Balance - Book 2

Home > Fantasy > Balance - Book 2 > Page 54
Balance - Book 2 Page 54

by Marc Dickason


  *****

  I scrambled to my feet and realised the apartment door was open. Phillip’s voice came ringing from the corridor beyond.

  “Help! Someone call the Enforcers! Help!”

  “Oh my God, oh my God…” I muttered.

  “Get him!” Benny roared.

  I burst into a sprint for the apartment door but vision was still blurred. I collided heavily with the doorframe, body spinning awkwardly and feet tap-dancing to stay steady.

  “Phillip! Wait!” I called into the corridor.

  There was a glimpse of his mass thirty meters ahead, turning and waddling into the stairs. On my left an apartment door opened and a familiar face of a pensioner appeared.

  “Help!” Phillip cried again, “Someone help me!”

  I gave chase, stumbling into the corridor with legs made of toffee.

  “Does someone need help?” the old woman asked.

  I staggered passed her.

  “Phillip!” I yelled desperately, “Wait!”

  By the time I reached the stairs he was still visible below, finishing his descent and heading for the next flight. His breath drifted up like the chugging of a steam train.

  “Phillip, stop!”

  “What’s going on?” asked the old woman from behind, “Is something happening?”

  “Everything is fine,” I yelled over my shoulder, “Just go back inside!”

  I took a deep breath and steadied my arm on the banister, aiming down. Heavy footfalls echoed and I waited, watching for the brief view I would have as he passed onto the next flight. If I missed he would be out onto the streets in a few more waddles. There was a flicker of blue and I released the bolt. The sound of him hitting the stairs had every similarity to a sack of potatoes.

  “Oh thank God.” I began my descent, bandaged hand clinging to the banister. “Phillip, you okay, buddy?”

  “Please! Please just let me go,” he wailed.

  “Stay there, man. I’m coming to you.”

  I rounded onto the last flight and he came into view. His body was hunched, one hand gripping the twisted wrist of the other. Tears flowed down his rosy cheeks.

  “I swear I won’t tell,” he mewled, “Please don’t make me forget my wife.”

  “Up you get, Phillip. Come on.”

  “Is everything alright down there?” a voice came from the floor above, “Does someone need help?”

  “Everything is fine,” I called back. “I’m an Enforcer. Everything is under control.”

  Phillip wept like a scolded child as I helped him back to his feet. Together we mounted the steps back up to the apartment. As we reached the fifth floor Benny passed limping by in front of us.

  “Hello, ma’am,” I heard him. His voice was level. “My name is Kingston, I’m an Enforcer.”

  “I heard someone calling for help,” the old woman responded, “is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine, ma’am.” There was a pause. “You were just watching television, weren’t you? And an interesting show came on. There was a man escaping from an apartment and the police were chasing him. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes,”

  “Thank you. Do you know who else is home today, ma’am?”

  “Mrs. Lorenzo is probably home.”

  “And where does she live?”

  “Three doors up.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Benny passed by again as I exited the stairs. Beside me Phillip continued to cry.

  “Is he hurt?’ Benny asked.

  “Think he just twisted his wrist.”

  “Get him inside. Hurry.”

  Three gruelling hours later we released Phillip at the train station with a pocket full of hundreds and suitcase packed with essentials. From then on he would be known as Gerald Smith, a simple man who preferred to work with cash and had a ravenous interest in stamp collecting. He would likely never secure official identification again. But, thankfully, where he was going the locals hardly cared.

  “Bye, guys” he said, giving us a cheerful wave, “Thanks for everything.”

  The car moved off and we drove in silence, heading to the residence of Mrs. Phillip the security guard.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Benny at length.

  “I know, Jet. I’m sorry I hit you.”

  “I know that man didn’t deserve this.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t. You may as well have killed him.” He cleared his throat noisily. “I’ll tell you if you want. Where to find your mother.”

  I glanced at him, heart leaping. “He knew?”

  “He knew something, yes.”

  “I’d like to know.”

  He sighed. A hand wiped over tired eyes. “I need you to promise me some things, Jet.”

  “What?”

  ‘Whatever you do, you do it right.”

  “Of course…”

  “Make sure it doesn’t come back to us. I don’t care how; just make sure it stays hidden. I can help, of course, but it will be the last favour I ever do for you. The last. Where you’re going I don’t want to be involved. That road is for the insane.”

  I moistened my lips. “Look I’m sorry…”

  “And one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “If you get caught, Jet, if the D.O.M takes you down, you have to refuse Rehabilitation and serve the time. You have to insist. Understand me? Agree to the charges and serve the time.”

  “I won’t get…”

  “Because, if they get deep inside your head they will eventually find me and I will go down with you. I don’t want to go down for links to homicide. That’s a long time to go away. Promise me. Say it.”

  I stared at him. I had never felt so alone. “I promise.”

  We drove on in silence. He glanced at a road name and turned the car at an intersection.

  “I’m sorry, Benny.”

  “Our friend Phillip was called into the Global Net building to help when one of the children made an unexpected run for it. Your grandmother was hurt, and after the child was caught he drove her to your mother. They did a good job of scrubbing the information. But I saw part of it. Mostly luck. Your mother is living here. In town.”

  My mouth gaped. “She’s in town…?”

  “Yes. Didn’t go far. Had no reason, I suppose.”

  “Where?”

  “Can’t tell you exactly. Maybe if I’d had more time. But I can tell you it’s the top floor and on a block in the centre of town. And, as I remember, there are four apartment buildings on that particular block. So just a matter of time.”

  My heart thundered. “Just a matter of time. Thank you.”

  We stopped at the residence of Mrs. Phillip. Upon opening the door she looked horrified.

  “Oh my God,” she breathed, “is it Phillip? Has something happened?”

  “No, ma’am. He’s fine. Can we come inside for a moment?”

 

‹ Prev