Bystanders

by Phillip Murrell

  Gabe closes his eyes for a moment to appear to be sympathetic. “Let’s please have a moment of silence for those brave souls who perished today.”

  Gabe takes his own suggestion and remains silent.

  Yuri sits in a massive and luxurious living room. His plush sofa could fit ten comfortably. He enjoys a glass of red wine as he flips through various news channels. He greatly enjoys himself. Julie stands nearby with hands folded in front of her and holding a tablet.

  “Ha! It worked,” Yuri jubilantly exclaims. “They’ve all turned their backs on The Opposition. That was amazing work, Miss Tress. Truly you’re worth every penny. If I hadn’t given the order, I would have believed that footage of their hero massacring innocent civilians was genuine. It would take the greatest computer geniuses on the planet to confirm it’s a fake.”

  Julie stands by, but she doesn’t display any emotion. “I’m happy to have pleased you. It’s definitely having the effect that we wished.”

  Yuri jumps up from his couch excitedly. He spills his wine onto his sofa. He goes over to his impressive bar to pour another glass. “You’ve more than pleased me. You’ve impressed me. I’m sure that you’ve noticed that’s a difficult feat indeed.”

  Julie looks at some stats on her tablet. “It looks like support for The Opposition is falling at a drastic pace. People believe what they see and hear on television.”

  “Exactly, and they’ve played their part brilliantly. Too bad they don’t realize they’re deserving of a bonus.”

  “You could always make a donation to fix up the community center and give money to the families of the victims.”

  Yuri thinks for a moment. “I love it! I get to win on both fronts, on the criminal end of things and in the realm of public opinion. Those plebeians will eat it up. I continue to win.”

  “What about The Opposition?”

  “What about him?”

  “He seems to be rather intelligent. He may even have determined your involvement. If he hasn’t, he’ll be looking for the people who set him up.”

  “That’s the beauty of this plan. He’ll have to fight the entire police force, maybe even the National Guard.”

  “Sir?”

  “I called my good friend the mayor and whispered into her ear. I told her it was my civic duty to ask for her to encourage the government to mobilize military troops.”

  “That’s a good thing? We’re already paying too much to stop one guy.”

  Yuri glares. “Let’s not go back to that, Miss Tress. The Opposition will have to fight honest men and women who are just trying to restore peace and order. Either he’s a force for good and refrains from hurting them.”

  “Or?”

  “Or, he’s a narcissistic glory hound, and he’ll slaughter them by the dozens. That will mean they’ll put more effort into his demise and eventually kill him. Nobody is that invulnerable. Plus, that reduces the police presence on the streets and helps us to recover some of those lost dollars that you are so concerned with.”

  “I’ve underestimated you, sir. You definitely play the long game. I have a lot to learn.”

  Yuri smiles. “Everyone has a lot to learn from me. Don’t ever forget it. I didn’t make it this far in life by losing. I never lose. I just overcome the numerous obstacles.”

  Yuri sits back down and continues to watch the news. He giggles as each program depicts The Opposition as a psychopathic terrorist.

  Claire’s car screams into the parking lot of D2I, narrowly missing her parked co-workers’ vehicles. She jumps out with a mission and races into the building in her sweaty gym clothes.

  Larry and Gabe hear screams in the hallway.

  Claire’s voice resonates off the walls. “Where are they? Where are those miserable pieces of shit?”

  Gabe fidgets next to Larry.

  “I guess she was listening. If we’re lucky, she’ll get all dramatic and quit,” Larry says.

  “Stay strong, Larry. What’s done is done,” Gabe reminds.

  Claire rounds the corner with murder in her eyes. They lock in on Larry and Gabe. She runs straight for them.

  Gabe must want to placate her. “Claire, calm down.”

  Claire instantly punches Gabe in the nose and bloodies it. Gabe immediately covers it up with both trembling hands.

  “You bitch! I’ll sue you! You aggressive whore!”

  “Shut up, you baby. Learn to take a punch and not be such a pussy.” Claire turns her glare toward Larry. “Hi, Boss. You got something to say to me?”

  Larry swallows. “Calm down, Claire. I told you what would happen if this thing blew up in our faces.”

  Claire grins menacingly. “Funny, I don’t remember talking about calling me insane as part of the plan. Or irresponsible or,” she fights back the rage tears. “Or exploiting Lou’s death for the second time!”

  Numerous office personnel curiously watch the exchange. Larry and Gabe look increasingly nervous from the attention.

  “Get back to work, people!” Larry demands.

  That sends them scattering.

  Claire knows she can take the upper hand. “What’s the matter, Boss, you don’t want them to hear the ravings of a mad woman? I’m surprised you have the sack to get rid of people who could hold me back.”

  Gabe squeezes shut his bleeding nose. “Bitch, you played a hand and lost. Just take the nice severance package and walk out of our lives. You’ve done enough damage.”

  Claire feigns like she’s going to hit Gabe again, and he flinches.

  “I always knew you were a bitch,” she gloats. She then glares once more at Larry. “So, you think I’m just going to go quietly?”

  Larry sighs. “Never with you, Claire. But, I do know that you’re going to go. You can either resign and take the package or I can fire you now, and you can take the welfare.”

  “Maybe you can just cozy up to that cop. I guess they make alright salaries,” Gabe says.

  This comment does earn a second punch, and Gabe screams again.

  “Aerobics, bitch!” Claire taunts.

  Gabe looks at Larry while his blood spills onto the carpet. “Where’s your security? I need my face!”

  Judging by how much he’s sucking his teeth, Larry must want to regain control. “Claire, either you leave right now or I’m calling the police.”

  Claire is unconcerned. “Call them! I’m not quitting and you’re not firing me. I record my conversations when this asshole is around.”

  Gabe screams. “Me? Why?”

  Claire states the obvious. “Because as any woman who works here knows, you can’t keep your dick away from us. You always say inappropriate shit, and I have a treasure trove of recordings.”

  Gabe cries, from a mixture of pain and concern. “I’ve got a wife!”

  “Whom you don’t care about!” Claire counters.

  Larry doesn’t seem to care about Gabe’s plight. “That’s too bad for Gabe, but why does that keep me from firing you?”

  Claire smiles. “Because I know you can’t afford another scandal right now. One of your anchors, your protégé even, is sexually harassing all women who work at D2I. If I don’t have a job, then I’m burning your life’s work down with me.”

  Gabe and Larry try to stare Claire down, and she just stares right back.

  Larry sighs and relents first. “Fine, Claire. Have it your way. You still have a job, but you’ll never be on the air again with anything meaningful. Let’s see how long you’re willing to do the cutesy crap that no one else will do. If you don’t like it, then screw you! Make your allegations, and we’ll weather the storm. Just like we have to weather this First Line, correction, Psyops, problem that you created for us.”

  Claire concedes. Her adrenaline is draining.

  She forces a cheerful voice. “Great, Boss. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

  Claire turns and strolls out of the office. Gabe and Larry exhale.

  “You alright?” Larry asks Gabe.

  “That bitc
h has a punch,” Gabe says.

  “Let’s get you some ice.”

  The two walk toward the break room. There isn’t a co-worker in sight.

  Kyle rings the doorbell to Keith’s house. Keith eventually answers.

  “Hey,” Kyle starts, “you want to talk?”

  Keith was up all night. He’s extremely exhausted and still dressed in pajamas.

  “Yeah, come on in. My mom already left for work.”

  Keith lets his friend enter his home. Keith and Kyle walk into the living room. Keith promptly flops onto the sofa and rests his feet on the glass coffee table in front of him. Kyle sits on the matching love seat.

  Keith knows why his friend is there. “Elephant in the room. I’m sure you saw the news last night.”

  Kyle offers a half-smile. “Yeah, things have gotten bad for Beatdown. How hard did the blog take it?”

  Keith throws a tablet over to Kyle. “We’re back down to the early day numbers. They’re jumping ship. Usually after saying something messed up about us and our mothers.”

  Kyle reads a few posts for himself. “Why so much focus on our anuses?”

  Keith frowns at Kyle. “Don’t you even care? We’re Beatdown’s fan club. Don’t you have any loyalty?”

  “Loyalty? To that psycho?” Kyle asks.

  Keith sits upright, feet firmly on the floor, and glares at Kyle. “What did you say?”

  “Look, man, I was rooting for him, too, but the footage proves it all. Beatdown’s been using others to kill for him while he masqueraded as a superhero. He fooled us. It’s not a big deal, but I’m not going to ignore the obvious now.”

  Keith stands with clenched fists. Kyle stands, too.

  “Whatcha gonna do?” Kyle challenges. “Don’t raise up on me just because you’re pissed. I’m trying to be your friend.”

  Keith is furious. “Some friend. You’re acting more like a little bitch than a friend.”

  Kyle clenches his jaw. He turns to leave. “Man, screw you. I don’t need to take this shit. I’m out of here.”

  “Sure, walk away, you little bitch,” Keith taunts.

  Kyle stops in his tracks and turns around. “Take that back, or I’ll make you.”

  Keith squares off to him and gestures. “Nothing but space and opportunity between us. You think I’m scared of your punk ass?”

  “You better watch your mouth. I’m warning you.”

  Keith holds out his hands and offers his chest. “That’s all you ever do, warn people. Why don’t you act for once?”

  That last comment makes Kyle snap. He charges Keith and wraps his arms around his waist, forcing him to the ground. Keith grunts as the air rushes out of his lungs. Kyle mounts Keith and starts punching him in the face. He lands several blows, but Keith puts up his hands in defense and protects his head.

  “You mother--” Keith begins before receiving another fist to the mouth.

  Kyle punches Keith again. Keith reverses the hold by rolling and throwing Kyle to the ground.

  “You dirty son of a bitch!” he screams.

  Kyle swings a wild haymaker at Keith again. “I told you not to go there!”

  The boys square off with their fists clenched. Their breaths are heavy and often.

  “What now, bitch?” Keith asks.

  Kyle charges again. This time Keith sprawls out and forces Kyle’s head into the carpet.

  “How’s it taste?” Keith gloats.

  Kyle flops about and finally forces Keith off him. He picks up an errant slipper on the floor and throws it at Keith’s head.

  Keith easily dodges the projectile. “What the hell?”

  This time Keith charges Kyle. Kyle grabs him by both wrists and swings him around. He sends Keith into the glass table in the center of the living room.

  There’s a crash as the table shatters. Keith lies dazed in the middle of the glass shards. He’s luckily not cut.

  “Damn, I’m sorry, man,” Kyle immediately says with a hint of sympathy.

  The pain in his back forces Keith to release the tears he hoped to avoid. “Screw you!”

  Keith struggles to get up, but the metal parts of the table frame make it awkward. Kyle reaches down and tries to help Keith up, but he slaps the hand away.

  “Get out of my house! Leave me alone! I don’t need you or anyone else who wants to turn his back on Beatdown!”

  Kyle throws up his arms, scoffs, and starts to leave. “Whatever, man. I don’t have time to be your nursemaid today. You go ahead and live in denial. Tell the mayor of Fantasy World that I said hi.”

  Kyle storms out of the room. Keith sits in the glass and looks around the living room. It’s a mess, and he’s in trouble. He wipes away the tears and gets up. He goes into a different room. He soon returns with a broom and dustpan. He begrudgingly begins to clean up the mess.

  Claire enters Sam’s office. She looks out the window and sees a beautiful summer afternoon. She longs to be out there instead of in another session. She finally acknowledges Sam’s presence in the room. He has a concerned look.

  “Claire, nice to see you again. I know you’ve had a rough past couple of days. I’m not going to pretend that I understand. We’ll begin when you’re ready.”

  Claire appreciates Sam’s patience. She sits down and sighs. “Doc, I’m sure you’ve seen all the news blasting First Line.”

  “I have. How does that make you feel?”

  “Is that some kind of lame joke? How the hell do you think it makes me feel? I’m a mix of emotions.”

  “Like which ones?”

  Claire thinks for a moment. “I’m angry at my boss and peers for selling me out before I even had a chance to explain myself.”

  “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. I’m also mad at First Line. I know he didn’t kill those people, but he hasn’t been seen since. He has to know that he can come to me to share his story, but he hasn’t reached out since I was attacked. He could fix this entire mess, but he’s acting like a coward.”

  “Do you think he’s a coward?”

  “Of course not. I don’t understand him at all.”

  “How do you know he’s still alive? Perhaps he lost to someone bigger and badder, and that person took his armor.”

  Claire shakes this off. “I can’t believe that. You haven’t seen this guy in action, Doc. I have. It would take something like a tank to stop First Line. I know he’s out there. I just wish I knew what he’s doing.”

  “Is there anything you can do?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Exactly, so it isn’t healthy to dwell on it. If First Line is the hero that you claim him to be, and I believe you, then he has a plan. He probably doesn’t care about public opinion.”

  “Probably not.” Claire takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Thanks for letting me vent, Doc. I needed that.”

  “Everyone does. Now how about your homework assignment?”

  “What assignment?”

  Sam sighs. “I thought we discussed you writing a letter to the Drive family expressing your sadness and apologizing for your actions?”

  Realization dawns on Claire. “Oh that. I started it, but it was too hard to finish.”

  “How far did you get?”

  “Dear Mr. and Mrs. Drive.”

  “Well, that is the traditional start.”

  Claire smiles. “Yeah, it’s the ‘sorry I got your son killed’ part that doesn’t have an agreed upon formula.”

  “Well, I promise that if I ever discover one, I’ll pass it along.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  Sam pulls out some paper and a pen. He sets it all on his desk. “Let’s write it together, right now. It’ll be good for you.”

  “I thought I had to write it alone?”

  “I won’t tell if you won’t,” Sam says.

  Claire is hesitant to reach for the pen.

  “Trust me,” Sam continues, “you’ll be happy once it’s done.”

  Claire
slowly moves over to the desk and takes a seat.

  “Why don’t we keep your start that you already wrote,” Sam playfully suggests.

  Claire laughs. “Sure, I think I can remember it.”

  “I should hope so.”

  Claire picks up the pen and begins to write. “What next?”

  “This still has to be your letter. The words need to come from you.”

  Claire thinks for a moment and becomes discouraged. She throws the pen down, and it rolls off the desk to the seclusion behind the curtains.

  “I can’t. I’m not ready,” she complains.

  “Yes, you are. Tell them about anything you remember about Lou.”

  Claire thinks again and smiles. “He did have a cute story about saying ‘pretty please fire station’ that he shared.”

  Claire watches bewilderment flash across Sam’s face, but he quickly lets it pass.

  “Sure. Tell them that. I’m sure they’ll understand its meaning, and it will help them relate to you. Lou wouldn’t just tell that story to anyone.”

  Claire furrows her brow. “I don’t know. Lou was definitely the type of guy who would share that story with everyone.”

  “Even better. It means that you were a friendly ear to a new worker.”

  Claire pulls a second pen from the desk and adds that story to her letter. She looks up at Sam. “Should I comment about how he was helping me out?”

  “Absolutely. Let them remember that they raised a perfect gentleman who always turned the other cheek. It will get them to think about doing the same. It’ll lead them to forgiving you, that being our ultimate goal.”

  Claire writes a little more, then she gets some inspiration and writes more. She starts to smile as her pen continues to fly across the paper.

  “I think that’s it. Would you look it over?” she asks.

  “Of course, I will.”

  Claire hands the pages over to Sam. He begins to read. He nods along as he gets through the whole thing. “Very good. A little long, but I can tell that it all comes from the heart and soul. I’m proud of you, Claire. This is a giant first step.”