7PM - Jack (A 5PM Short Story)

by Chris Heinicke

  “What are you doing up here?” a female voice asked from behind, almost scaring me enough to jump from my chair and over the edge of the building.

  “I’m looking for someone.”

  “There are eight million people. Do you think you’ll find them here?”

  “Listen…” I didn’t actually know her name.

  “Kathy. Look, I think I know what you’re doing and I don’t blame you. That’s why I brought you one of these.” She handed over a mug of steaming coffee. Black, just the way I love it.

  “Thanks.” I accepted the drink and brought it to my lips, a much better-tasting fluid than the sugar filled cans. “You’re welcome to sit with me, but I’m not the best company for anyone at the moment.”

  “I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through. You don’t have to talk to me, or tell me anything, but if there’s anything I can do…”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been in Afghanistan. I’ve killed people up close, and I’ve killed them from long range. I’ve seen people lose their whole head from explosions, and I’ve had young boys try and put a knife in me. I saw the planes hit the buildings that day in 2001, and I knew from that moment, the world would be spiralling down the toilet before we could ever hope to bring calmness back to it again. We say that we will rebuild and go on like before, but the words are just cosmetic make-up trying to hide a facial scar. Things will never be the same again.”

  “But where there’s life, there’s hope. There’s still good in this world, and the police will catch this man. You need some rest.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I care about all my neighbours.”

  “I want her back.” The tears start to fall, and I looked away, hoping she didn’t catch me. My tiredness diminished my ability to keep my emotions in check.

  “I’ve been in love, too. You reach that point where you think you’re on top of the world and nothing can bring you down. And then one day, it’s taken from you. My story is nowhere near as tragic as yours, but…”

  I stared at her, my silence stopping her words, and I noticed her looking away. The next few minutes were filled with an awkward lull, and without looking, I could sense her standing beside me. Why is she here?

  “Maybe you and I could get him,” she cut the muted air.

  I almost dropped my binoculars. “You? How are you going to help?” I had feared the answer before it left her lips.

  “Look at me. I fit the profile of his victims.”

  She was right. She was young with dark hair and pretty. But I wasn’t in the habit of putting civilians directly in harm’s way. “I don’t think so, Kathy.”

  She sighed. Using her as bait would go against everything I stood for, even though part of me could see her point. “Thanks, but no thanks, Kathy.” I stood and began to collect my gear.

  “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I see you as having the better chance of catching this guy than the police. You don’t have procedures you have to follow or a chain of command. And while he’s still out there, I’m a potential victim.”

  I walked up and gave her a hug. “I’ll do what I can. I’m just one man watching the city, and I can’t be watching twenty-four seven. Please do one thing for me, take this.” I hand her a pistol. “If someone attacks you, don’t hesitate to—”

  “Put him away? What if I freeze in the moment?”

  “When your life depends on a split second action, you won’t freeze.”

  ******

  I barely enjoyed a good night’s sleep since Afghanistan, and in the time since Melinda was taken from me, I couldn’t remember if I had slept more than two hours at a time. I looked at the clock next to my bed, three fifteen a.m., and I hadn’t even been in bed for two hours, let alone slept for that long.

  Police sirens screamed through the city streets, and I rolled out of bed to peer through the window as the cars drove past. Praying they’re not about to stop at the apartment block I live in, I put on some clothes and ready myself.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as they raced past, but being awake and attempting to squeeze in more slumber would be nothing but a waste of time. For over two months now, I had tried to hunt a shadow with nothing to show for it but a bigger case of insomnia and an armed ally in the apartment across the hall.

  Every morning, she brought me a large cup of hot coffee, and we talked for a good half hour before she left for work. There was nothing in it but friendship, and I think of that as the reason why we got along so well. And besides, I couldn’t even contemplate romance with another person given my emotional state anyway.

  Being awake, I decided I may as well go for a run. I put on my black shorts, hoodie, and a pair of sneakers and made my way to the bone chilling outside world.

  It’s not a strange sight seeing someone outside jogging so early in the day, although most of the population are behind closed doors. Anything or anyone could pop out and attack me, but part of me wasn’t afraid while the other part didn’t care what became of my existence anymore.

  A flicker of movement up ahead captured my eye to something in a dark alley. Probably a feral animal or homeless bum looking for something heavy to drink.

  I followed the sound regardless, turning left to investigate what my instincts told me to heed attention to. The only illumination the area received spilled into it from a streetlight on the street where I had turned in from, and I could see very little up the alley apart from garbage. Smelling like a toilet mixed with rotting food, I held my breath as I stepped into unknown territory.

  My eyes scanned the human-free existence in the stinking abandoned area, searching for the source of the quick action alerting me to walk down the alley. The cold and silent air my body discovered unnerved me. This was not unlike the situations I had found myself in while searching through endless tunnels below the surface of Middle Eastern deserts, looking for the elusive masters of terror. Experience taught me to never lower my guard, even when all appeared calm.

  But all I could see was a splash of light here and there, piles of litter being the lone visible objects throughout the darkness. Backing away inch by inch, I kept my sight locked ahead ready for something possibly jumping out to make its move. I shuffled backwards and the back of my shin found something solid. I turned to see the object blocking my leg’s movement. Unable to prevent the gasp escaping me as I made out the body lying on the ground next to me. I wondered how I didn’t notice it earlier.

  It’s a woman. Blood surrounded her abdomen as it continued to flow from the numerous stab wounds which claimed her life.

  “Gotcha,” a nasally voice shrieked from behind as I felt a blunt object hit the back of my head, and my world went black.

  Chapter 3

  “Well, it all makes sense now.” The police officer looked down at me a few minutes after I had woke in a hospitable bed, my hands cuffed to the side rails.

  “What the hell is going on?” the words flew from my mouth. “I found a dead woman in an alley, and the next thing I know, something hard hits me in the head. And then I wake up here handcuffed to the bed.”

  “It was you all along. Killing and raping women, even your own girlfriend, you sick fuck.” He punched my jaw as the obscenity came out.

  I turned back to face him. “You hit like a child.” I never used the term ‘hit like a girl.’ After serving in the armed forces and seeing how the female officers trained, I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of their punches.

  “You won’t say that after I hit you again.” He pulled his arm back, ready to strike me again when another man entered the room and caught his fist before it could make contact with me.

  “Enough, Officer Roberts. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time,” the new arrival said.

  I recognised his face from the horrible day Melinda was killed. “Ed?” I asked.

  “Griffon, I’ve authorised your release as soon as the medical staff clears you, but please make sure you don’t stray far from home.”

>   “Ed, you can’t be serious,” Roberts said. “If you let this fucker go, he will kill again.”

  I opened my mouth but decided not to say what was on my mind. The only person I wanted to kill was my fiancée’s murderer, but I couldn’t imagine the police agreeing with my intended vigilante urgencies.

  “Why do you think he was found at the scene if he did it after eluding the authorities so long? I swear, Roberts, I’ve heard rookies make more sense than you. Just give me the key to those cuffs.”

  I almost felt the chill of the staring eyes of Roberts. Were they playing a clichéd good cop, bad cop game? “Thanks, Ed.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Griffon. We’ll be watching you like a hawk,” Ed said, accepting the keys from his fellow officer.

  I nodded. The serial killer must have been tailing me to have got the jump on me, so if the cops kept an eye on me, then they might just catch their man. The old-fashioned part of me held some faith in the police force.

  Roberts stormed from the room, leaving Ed alone with me. “Please, just stay home at night. If news gets out that this killer took someone like you out, a lot of people are going to be scared.”

  “I don’t understand how he got the jump on me. I’ve been to Afgan—”

  “I know all about you. Just leave this guy to us, okay? We have a few leads.”

  Ed asked me a few questions I didn’t know the answers to, apart from the sound of the man’s voice. But realistically, I was no help to him. There was something unusual about this cop I couldn’t put my finger on, though. He seemed a little too nice, taking a very strong interest in me. After he had left the room, a doctor entered to check me over before letting me leave.

  Something seemed amiss. For someone found with a victim, I’d been allowed to just get up and leave. I felt numb from everything going on in my life, physically and emotionally. My only purpose I had in my life seemed to be locating and taking vengeance on this killer, and I didn’t even want to think about what I’d do once it was over.

  ******

  I pushed the key in and unlocked my apartment, opening the door cautiously. After the previous night, I couldn’t be too sure he wouldn’t go back to my apartment to wait for me, possibly finishing me next time.

  “Hey, Jack.” A familiar voice almost sent me jumping six feet in the air. I’d lost my nerve and I hated the feeling of not being in control.

  “Geez, Kathy, You scared me half to death.”

  “You need to be more careful out there.”

  “How did you know what happened?”

  She sighed. “The police knocked on my door after they found you unconscious in that alley. They asked me if I knew you were out hunting this killer. I lied to them.”

  I invited her in to continue the conversation. “Thanks. I don’t think it matters anyway. I’m looking for a needle in a haystack. One who can get to me.”

  Her eyes lit up. “You know what we have to do then.”

  I remembered our conversation about using herself as bait. It might just work, but I couldn’t bear to ponder the consequences if it didn’t.

  “My answer’s the same. He got the drop on me last night so he knows he can take me.”

  She sighed. It wasn’t that she wanted to do this for me, I felt, but her intention to put to rest the silent menace of the city was a feeling echoed by millions. Over three hundred people were murdered the previous year, but the seven deaths by the hand of this serial killer had those people in the know scared beyond belief. Kathy happened to be a brave woman who wanted to do something about it.

  “Okay, Kathy, but we do it my way.”

  She smiled and ran over to give me a hug, and in a moment of vulnerability, I welcomed it and embraced her in the same way.

  ******

  In the two days since, the killer claimed another victim, once again aged in her mid-twenties, long dark hair and beautiful. Discovered naked with multiple stab wounds on a rooftop downtown. I’d said it before and I’d say it again, it’s a big city, and as much as I wished it, I couldn’t be everywhere. I felt sad for the poor woman, and if she had a partner, they must have gone through the same hell I had. Not to mention any family she had. I had only been able to face Melinda’s parents once, and it was at the funeral. They were nice enough, but through their tears, I couldn’t help but feel their eyes upon me, their minds perhaps placing some degree of blame upon my shoulders.

  Darkness filled the sky, and the time came to go fishing for a killer.

  Kathy dressed casually as there remained no correlation between what the victims wore and their fates. They were all just going about their everyday business, not necessarily dressed to impress or anything like that.

  As she made her way, I prayed this crazed killer hadn’t spotted Kathy and me together at any time. The plan was for her to head nowhere in particular, from block to block in one direction to hopefully draw him out. In the city that never sleeps, Kathy aimed to keep to the quieter streets and alleyways. Keeping a distance between her and me, I found it hard as a man being my size to remain inconspicuous.

  I would have to be naïve to think Kathy and I could accomplish the mission in one night, or a week, or even in a month. But I weighed up my options. What else did I have to keep me going but a lust for revenge?

  “Excuse me, sir,” a homeless looking man stepped in front of me.

  “Sorry, I’m in a hurry—”

  “Sir, I just need a dollar. I’m so hungry.”

  I looked at his wrinkled features, telling me of a hard life, and one dollar will hardly dent my finances. Pulling my wallet from my pocket, I felt a heavy force from behind smack the middle of my back, the wallet falling from my hand as I regained my balance to face my attacker.

  The skinny man who attacked me laughed at me and disappeared among the crowd as he ran away. No way in hell would I let this prick get away with my wallet, so I turned to face the homeless man just to see if he, too had disappeared. By this time, I’d lost sight of Kathy.

  I chased the wallet thief across the road, crossing three lanes before having to stop in time to dodge one of the city’s world famous yellow cabs from turning me into mincemeat. At this stage, the thief faded from my vision while cutting through a darkened alley. It didn’t take me long to catch on to what was happening. I surmised the thief had been put in place as a decoy.

  But I would use it to my advantage. I made it to the sidewalk on the other side of the road and resumed running in the direction I had last seen my target head in. The alleyway barely lit, I knew how easily this made the possibility of the man getting a jump on me. But on that night, I was prepared for anything.

  I picked the wall on my right, almost sliding along with my shoulder as I shuffled down the darkened alley step by step. Every few seconds, I found a rear door to the shops facing out to a busy city street in the opposite direction to my current location. The cold air would chill the bones of most people, but I was one of those who had never been bothered by cold weather.

  The sound of footsteps caught my ear. Throwing caution to the wind, I picked up the pace and headed to the source, who appeared to have been alerted to my quickened pace. This would be the end of it—he had no strategy but to run from my pursuit.

  It took all of a few seconds to catch him. Upon capture, he immediately began to plead for his life.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. Just give me back my wallet,” I said to him before gripping one of his scrawny arms.

  Smiling through a toothless mouth, the man passed me back my wallet. “All you had to do was ask.”

  I stared him down. All it took was a second for me to notice a nervous twitch in his left eye, the kind of sign I saw a few times when enemy soldiers were captured and questioned by a translator over in the Middle East. It could only mean one thing.

  “Where the fuck is he?” I yelled, grabbing the man’s shoulders.

  “Who?” he quivered on the spot, unable to hide anything from my menacing form.

  I s
lapped his left cheek. “The one who told you to steal my wallet.”

  “I don’t know what you—”

  I slapped his other cheek. “I don’t have time for lies.”

  “Please, you’re mista—”

  Another slap to his face.

  He began to cry, cowering and attempting to fall to the ground. With little time to deal with his crap, I opened my wallet and pulled out a pile of notes. “Here, take the fucking money. I just need to know where the man went who told you to take my wallet.”

  The speed of his recovery betrayed the fear he displayed prior to the offer of money. He licked his lips as his eyes surveyed the pile of green paper I had passed him while his fingers shook.

  “So tell me where he’s going.” The volume of my voice raised and I hoped it didn’t attract any unwanted attention.

  “He’s setting a trap for you. Says it’s personal. Don’t go up there, man.”

  “This isn’t about me. Just tell me where he’s going.”

  ******

  As I walked through the city, all appeared as a blur. People, lights, cars and buildings all blended into one crazy entity as I waded through it towards my destination, the Janel Towers on Neill Avenue in The Bronx. I had no idea if anyone saw me, or if they did, whether they took any notice. Maybe as an individual, I was just as much a blur to the rest of the city as the city appeared to me. At that moment in time, I decided, after all my business with the killer ceased, I would be out of New York City, never to return again.

  Nearing the apartment, I scanned the rooftop for movement. The blackness of night hid anything I tried to take in of the roof of the twenty-four-floor complex. With nothing else to go by but the information from a man paid to steal from me, I decided to take a chance on him telling the truth. I thought I might never get a better chance again and potentially save lives in the process if it did pan out.