Bystanders

by Phillip Murrell

  Power misunderstands the situation. “Oh, damn. Night Terror must be here.”

  Power looks around anxiously, aiming his shotgun in every direction.

  “Come out, Night Terror! I’ve got something for your punk ass!”

  Power starts to shoot in random directions. His hostage covers her face and screams.

  “So, you take out my friend. What? You got some sort of paralyzing laser gun? Come out and face me like a man! I’m not scared of you anymore!”

  Someone knocks on the front door. Power immediately jerks and shoots toward the front door of his apartment.

  “Now I know where you are! Come on in and play.”

  Power squeezes the trigger, but his weapon doesn’t respond. Power is out of ammo.

  Goon One shouts through the door, “Power, it’s the goons. Let us in, we got to take you someplace safe. Your Night Terror took out the club.”

  Power sighs. He’s unsure if it’s relief from Night Terror not being there or annoyance that the goons are.

  Power yells from his bedroom, “How do I know it’s you and not Night Terror using a voice trick?”

  Goon Two shouts. “Open the damn door, or I’ll break it in!”

  “Go ahead!” Power yells back. “Then I’ll know that it’s you, Night Terror.”

  Power frantically looks for more ammunition.

  “Where did I put those shells?” he mumbles to himself.

  Power is startled when he hears a loud noise as Goon One and Goon Two kick in the door. They both rush into the room. Power immediately swings his shotgun at Goon One. Goon One dodges it, and Goon Two punches Power hard in the stomach. Power doubles over and falls to his knees.

  Through gasps Power utters, “I didn’t know it was you two.”

  Goon One looks at him with disbelief. “I’m pretty sure we knocked and announced ourselves. You’re messed up, man. You need to come with us. Your shooting has probably got some cops on their way over here as we speak.”

  “What about her?” Power asks, pointing with the barrel of his shotgun. “Night Terror hit her with something.”

  The goons look at Power’s hostage.

  “You’re right,” Goon Two says. “Night Terror did kill her.”

  The woman’s eyes go large. She tries to say something, but her mouth is muffled.

  Goon Two continues. “Better to put her down and ease her suffering.”

  Power nods. “Sorry, girl. I did have fun last night.”

  Goon Two walks over and pulls a silenced pistol from his vest. He shoots the woman three times in the head and kills her.

  “Alright, now it’s time to go. Grab some clothes,” Goon One instructs.

  Power scoops up the nearest pile of dirty clothes and his crack. They move to leave the room.

  “Leave the shotgun, moron,” Goon Two says.

  Power is hesitant. “I need this. It’s the only thing that will stop Night Terror.”

  Goon One snatches the weapon out of Power’s hands and throws it onto the bed.

  “We aren’t your detail anymore,” he informs. “We are in charge. You’ll do what we say, or we’ll make things uncomfortable for you.”

  “Yeah?” Power challenges. “The Speaker won’t like that.”

  “She gave the order,” Goon One happily informs. “You’re bait now. The Opposition wants you, so we’re going to leave you dangling.”

  Power runs to the window and attempts to climb out it. The two goons grab him before he gets it open. They throw him to the floor.

  “Try that again and you and I are going to get comfortable on this bed,” Goon Two warns.

  “He has mentioned how attractive you are,” Goon One adds.

  Power fears this threat. “Damn. Alright, I’ll go with you. I’m not going to cause any problems.”

  Goon Two snaps his fingers in mock disappointment. “That’s a shame. I guess it can wait for later.”

  Power hangs his head. He should have gotten out of the game when he could. He steps over his date’s body as he leaves the room.

  Keith and Tina eat their meager breakfast in the Sanders’ kitchen.

  “Did the news get you the extra followers you wanted?” Tina asks her son.

  Keith looks up from his cereal. “Yeah. We’re close to over five thousand followers now. We’re getting out there. It’s becoming a job to check all the comments and confirm them from news reports. I watch the news every night before going to bed, then first thing in the morning. They don’t always have stories about Beatdown, but most days they do. I didn’t expect it to be this much work.”

  “That’s nice,” Tina politely comments. “Just remember that when school starts again, your blog is still just a hobby.”

  “I know, Mom. School’s easy. The homework I get will barely take any time.”

  “So confident.”

  “Was it hard for you?” Keith asks skeptically.

  “Well, no,” Tina says. “I guess we just come from good genes.”

  The two eat a few more bites of their morning meal.

  Keith knows his mom intends to keep to moment going.

  “So, what’s the newest news about that guy?” she asks.

  “Beatdown, Mom.”

  “I have my own name for him, but I don’t want to fight. I just want to hear about your interests.”

  Keith accepts this olive branch. “Fair enough, Mom. The news is trying to blame Beatdown for the fire last night even though they don’t have witnesses or footage. In fact, some reports said it was a fireworks accident.”

  “How do you know he didn’t? You said yourself that he killed those men the other night.”

  Keith rolls his eyes.

  “What was that?” Tina asks with a raised voice.

  Keith quickly realizes his error in judgment. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be disrespectful.”

  “You better watch yourself, but I accept your apology. I’m sure you have a point that runs counter to mine.”

  Keith quickly seizes this opportunity to convert his mom. “The guy at the ice cream shop wasn’t Beatdown. That guy is far worse. We call him Brutal. I think he and Beatdown are enemies, but I don’t have anything to prove my theory.”

  “Why can’t he just have multiple suits?”

  “Because I’ve got footage of the real Beatdown fighting Brutal. The news does, too, but it seems like people keep forgetting this and only focus on Beatdown.”

  Keith pulls up the link on his phone and plays it for Tina. She looks for a second, then hands the phone back over to Keith.

  Tina sighs. “You know I don’t like to look at stuff like this. I see enough of the aftermath at work. Your ‘hero’ has paralyzed and crippled a lot of people.”

  “Yeah, but they all deserved it. They were all criminals.”

  “I’ll concede that most of the victims have a criminal record. I’ll also concede that many were found in compromising positions that heavily implicate their involvement in a crime.”

  “Thank you,” Keith says, somewhat smugly.

  “Don’t interrupt.”

  “Sorry.”

  “However,” Tina continues, “are you judge, jury, and executioner?”

  “No.”

  “Do you agree that we need all of these for a good society? Well, at least the first two?”

  “Yeah, but--”

  “Do you agree?” Tina interrupts.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are the rules different for your Beatdown?”

  “Because he does more for the city than the police do,” Keith protests.

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Do you know why I’m working so late all the time lately?”

  Keith doesn’t answer.

  Tina continues. “I’ll take your silence as understanding. Our city doesn’t have a lot of spinal surgeons. We aren’t supposed to need them with a city this small, yet somehow I’m needed on a nightly basis. I haven’t done anything for m
yself in weeks. I’m always tired, and it’s one hundred percent due to the actions of one man.”

  Keith still doesn’t have a response.

  “I hate that I never see you. I blame Villain,” Tina says.

  “He’s not a villain. He’s just trying something different.”

  “Okay, and maybe he can handle the responsibility. Maybe he knows what has to be done because he’s from the future.”

  Keith smirks.

  Tina continues. “Or whatever. How long until other people try to emulate him? People who don’t have the same equipment, training, and intelligence. Do you think that only guilty people will be hurt?”

  Keith can’t effectively debate her points. “No, probably not, but the innocent haven’t gotten hurt by Beatdown.”

  “Not yet. Not that you know of, but it will happen. Nobody can bat one thousand forever. In the meantime, my hospital is being drained of resources, for criminals, every day. This means that when an innocent kid gets hit by a drunk driver, we won’t have the supplies to treat him properly.”

  “I didn’t think of that,” Keith admits. This conversation didn’t go as he expected.

  “I know, Sweetie, and I don’t blame you for being caught up in the moment. I would have done the same thing when I was your age. I’d probably do the same thing if I had a different career. I see the ugly that most of you can pretend doesn’t happen. It isn’t like the comic books. Collateral damage is a very real thing.”

  Keith thinks deeply about everything his mom just told him. “I understand, Mom, but Beatdown is still doing good. Even if the news is trying to skew things.”

  Tina sighs with closed eyes. “I thought the news was playing him up for you?”

  “That’s D2I. They’re on Team Beatdown, even if they call him First Line. Lately, the other channels are trying to make Beatdown look like a terrorist.”

  “How so?”

  Keith lists the points on his fingers. “One, they blamed him for the abortion clinic explosion on the testimony of a sole bum. Two, that guy was killed days later from a bullet shot, and they pegged Beatdown with that as well. It doesn’t matter that the police later arrested three men after bragging on social media about putting the man in the hospital. They were laughing how it was easy to get away with crime when the whole city is searching for one guy.”

  “Why do these idiots keep bragging online?” Tina wonders.

  “I don’t know, Mom; natural selection I guess.” Keith continues his count of inaccurate stories. “Three, the fight with the slavers who caused a lot of traffic issues. That one wasn’t even Beatdown. The footage is out there proving two guys and nobody even cares. Today, they’re blaming him for the fire at a gang party.”

  “That was a gang party?”

  “The news doesn’t call it that, but just look at the people interviewed.”

  Tina looks disapprovingly at her son. “Keith, we don’t fall victim to stereotypes and profiling.”

  “It’s not stereotyping,” Keith counters. “It’s trend analysis. Even before Beatdown started fixing things, that part of town was high in crime. Nobody goes there unless they’re looking for trouble.”

  “Let’s change the subject,” Tina says.

  “Okay, Mom, thanks for listening to me vent.”

  “At least I don’t have to go to work today. Do you want to do something?”

  “Can we go see a movie? Kyle and I were going to check out Disorder before we got delayed by the fight.”

  “Sure, I guess you’re old enough to watch a rated R film.”

  Keith stifles a laugh.

  Tina smirks, but she obviously feigns ignorance. “Because I know you’ve never seen one before, right?”

  “Sure, Mom. Let’s go with that.”

  “Yes, we will,” Tina agrees.

  “Can I invite Kyle?”

  “I was hoping for just the two of us. I’m sure Kyle’s parents want to do something with him, too.”

  “Alright, but if the movie’s good, I’ll have to see it again with him.”

  “I’m sure you will. When does the movie start?”

  Keith looks up times on his phone. “The first one starts at twelve o’clock. Oh, wait. That one’s in 3D.”

  “So?”

  “3D sucks. It’s a waste of money, and the glasses are uncomfortable.”

  “Okay, when’s the next regular version?”

  Keith searches a bit longer. “There’s one at two-fifteen.”

  “Alright, then let’s make a day of it. We can get brunch, because this breakfast is frankly pathetic. Then, we can do some shopping.”

  Keith sinks a little.

  Tina clarifies. “Shopping for new school clothes, then we’ll go see the movie.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I can always eat.”

  Keith finishes his cereal and slurps his milk from the bowl. He belches, which causes his mother to cover her eyes and groan. Keith then clears his place at the table. He stops and gives Tina a kiss on the cheek.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  Tina touches her cheek. “I love you, too, Sweetie.”

  Alex and his family sit in the pews at Genesis Revelation Catholic Church for mass. Donald is with them, but he looks uncomfortable. They’re dressed in their Sunday’s best. The church is massive and holds hundreds of people. The priest, Father Tom, a wiry man in his early thirties, finishes the service. The bright lights glimmer off the gold of his glasses.

  “The mass is now ended. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord,” he says.

  “Amen,” is the response from the congregation.

  The choir begins to sing the closing hymn while the worshippers file out of the church.

  Outside is pleasantly warm and sunny. Alex leads his family toward Father Tom.

  “Good morning, Father, that was a great service,” Alex says as he extends his arm to shake Father Tom’s hand.

  Father Tom shakes Alex’s hand.

  “Thank you. Uh,” Father Tom searches for a name.

  “I’m Alex Williams. This is my wife, Kim. My daughter, Ava, she’s eight. These are my two-year-old twins, Kellen and Jackson.”

  Father Tom shakes the hands of the family. “Thanks for the introduction. I’m still trying to learn the names of the parish. Your family should be a bit easier because your children are so adorable.”

  “Thank you,” Kim says.

  “And so well behaved, too,” Father Tom adds.

  Father Tom looks at Ava. “Ava, is it? Do you want to see a cool trick?”

  Ava smiles brightly. “Sure.”

  Father Tom takes off his glasses and wraps the frame around his fingers. The material easily bends and pops back into place when he releases them. He then crumples them into a ball and lets it spring back into place before her eyes.

  “Cool!” Ava exclaims.

  “I told you,” Father Tom says.

  He chuckles as she plays with the glasses before handing them back to Father Tom. He places them back on his face and laughs again.

  Alex spots Donald trying to ignore the greeting. Alex doesn’t afford him the privilege. “And, this is my heathen friend, Donald Singh.”

  Donald slowly walks over and shakes Father Tom’s hand. “Hello.”

  Father Tom returns the pleasantry. “Hello. I’m always pleased to meet a challenge. The church needs more believers every day.”

  Donald shrugs. “Good luck, I guess.”

  Father Tom offers one final smile to Alex’s family. He then greets the next group of parishioners behind them.

  Alex and his family move on to the potluck in the community center.

  “I’m going to get the kids a plate,” Kim declares.

  “Do you need some help?” Alex asks.

  “I’ve got it,” she answers. “Ava can help. I know you don’t like getting in line right away.”

  “It’s hard to turn off the army in me.”

  “I know, that’s why I love you.”

  Kim take
s the kids to get some plates while Alex and Donald talk.

  “Looks good,” Alex casually comments. “I can’t wait to eat.”

  “Yeah. You’re lucky the food smells so good, after what you just pulled,” Donald says.

  “What? I’m trying to save your soul,” Alex jokes. “Besides, Father Tom isn’t threatening. He seems like a good fit for this church.”

  “I got the feeling that he was new.”

  “I guess. Father Tom has been here for a month or two.”

  “Not what I meant.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  “He seems young.”

  “You’ve got to start at some point. The church doesn’t just grow old men with centuries of information.”

  “I’d feel better if they did. It’s hard enough to believe Christianity without having a fanboy preach it to me.”

  “Donald, try to be respectful, at least on Sunday.”

  “Sorry, but doesn’t his age bother you?”

  “Not really. He still went to school and studied for a long time.”

  “How can you have so much faith in him?”

  “Everyone has faith,” Alex explains.

  “You know you’re speaking to an atheist, right?”

  “Atheist? Probably not. I see you more as agnostic. Atheists are just hypocrites who make the same argument from the opposite side of the theological coin.”

  “How so?” Donald inquires.

  Alex was hoping he would ask. “I believe there’s a God and have no way of proving it. An atheist believes there isn’t a God and has no way of proving it. It’s the same argument. At least with the agnostic, they just claim to keep an open mind until they get concrete proof. I can at least respect that.”

  Donald shrugs. “Fair enough. Consider me agnostic then.”

  “See, I’m wearing you down.”

  Donald laughs. “Maybe, buddy.”

  “I just proved you have some faith.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Do you believe in black holes?”

  “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Why do you believe in them?”

  “Because I’ve seen them. Scientists have proven their existence.”