Past Evils

Chapter 2 - Land of the Blind

            The bullets whizzing by my head gave off a high pitched note.  Death whistling a tune in my ear.  My pillow exploded in a cloud of feathers as I rolled off the bed.  The bathroom door was only a couple feet away.  I lunged for it, slamming and locking it behind me.  I rolled to the side as bullets tore through the wood like tissue paper.  I crouched to the right of the door, shielding my head with my arms until the shooting stopped.

            The lock on the door was weak and wouldn't stop him, so I frantically looked around for something to fight with.  My eyes fell on a bottle of bleach lying by the bathtub.  I leaned forward and grabbed it as the gunman kicked in the door.  Turning quickly, I threw the bottle at my attacker.  Startled, he raised his gun, instinctively firing a shot at the oncoming object.  The bottle burst, its contents splashing across his face.

            He screamed, dropping his gun and grabbing at his burning eyes.  I ran forward, punching him across the face.  He spun around and fell to his knees.  Not stopping to think, I jumped on him, wrapping my left arm around his neck and holding the top of his head with my right.  That old army instinct took over and I jerked his head to the left.  There was a wet snap and the man went limp, slumping to the ground when I released him.

            I stared at the body under me as feathers fell gently around us like snow.  My military days seemed so long ago, but I had fallen back on my old methods at the drop of a hat.  Turning away I forcefully shoved that thought away.  I had bigger things to worry about.  The man's gun was lying next to me and I reached down, picking it up and examining it.

            It was heavy.  A lot heavier than the stuff you can buy in the local sporting store.  There were custom parts attached that bore no company brand or serial number.  The bullets had torn through my bathroom door like it was nothing.  Rounds that heavy were not available to the general populace.  All this seemed to point to a professional, and professionals rarely worked alone, no matter what the movies told you.

            Knowing someone was probably covering the hall, I headed for the terrace, shoving the gun under the waist band of my pants.  Almost all the apartments in the building had the same kind of little terrace that mine did.  The one below me was only 10 or 12 feet away.  I carefully lowered myself as far as I could from the railing of my terrace and dropped onto the one below.  Thankfully no one was in.  I had to break the lock on the terrace doors and on the front door to get out, but I viewed it as a necessity.

            I quickly made my way to the parking garage and ran immediately to my car.  The gunfire that erupted around me proved that not ALL of my army training had stayed fresh.  I should have known they'd have someone watching my car in case I got out.  Falling to the concrete, I rolled into the row of cars.  Windshields and headlights shattered all around me sending glass tinkering to the ground.

            My car was only a couple feet away.  I rolled underneath the two cars ahead of it and unlocked the door.  I stayed low as I climbed in, turning it on and pressing the gas with my hand.  The car jumped from its spot and started through the garage.  I pulled myself into the seat, still keeping my head down.  For a brief moment I let myself think I had escaped, but the squeal of tires behind me proved otherwise.

            Glancing in the rearview mirror I saw a black car accelerating towards me.  I could make out at least two people in the front seat.  The one in the passenger seat leaned out the window, squeezing off shots at me whenever he had a clear view.  I turned towards the exit, breaking through the wooden barrier arm, hoping that they'd be afraid to chase me through a public street.

            They obviously didn't care as they continued to pursue me through the streets.  I made a sharp right at the next intersection, hoping they were going too fast to turn in time.  They didn't turn, but one of their bullets finally found its mark, blowing out my right back tire.  The car skidded to the side and flipped once, rolling back up on its wheels.

            Pushing the door open, I fell out onto the street.  I had caught a couple scrapes from the crash, including one on my forehead that was threatening to drip into my eyes.  I looked down street to where the black car was backing up to the street I had turned down.  They revved the engine and suddenly accelerated towards me, obviously intending on running me down.  I pulled myself to my feet, feeling a slight weight behind me.  The gun!  Reaching in back of me, I drew the weapon and aimed for the approaching vehicle's tires.

            I fired around 5 shots, one of them hitting.  Their tire exploded, sending them swerving into a building.  The car crunched and broke against the brick.  I watched for a few minutes to see if anyone would emerge from the wreckage.  Nothing.  The street seemed empty.  I see lights on in windows, people huddled in their homes, hoping their walls are thick enough to keep out the evils that howled at their doors.  Someone had probably already called the police, but I didn't want to stand around in the open waiting for them.  Looking around I recognized my location.  I wasn't too far from the High School.  I was afraid someone might still be at my apartment so I decided to head to the school.  Luckily I still had my keys in my pocket and I could call the cops myself from there.

            It took me about 5 minutes to get to the High School.  Running to the door I got out my keys and let myself in.  I had entered the first door I came to, which was on the other side of the building from my office, where I knew a phone was.  I walked through the darkened halls, my footsteps echoing through them.  The shadows stuck to the walls, creeping over them like old sins, trying to reclaim the brighter more hopeful school.  As I opened the door to the gym I heard something.  Freezing, I listened to the sounds coming from one of the locker rooms.  I made my way as quietly as possible over to the door, drawing the gun I had taken.  Edging my way into the locker room, I suddenly spun from behind the corner, leveling the gun and drawing a shout of surprise from the person there.

            "Mr. Barkin?"  The person in front of me was not one of those trying to kill me.  Her bright red hair made her as recognizable as her "hobby" did.

            "Possible!  What are you doing here?"  I asked her gruffly.  It was after 9:30pm and no students should have been in the building at this hour.

            "The janitor lent me his key," she answered, her voice a bit uncertain.  "I had some stuff I had to get ready for the cheerleading competition."  Of course, their competition was this week-end.  "What are you doing with a gun?"  She looked me over, taking in my appearance.  I was scratched in several places from the crash and the gash on my forehead had run down the side of my face.  Her eyes moved to my left hand.  I followed her gaze and found my hand shaking slightly.  I clenched my fist, willing it to stop.

            "Just ran into a little trouble," I started to say, but stopped suddenly when I heard the squeal of tires.  With all that had happened I couldn't bring myself to ignore it.  Making my way to the nearest window I cautiously peered out.  Two black vans were now parked in the parking lot and men in black suits and body armor had filed out the backs.  The guns they carried looked like modified M-16's.  They moved toward the school in a rough 'V' formation with one man at the point.  A typical military maneuver.  This didn't make me feel any better.  Military operations were almost ALWAYS more dangerous.  The right military tactics could sweep a building clean of hostiles in 5 or 6 minutes.

            Possible had followed me to the window, she gasped as she saw the armed men advancing on the building.

            "Who are those guys," she whispered, even though there was no way for the men to hear us.

            "Not sure yet," I replied absent-mindedly.  The group headed for the side doors, disappearing from view.  "We've got to get out of here," I moved from the window, carefully looking around the corner of the door.  Making the call from my office was out of the question now.  These soldiers would be going over the entire building in minutes.  I'd never have enough time.  "How did you get here, Possible?" I asked, praying she gave me the answer I hoped for.

            "My mom let me borrow the car," she replied, not able to keep a slight guilty note out of her voice at driving without a liecensed adult.  She didn't need to worry, I wasn't about to lecture her now.

            "Where is it," I asked.  She told me it was parked in the back parking lot, near the door.  "Great, we'll take that."

            "Where are we going?" she whispered as we cautiously crept from the room.

            "We've got to call the cops," I replied, keeping an eye out for any sign of movement.  "Those soldiers have probably already cut the phone lines to the building.  I know someplace safe we can call from, but we'll have to get to your car first."  Making out way to one of the classrooms, we unlocked a window and slipped out.  The gunmen were on the far side of the school so they shouldn't make it over here for a couple minutes.

            Staying low to the ground, we carefully made our way to Possible's car.  As we approached, however, something brought me up short.  Standing a few feet from the car was Sidney Wilks.  I silently motioned Possible to go unlock her car and get it ready.  Taking cover behind a dumpster, I got as close to Wilks as I could.

            "Wilks," I hissed, trying not to be too loud, "Wilks."  She finally heard me and turned around, hurrying towards me after I motioned her over.  When she was close enough I grabbed her, pulling her down behind the dumpster.  "What are you doing here," I whispered, leading her towards Possible's car.  For being so late at night there seemed to be quite a few students hanging around the school.

            "I heard gunshots," she answered, seeming confused, "I live near here and I was looking out the window trying to see what it was.  I thought I saw you running towards the school.  I...," her eyes looked away as if she were nervous, "I... was worried that you... I mean, that something had happened... to you."  Her gaze rose again to meet mine and for a minute I could only stare back.  Finally looking away I started back towards the car.

            "Someone's after me," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady, "I don't know what's going on, but we have to get out of here.  Possible's got a car; I know a safe place."  'At least I hope it's still safe,' I added silently.  "We can call the cops from there."  Once we were in the car, I revved the engine and tore out of the parking lot as fast as I could.  Trying to be sneaky didn't matter as much as speed.  If we could get out fast enough they wouldn't be able to get back to their van fast enough to follow us.

            The place we were headed was an old movie theater downtown.  It had been out of service for years.  The guy who owned it kept it around for fun and was a buddy of mine.  He liked to hold parties in it and he had given me a key last year.  Not many people knew about it, so I figured it'd be relatively safe to call from.

            As we drove I tried to think of who might want me dead.  This was a pretty good-sized operation and I didn't see who would go to this much trouble to kill me.  Unfortunately, my mind couldn't seem to stay focused on my problem.  I kept drifting back to behind the dumpster.  Thinking about Sidney's concern for me, and the look in her eyes as she stared into mine.  Love can be an oil pit.  You stand at the edge, looking down, telling yourself not to fall in.  Then one slight movement causes your foot to slip.  You turn and try to claw your way back, but you just keep sliding deeper and deeper until you reach the bottom and are swallowed up.

To be continued...