do the only logical thing that he could…go out the front door especially in the mix of crazy. Jack could see the craziness was multiplying the longer sirens went off. People were running from the lobby into the parking lot.
Jack was cursing trying to find the entrance to the hospital and he finally decided that he didn’t care if he was entering a one-way road. “I’ve never seen such an ass backwards parking lot in my entire life. What fucking moron designed this damn thing?”
He sped towards the entrance, skidding to a stop adding to the chaos going on around him. He grabbed his gun, practically exploding out of the car. He sprinted into the building to stop a nurse first and hold up a picture from the file of Hardin. “Nurse, ma’am, what is happening in here? Have you seen this man?”
She shook her head no confidently, looking around and said, “There’s a fire or something going on in the lower level. I don’t know what is going on but everything couldn’t be crazier.”
Jack nodded held the picture out in front of him and he ran through the main hallway showing people the picture of the man. He had his radio in one ear and the insanity of the emergency sirens and patients all fighting to get outside in the other. Men and women looked at him like he was insane, shaking their head no as he screamed if anyone had seen Hardin.
He saw one man towering above the rest as he exited the doors to the lobby. He looked at his picture one more time making sure that it was him and turned around realizing Hardin had just passed him in a wheelchair, “Fuck me, that is him. Where the hell is he going?”
Jack sprinted out of the doors knocking anyone in his way to the side as he barreled past. “Get the fuck out of my way…there’s an emergency!”
An old man who looked like he was having serious issues yelled, “Yeah dickhead, of course there’s a fucking emergency…there’s a fire. Some son of a bitch started a fire in the hospital. What kind of a bastard does that inside of a hospital?”
Jack thought to himself that only a smart or desperate one did. It was exactly what he would have done to if it meant that he could escape from a guaranteed sentencing of life in prison or death.
Jack actually thought of Lund for the shortest of moments and that he would love to stick this sick fuck in the same cell with him for a few days and see what was left when The Stranger was done. Let the guy be a cleaner of scum in exchange for a reign of death through the prison.
Gray did his best as he made his way down the steps. He yelled into his radio over the security channel he’d been given in his notes for the hospital. “This is Agent Jack Gray. I am in pursuit of one Matt Hardin. I believe he is headed to the west exit and should be considered armed and dangerous. Please approach with extreme caution and keep your distance. I repeat…please approach with caution. He is going towards the main west exit now. I’m pursuing on foot. Last seen he was in a wheelchair. I repeat he was in a wheelchair and in the north bank of elevators. The suspect is three hundred pounds, white male, short hair, and over six foot six inches tall. Suspect is dressed in a blue set of overalls.”
**
Matt came out of the bathroom stall tossing his overalls, now covered in blood, into the garbage can. He slid his mask beneath his shirt keeping it handy like a comforting friend. Matt wiped the blood from his face making sure it was clean, and with the exception of some bruises which looked like he might have been in a fight recently, he looked as normal as a guy could.
Matt made his way down the hall carrying a cane he’d found abandoned in the hall. He made his way to the doors where a man stood with a brand new jacket on with the words Chevy and Impala proudly embroidered on the back of the coat.
Matt walked up trying to get his adrenaline from the kills under control. “Hey, sir, are you heading out to the parking lot by chance?”
“Yeah, looks like I don’t have a choice. You look like if a wind hit you that you’d roll over on your ass.” He looked up and then down at how big Matt was and said, “Well, it’d have to be a big ass wind.”
“I sure as hell feel like it, sir. You think that you might be able to help me out to my car? I promise I won’t squish you. I think I’m parked next to a brand new Impala.”
The man looked at Matt thinking he very well could squish him but the bible said do unto others and he figured that went for good deeds too. “Yeah, I can help you. There’s nothing better than paying it forward, right?”
Matt stared at the man losing his train of thought as he visualized smashing the man’s face until there were no bones left to break and nodded slowly. The two made it out towards the parking lot. He pointed to a white impala saying, “That is me over there with the red Impala.”
Matt saw a Chevy Truck sitting next to it. “Yeah, that is me right next to you in the red truck.”
“Well that doesn’t surprise me. Big sonofabitch like you, you’d have to be driving something like that, wouldn’t you? Is there anything else I can do for you, son, before I head on out? There’s some serious shit going on up there. I’m supposed to have a diabetes appointment but I can come back this afternoon for it.”
“There’s a killer on the loose.”
“Nah, I was on the floor below and I think I smelled the smoke.”
Matt waited until the man opened the door to his Impala. “Does this have the V8 in it?”
“Sure does, I spent extra to get that.”
“Good, I’m going to need it.”
When the man turned around to ask what the he
ll he was talking about Matt seized him by the neck and stepped on his cane splintering it down the middle. The man struggled to get free from Matt but he held him still and flipped the cane, bringing the splintered end up into the man’s jugular. The man did everything he could to break free but Matt did not stop stabbing him with the cane until the end of it came out of his eye socket. Matt drew a smiley on his cheek and tossed him onto the sidewalk. He took the man’s wallet figuring all the cash he could have handy was not going to be a nuisance going forward. He pried the keys from his hand and practically fell into the car. He turned it over revving the engine and thankful that he had a full tank of gas that would get him hours away and somewhere he could hide.
**
Jack made his way outside through the panicking mob and looked around. He sprinted through the parking lot not sure what he was looking for. When he saw the man dead on the ground, and the Impala jacket, he checked for the man’s identification but couldn’t find the wallet. Jack ran for his car, and hit the radio. “The suspect might be in an Impala, year and color unknown. Direction un-”
Jack saw the car with the man that he’d seen earlier in it and stopped talking. He shot through the parking lot doing his best to catch up. The Stranger was driving with no regards for human life. The light went red and a crowd of people walking began to cross. He never slowed in his pursuit as he approached.
There were cars blocking his way in traffic and Matt pulled out his mask slid it on and swerved the Impala into the opposite direction making traffic swerve out of his way as he jumped the median. He pushed the car to its limits and it screamed under the strain.
The tires barked under the stress shifting gears twice more. The crowd saw the car and they tried to run but there was no time. The Stranger smiled as he increased the speed. There were two choices, go to jail or get away. The words of his father rang through his head, Do not ever get caught. They do not understand and they never will. They will give you drugs, therapy, and in the end will leave you in a padded room until your dying days just like a caged animal.
The car struck the pedestrian's trying to walk across the path on a sunny morning. Their lives were turned upside down, as the car ran into ten people just trying to make it to work on a Monday. The Impala struck at knees, hips, and waists. The short slid under the car, the screaming car was louder than the victims cries of pain from those being torn apart by the car. The taller flipped up onto the hood crashing into the windshield cracking the glass. The Stranger never slowed down. The tires fought to keep traction as they were going across the shorter pedestrians. He felt it begin to get stuck and he turned the wheel, the smell of burnt flesh began to infuse with the exhaust and the smell was a rancid one.
Jack watched in horror seeing the car tearing the people to pieces, spitting flesh in every direction. He slammed his car into gear flying across the hospital’s parking lot looking more like The Stranger driving than a FBI agent. The Stranger finally freed himself from the bodies. He could hear a car racing towards him. He did not expect to see an undercover cop car. When he looked, he saw a four-door Crown Victoria sliding out of the parking lot. He saw the driver turning the steering wheel expertly, working with the slide and then getting it back so that he could drive normally. Jack could see the man had his mask on and was growing irritated at being stuck.
The Stranger looked in the rearview mirror and took a calming breath. When he saw the Crown Victoria not wavering in its path he realized that he might have a legit chase on his hands. He freed himself from the final victim and slid the car around a corner flying down the first backstreet he could find.
The Stranger had to lose this man before he tried to leave town. He could see the determination that the driver carried in his eyes and he did not want to deal with him, especially on a day where he was this weak. He wanted to be one hundred percent before another meeting between the two of them.
The Stranger went down the narrow street not stopping for anyone or anything. He knew the town well enough to stay in alleys for a while. When he saw the man coming down the street behind him he quickly pulled in to a residential carport. He brought his hand up from his side and saw the work that the doctor had done was beginning to come loose. He could hear his pursuer’s car screaming as it made its way down the alleyway. When he saw the front of the car Matt let off the pedal and rocketed backwards into Jack’s rear tire.
He caught the agent off guard sending him into the wall. Sparks began to fly off the old brick wall and the ass of the car bounced back and forth with Jack doing his best to stop while getting control of the car. Jack was so focused on the killer behind him that by the time he looked back to the front of the car Jack had to slam on the brakes.
Jack saw the heavy traffic and the Monday morning pedestrians walking through the downtown streets. He tried his best to make his decision a good one and did not like any of the plans he was coming up with. The suspect was getting further and further away by the second. His car, on his first day back, was going to murder people in droves if he did not stop.
Jack did the sign of the cross on his body just before the exit to the alley and swerved the car into the wall, his airbag deployed for a moment knocking the wind out of him. The crowd stopped to stare and a second later, he looked up as the airbag was deflating and the car crashed into him. The Stranger walking slowly towards him carrying a piece of two by four.
Jack pulled his pistol, fumbling with it; the spins from the double impact of crashes within a few seconds of each other had left him dizzy. Jack pulled back the hammer, not worrying about aiming, and worked through a magazine. Matt stopped walking forward, he knew that he wasn’t invincible and in his current state would be smart to leave and heal elsewhere.
Jack pushed the door open and crawled out of the car and fell to the ground. He kept the gun up and it shook in his hand as blood poured down his face. Jack screamed, “You might get away today, you twisted fuck, but I’m going to find you!”
The Stranger turned around and walked away. He said, “You might not have to, Detective.”
“I'm FBI, the next time that you fuck up I’m going to be there, and I won’t be in the same position.”
“The next time, I won’t be wounded.”
The lights dimmed as he watched The Stranger disappear around the corner and climb back into his stolen car, melting into the traffic of rush hour. Jack pulled his radio to but saw that it had been broken in the crash and no power was making its way through it. He could feel a rage that he thought was only meant for one man growing in his gut and burning.
Chapter 9
Matt drove through town, taking his time, using each and every backroad that he could take through the small Iowa towns. He waited until he found a gas station in the kind of small town where the closest thing they have to a cop is a county sheriff and the stop signs are replaced with yield because there’s nowhere in the city where you can drive over twenty five miles per hour. He waited until he saw an elderly man pull up in a mid-sized pickup truck who looked like he was on his way to a bathroom and had intentions of doing damage once he got there. He waved a newspaper to the woman at the counter and Matt could see the look of disgust on her face knowing the mess that she was going to be stuck with.
He pulled the farmer’s Impala around to the side grabbing his bag full of kill toys and cash. He rubbed his crusted in blood thumb down the cross on the mask before pulling a shirt on over it. He thought about the fun that he could have torturing the man but knew he’d taken so many chances in the last two days that the devil surely was his biggest fan. He knew for sure that God was surely not in his corner, nor would he ever be.
Matt slid into the truck staying low and when the woman wasn’t paying attention to anyone outside he slid it into reverse and backed up out of her line of sight. When he accelerated to pull out of the parking lot to leave a man was staring at him next to the building, drawing on a smoke. Matt motioned for him to come over and the man shook his head. Matt yelled, �
��You friends with the owner of this truck?”
The man shrugged not looking quite so committed to anything. Matt got out of the truck and walked up to the man, “You know, you’re a little special.”
The man held up his hands. “Whoa, partner. I ain’t like that, you do whatcha want, but it ain’t my type of thing now, or ever. You move on now, you hear me?”
Matt smiled, “Have you been watching the news lately?”
“Not much going on, son.”
Matt leaned in close and the man barely had time to actually feel the strike. Matt whispered, “There’s a murderer on the loose. You just ruined my getaway. I thought that I was going to have to wait a very long time to get to kill again, but look at what you’ve done for me.”
The man looked down at his stomach saw Matt’s hand around a knife buried almost up to the wrist. He’d followed the blade in, twisting and expanding the hole in his gut as he did so. The man opened his mouth tasting metal which was the only thing he could relate it to. “Why?”
“There is no answer. It is only because you were there and I had the urge. If you could have kept your mouth shut until I was out of view you would have been able to continue your pointless empty existence, but that wasn’t even something you were able to do, now was it?”
The man started to say something but Matt ripped his hand out of his stomach pulling intestines with it. He took a handful of them with him rubbing them on the wall and drawing the face he was known so well for. Matt dragged the man behind the building, checking before coming back out with his hands covered in blood. He wiped them the best that he could on a few work shirts the older man had in his truck and drove west for safer lands.