Detroit, Michigan 1992
My path is clear now, I read the address from the note Hank gave me, now all that stands between me and Albert Zerstoiten is chaos and brutality. Nobody said this would be easy.
The players are out of my league here, super powered individuals who only show up when the local news station tells them they should. Give me that kind of power and I’d change the world, instead of all out war on the streets.
A burning sensation hits my gut, hard to tell if its pain or instinct. Hank said something about a final judgement, this battle is clearly a prelude to something else, something much bigger… and deadlier.
I climb up a fire escape, manage to get above the blood and sweat. The building I need to get to is beyond them. The detective in me suspects this battle is a diversion of some sort, intended to keep the so called heroes at bay.
All brawn and no brain… we’re doomed.
I jump from one building to the next, using every last ounce of strength I have to carry me across. Once past the chaos below me I head for a second fire escape.
Then like a hammer I feel it, my insides feel like they’re about to explode. I fall to the ground in agony, twisting and turning above the warriors below. Stupid old man, you pushed yourself too far… forgot you were only human, you pretend you’re above all this, above all them, but you’re just as battered and broken as the rest.
I hold a hand to my ribs, feeling bone creak against bone, I push myself up from the floor with the other. All the while more than ever noticing my own mortality.
I push myself forward, over the edge and down the fire escape. The soles of my feet crush scattered glass on the floor, the slick oiled liquids that inhabit the ally pool around my feet. I put a hand to the wall and cough up blood, when I look up I see it, just across the street, my final destination.
“Remember me?”
A voice from behind me, I’m slipping. I turn around, and am met with a gun to the face. I feel my jaw move in ways it shouldn’t, I hit the ground, my blood stains the floor.
“I had a good thing going.”
I look up and see him, the man that started it all… dressed in white with the face of a demon. The bride.
“They said I’d find you again, didn’t count on you finding me though.”
Behind him a demon lurks, wings spread… fire spitting from its mouth.
It approaches me with devilish intent, the bride looks on with glee. His hand loosening on the gun, my blood dripping from its grip.
I roll over and slowly get to my knees the demon is in no hurry. I pull a knee up to my chest, letting the other support my body.
With so many super powered people running and flying around it’s easy to forget about the abilities of a normal man. Sure we can’t fly and lift cars above our heads.
“Make it slow, I want to see his expression change when his life is ripped from his heart.”
The demon turns and smiles at the bride.
Mistake.
I push my knee from my chest, using the oiled lubricated floor to slide through the demons legs. The look on the brides face is worth the pain coming from my ribs as I snatch the gun from his loosened hand and blow a hole in the demons head.
It falls to the ground, smoke and black tar slip from the wound. The bride tries to kick me whilst I’m down, I shoot his feet from under him.
I slowly climb to my feet and walk towards the bride.
“I won’t tell you anything this time. Just go ahead and kill me.”
I slide my hand to the barrel of the gun pull my arm back and swing… knocking him out cold.
“Shhh.”
This is the point where I take the prisoner down to the station, but things are a little different now. Invisible needles remind me of my limited time.
I relieve the gun of its cargo, throw it away and make my way across the street.
I get to the middle of the street when I see it. An explosion in the sky, so small yet so loud.
I turn to the battle, a few of the heroes look up in the sky with regret. One lone hero sheds a tear as they mouth the word.
“… vanguard…”
This seems to only make them fight harder. I get to the building and I’m met with two spandex wearing heroes. I know it’s the end of July, but this is pushing it.
“Stand back citizen, leave Doctor Destroyer to us.”
I’d ask to see there superhero badge, but I doubt they’d get the joke.
“Its been a long few days, super powers or not, I’m going through that door.”
They seem to be in a hurry, they rush past me and leave me to my fate.
Which suits me fine.
I’m about to head inside when the door blows off its hinges, making me dive out of the way. One hero flies out, a lifeless shell of what went inside. The second jumps outside and lands beside him, noticing his friends fate he looks up towards the door.
“You animal… you killed him.”
A man in a suit of armor steps outside, sunlight bouncing from his golden frame.
“Is it not you, who sought to kill me?”
The lone hero stands up ready to face the challenge ahead.
“Only to stop you… you’ve hurt too many people, I can’t let it go on any longer.”
Brave words, but it doesn’t take a scientist to know this guys out matched.
The golden man steps forward, towards the lone hero. Leaving a route clear for me to slip inside.
The spandex wearing hero will do his job… its time for me to do mine.
I head to the door, a small group of heroes join the man in spandex, evening the odds a little. Makes my decision seem less cowardly, but I have to get inside, and in my condition I wouldn’t last more than fifteen seconds with that guy.
Once inside its simply a matter of heading towards the most expensive looking thing in the building, which just so happens to be a giant computer flashing with blue and purple lights. A big red button glows violent red, above it sits a computer screen showing me my fate.
T-Minus 10 seconds.
I’m not a computer hacker, I can’t re program a VCR let alone a master computer in a villains lair.
I do what any sane man would do in a situation like this. I run as fast as I can towards the door, picking up a piece of splintered door frame as I do.
I bolt through the door and towards the battle outside. Spotting the man in the golden armor being almost over whelmed by the attacking heroes. I leap towards him, splintered wood in hands, my body is broken, but my soul is mended.
As I land a perfect shot to his head one beautiful brilliant flash erupts from the sky like a stairway to heaven, coming to claim our souls.
In my last moments I feel empty, I can’t help but wonder if all this had been for nothing. Despite my best intentions I did nothing, no one is any better because of me.
Then just before the sky goes black, before my eyes are closed and my mind wonders off I see it. A small yellow cab, its passengers looking in there rear view mirror and seeing the destruction, in the distance.
I wonder if anyone will remember me, if they’ll know how much I suffered these past few days. I wonder if anyone will remember the name Detective Drake Vermont.
The End
Thursday 21 May 2009
Legend of a Hero - Issue Thirteen -
Detroit, Michigan 1992
Time stands still as I look down the barrel of a gun, an angel hovers behind, a mix of doubt and confusion consume her face.
“Listen.”
I choke.
“This isn’t what it looks like.”
She lowers the gun.
“Where’s Mike?”
Tears form in her eyes, each one taking a decade to fall.
“What have you done to him?”
I’ve spent too long looking out for myself, forgotten what it’s like to really care about someone. She reminds me.
“If he’s dead I’ll... please... where is he?”
I slowly climb out of the car, a gun points towards my heart. I step towards the drivers door.
“Stop, don’t you dare...”
Her grip slips, hands shaking. I could snatch the gun away easy, wouldn’t break a sweat... but I don’t.
“Get in... I’ll take you to him.”
The weight of the gun becomes too much, she lowers it to the ground, barrel facing the floor.
“Please, just tell me he’s alright.”
Sometimes the unthinkable happens, you allow yourself to trust someone so completely without any real reason to do so.
She climbs into the car.
This is one of those times.
We approach riverside with a wave of nostalgia.
“... hate answering machines...”
Somewhere in this mass of abandoned warehouses and cracked walkways is a man... a kid.
“... something came up...”
He holds an angels heart in his hands.
“... Hinderman didn’t show...”
We bump around the road like a cheap dodgem car. Inside rattles, outside shakes.
“... car stolen...”
The angel hasn’t said a word since we arrived, her eyes dart from left to right.
“... no luck...”
Making a paper bag in the wind seem like the cure to cancer.
“... hitch a ride...”
A phone box in the distance.
“... be home soon...”
Inside lives a man, head in his hands.
“... don’t wait up for me...”
Using his last quarter to call heaven.
“... at Riverside...”
To get through to an angel.
“... love you...”
DEEP
The phone dies, and at that same time a man is renewed.
The angel leaps from the car, all anger and distrust pushed aside... and replaced with love.
They both let loose a sea of tears, and for one brief moment, I forget about the task ahead of me. About the injuries I’ve sustained, about the one person behind tonight’s unfolding event.
“Mike, I was so worried...”
They kiss and hug and hide from the rain in each others arms.
“... car crashed...”
She explains the situation, gets her emotions under control. Mike does the same.
“Disk gone...”
The disk, I’ll thank him for that later.
“... no money...”
Mike spots me in the drivers seat, an unwelcome spectator.
“You!”
My wit gets the better of me.
“Me!”
He shifts forward, placing his beloved behind him.
“You stole my car, stole the disk, left me here.”
All true.
“I sent someone to come look for you.”
Even though I knew he wouldn’t show.
“But I’m here now, here to set things right.”
They wait with arms folded, tough crowd.
“It was wrong of me to leave you here, you need to get away, get out of Detroit.”
The happy couple shuffles.
“Something’s coming, something big... and Detroit is ground zero.”
They believe me, maybe I should’ve been a politician. Maybe not... never was good at lying.
“Get in the car, both of you... I’ll drive us to the crash site, you can take it from there.”
Mike moves towards the car, the angel is frozen in place.
“Mike, wait... we can’t trust him.”
He turns and smiles.
“We don’t need to trust him, we have a gun.”
You can say a lot about the kid, but he’s right... the man with the gun is law, the rest tend to listen.
They both climb inside, gun trained at my head, he doesn’t say it, but I know one false move, and I’m dead.
We get to the crash site, the meters still running, I turn it off... good job this rides free.
We all climb outside, the gun is hip height, could still take it from them, but there’s little point now... this will be the last time I see either of them.
“Get in the car and drive away, don’t stop for anything.”
The angel pauses, her distrust of me is overtaken by her compassion towards others.
“Come with us, you said it yourself, Detroit is ground zero.”
Her voice brings hope to disaster.
“I can’t... this is my fight.”
I check my wounds.
“Probably my last.”
I turn to face the street ahead.
Behind me a yellow taxi turns around and tumbles down the street.
I block out the pain and face my future, don’t need a car, this was a one way trip.
The sun rises slowly behind the city skyline, my back is to the night.
In the distance I see something, a riot? No, something else... something the city streets are ill equipped for.
A battle, a vicious battle... it has started, not much time left... I need to get to my destination.
And if I’m right.
I only have minutes left...
To be continued...
Time stands still as I look down the barrel of a gun, an angel hovers behind, a mix of doubt and confusion consume her face.
“Listen.”
I choke.
“This isn’t what it looks like.”
She lowers the gun.
“Where’s Mike?”
Tears form in her eyes, each one taking a decade to fall.
“What have you done to him?”
I’ve spent too long looking out for myself, forgotten what it’s like to really care about someone. She reminds me.
“If he’s dead I’ll... please... where is he?”
I slowly climb out of the car, a gun points towards my heart. I step towards the drivers door.
“Stop, don’t you dare...”
Her grip slips, hands shaking. I could snatch the gun away easy, wouldn’t break a sweat... but I don’t.
“Get in... I’ll take you to him.”
The weight of the gun becomes too much, she lowers it to the ground, barrel facing the floor.
“Please, just tell me he’s alright.”
Sometimes the unthinkable happens, you allow yourself to trust someone so completely without any real reason to do so.
She climbs into the car.
This is one of those times.
We approach riverside with a wave of nostalgia.
“... hate answering machines...”
Somewhere in this mass of abandoned warehouses and cracked walkways is a man... a kid.
“... something came up...”
He holds an angels heart in his hands.
“... Hinderman didn’t show...”
We bump around the road like a cheap dodgem car. Inside rattles, outside shakes.
“... car stolen...”
The angel hasn’t said a word since we arrived, her eyes dart from left to right.
“... no luck...”
Making a paper bag in the wind seem like the cure to cancer.
“... hitch a ride...”
A phone box in the distance.
“... be home soon...”
Inside lives a man, head in his hands.
“... don’t wait up for me...”
Using his last quarter to call heaven.
“... at Riverside...”
To get through to an angel.
“... love you...”
DEEP
The phone dies, and at that same time a man is renewed.
The angel leaps from the car, all anger and distrust pushed aside... and replaced with love.
They both let loose a sea of tears, and for one brief moment, I forget about the task ahead of me. About the injuries I’ve sustained, about the one person behind tonight’s unfolding event.
“Mike, I was so worried...”
They kiss and hug and hide from the rain in each others arms.
“... car crashed...”
She explains the situation, gets her emotions under control. Mike does the same.
“Disk gone...”
The disk, I’ll thank him for that later.
“... no money...”
Mike spots me in the drivers seat, an unwelcome spectator.
“You!”
My wit gets the better of me.
“Me!”
He shifts forward, placing his beloved behind him.
“You stole my car, stole the disk, left me here.”
All true.
“I sent someone to come look for you.”
Even though I knew he wouldn’t show.
“But I’m here now, here to set things right.”
They wait with arms folded, tough crowd.
“It was wrong of me to leave you here, you need to get away, get out of Detroit.”
The happy couple shuffles.
“Something’s coming, something big... and Detroit is ground zero.”
They believe me, maybe I should’ve been a politician. Maybe not... never was good at lying.
“Get in the car, both of you... I’ll drive us to the crash site, you can take it from there.”
Mike moves towards the car, the angel is frozen in place.
“Mike, wait... we can’t trust him.”
He turns and smiles.
“We don’t need to trust him, we have a gun.”
You can say a lot about the kid, but he’s right... the man with the gun is law, the rest tend to listen.
They both climb inside, gun trained at my head, he doesn’t say it, but I know one false move, and I’m dead.
We get to the crash site, the meters still running, I turn it off... good job this rides free.
We all climb outside, the gun is hip height, could still take it from them, but there’s little point now... this will be the last time I see either of them.
“Get in the car and drive away, don’t stop for anything.”
The angel pauses, her distrust of me is overtaken by her compassion towards others.
“Come with us, you said it yourself, Detroit is ground zero.”
Her voice brings hope to disaster.
“I can’t... this is my fight.”
I check my wounds.
“Probably my last.”
I turn to face the street ahead.
Behind me a yellow taxi turns around and tumbles down the street.
I block out the pain and face my future, don’t need a car, this was a one way trip.
The sun rises slowly behind the city skyline, my back is to the night.
In the distance I see something, a riot? No, something else... something the city streets are ill equipped for.
A battle, a vicious battle... it has started, not much time left... I need to get to my destination.
And if I’m right.
I only have minutes left...
To be continued...
Legend of a Hero - Issue Twelve -
Detroit, Michigan 1992
The cab meter counts down as I wait for the angel to return. She appears from the front of the car holding my hat, her face is scrunched up and confused.
She looks at me with a mix of scorn and distaste.
She stops short of the door, hat in hand.
“Is this what you were looking for?”
She passes me the hat, then retreats away from the door.
“Where did you get the car?”
The clocks ticking, don’t have time for questions.
“A friend of mine lent it me.”
The lie brings a bitter taste to my mouth.
“What’s he called?”
I don’t like where this is leading. I read from the cab drivers I.D.
“Kenny.”
A slight smirk appears up the side of her mouth. Wrong answer.
“That’s strange… this car looks exactly like my boyfriends.”
What are the odds.
“He dropped me off here then went to meet someone at Riverside.”
It can’t be a coincidence.
“So tell me again…”
She pulls out a gun, the cab driver makes a run for it, leaving the keys behind.
“… where did you get the car?”
The cab meter counts down as I wait for the angel to return. She appears from the front of the car holding my hat, her face is scrunched up and confused.
She looks at me with a mix of scorn and distaste.
She stops short of the door, hat in hand.
“Is this what you were looking for?”
She passes me the hat, then retreats away from the door.
“Where did you get the car?”
The clocks ticking, don’t have time for questions.
“A friend of mine lent it me.”
The lie brings a bitter taste to my mouth.
“What’s he called?”
I don’t like where this is leading. I read from the cab drivers I.D.
“Kenny.”
A slight smirk appears up the side of her mouth. Wrong answer.
“That’s strange… this car looks exactly like my boyfriends.”
What are the odds.
“He dropped me off here then went to meet someone at Riverside.”
It can’t be a coincidence.
“So tell me again…”
She pulls out a gun, the cab driver makes a run for it, leaving the keys behind.
“… where did you get the car?”
Legend of a Hero - Issue Eleven -
Detroit, Michigan 1992
The engine rattles like a loose bolt, forcing me to turn on the radio. I’ve never been a fan of music, too many rock stars with bad haircuts.
I switch it on and relieved, just a newscaster reporting today’s stock exchange.
A sharp pain erupts inside me, I rush my right hand to my ribs. All this excitement, made me forget about my broken body. I reach for the radio, searching for something to take my mind of the pain. My eyes leave the road for a second, when they return their gaze back above the dashboard an angel appears before me.
I slam on the breaks, all the while skidding to the left, onto the sidewalk. Car meets post whilst head meets window.
I black out for a second, seems longer.
Awake now, an angel asks me if I’m okay, she pulls me from the twisted metal. Golden hair, bright blue eyes... and white heavenly wings.
This must be what death feels like, if so, its been given a bad rep.
The blurred world turns into its sharp counter part, I’m not dead... even so, a woman with wings stands before me.
I climb to my feet, juggling my head with my hands. The cars done for, I almost was as well.
“Are you okay.”
Her voice is as soft as it is heavenly.
“You hit a post with your car.”
She’s clearly not one for stating the obvious.
“I’m fine, just a little shaken up.”
I lie. She smiles.
“Listen, I’d feel a whole lot better if you’d let me take you to the hospital.”
Her smile becomes sincere.
“Already been to one hospital this week, bunch of guys tried to kill me. Probably be safer out here.”
Despite her obvious dismay she maintains a healthy looking smile.
People who smile that much give me the creeps. Always think they’re hiding something dark behind it.
“Besides, I need to get somewhere... guess I’ll have to walk now.”
The grinning angel’s smile finally dissipates.
“Where? Maybe I could give you a lift.”
I’ve spent the duration of this conversation blocking the wings from my mind. Angels and Detroit don’t tend to last long in the same sentence.
“You mean carry me? As in fly?”
She smiles again, even giggles a little.
“No silly.”
She removes the wings from her back and places them on the bonnet of the car.
“I’m gonna hail a cab.”
So many strange things in the world, heroes that can fly, teleport and punch through walls... sometimes you forget normal people are still out there.
“Fake wings?”
She bites down on one, then crinkles her nose.
“Yep. It’s part of my costume.”
The angel points across the street to a place called “Kitty Katch”. Strip club, got a bad rep... used to get call outs every weekend for something or other.
“Its not something I’m proud of, but it pays the bills.”
She mumbles under her breath.
“...barely...”
She pulls out a coat from her bag, it rivals my own in length.
“So how about that taxi? It’d help me sleep better knowing you got where you wanted to go safely.”
I almost knock her down with my car and she’s the one who feels bad... go figure.
“Okay... but I’ll pay.”
A cab drives by like a message from god, except god doesn’t live here, and all the angels are strippers.
The angel turned human sticks out her thumb, the cab driver isn’t planning to stop... a gust of wind lifts her coat from the ground revealing sparkling flesh to the moonlit night... he changes his mind.
We head to the cab leaving the wrecked car behind, I’m almost inside when it hits me, my hats still in the car... I love that hat.
I turn to my companion.
“Hold on a second, my hats still in the car.”
Like clockwork the angel sings.
“Stay here, I’ll go get it.”
I could get used to this.
She heads to the car, all the while feeling a sense of familiarity.
The door is stiff, she moves away bits of broken glass and leans through the window. My hat it on the backseat, she climbs inside and takes it.
Her eyes are drawn to a cigarette burn underneath. She wonders how so many people manage to burn holes in car seats, how they manage to rip the side of the drivers seat with their heels, how they chip the dashboard accidently whilst trying to fasten the steering lock in place, how...
“Oh my god, this is Mike’s car!”
To be continued...
The engine rattles like a loose bolt, forcing me to turn on the radio. I’ve never been a fan of music, too many rock stars with bad haircuts.
I switch it on and relieved, just a newscaster reporting today’s stock exchange.
A sharp pain erupts inside me, I rush my right hand to my ribs. All this excitement, made me forget about my broken body. I reach for the radio, searching for something to take my mind of the pain. My eyes leave the road for a second, when they return their gaze back above the dashboard an angel appears before me.
I slam on the breaks, all the while skidding to the left, onto the sidewalk. Car meets post whilst head meets window.
I black out for a second, seems longer.
Awake now, an angel asks me if I’m okay, she pulls me from the twisted metal. Golden hair, bright blue eyes... and white heavenly wings.
This must be what death feels like, if so, its been given a bad rep.
The blurred world turns into its sharp counter part, I’m not dead... even so, a woman with wings stands before me.
I climb to my feet, juggling my head with my hands. The cars done for, I almost was as well.
“Are you okay.”
Her voice is as soft as it is heavenly.
“You hit a post with your car.”
She’s clearly not one for stating the obvious.
“I’m fine, just a little shaken up.”
I lie. She smiles.
“Listen, I’d feel a whole lot better if you’d let me take you to the hospital.”
Her smile becomes sincere.
“Already been to one hospital this week, bunch of guys tried to kill me. Probably be safer out here.”
Despite her obvious dismay she maintains a healthy looking smile.
People who smile that much give me the creeps. Always think they’re hiding something dark behind it.
“Besides, I need to get somewhere... guess I’ll have to walk now.”
The grinning angel’s smile finally dissipates.
“Where? Maybe I could give you a lift.”
I’ve spent the duration of this conversation blocking the wings from my mind. Angels and Detroit don’t tend to last long in the same sentence.
“You mean carry me? As in fly?”
She smiles again, even giggles a little.
“No silly.”
She removes the wings from her back and places them on the bonnet of the car.
“I’m gonna hail a cab.”
So many strange things in the world, heroes that can fly, teleport and punch through walls... sometimes you forget normal people are still out there.
“Fake wings?”
She bites down on one, then crinkles her nose.
“Yep. It’s part of my costume.”
The angel points across the street to a place called “Kitty Katch”. Strip club, got a bad rep... used to get call outs every weekend for something or other.
“Its not something I’m proud of, but it pays the bills.”
She mumbles under her breath.
“...barely...”
She pulls out a coat from her bag, it rivals my own in length.
“So how about that taxi? It’d help me sleep better knowing you got where you wanted to go safely.”
I almost knock her down with my car and she’s the one who feels bad... go figure.
“Okay... but I’ll pay.”
A cab drives by like a message from god, except god doesn’t live here, and all the angels are strippers.
The angel turned human sticks out her thumb, the cab driver isn’t planning to stop... a gust of wind lifts her coat from the ground revealing sparkling flesh to the moonlit night... he changes his mind.
We head to the cab leaving the wrecked car behind, I’m almost inside when it hits me, my hats still in the car... I love that hat.
I turn to my companion.
“Hold on a second, my hats still in the car.”
Like clockwork the angel sings.
“Stay here, I’ll go get it.”
I could get used to this.
She heads to the car, all the while feeling a sense of familiarity.
The door is stiff, she moves away bits of broken glass and leans through the window. My hat it on the backseat, she climbs inside and takes it.
Her eyes are drawn to a cigarette burn underneath. She wonders how so many people manage to burn holes in car seats, how they manage to rip the side of the drivers seat with their heels, how they chip the dashboard accidently whilst trying to fasten the steering lock in place, how...
“Oh my god, this is Mike’s car!”
To be continued...
Legend of a Hero - Issue Ten -
Detroit, Michigan 1992
Hank gets to work with the disk, passing through encrypted files and passwords like a fish through water.
I sit patiently, tapping my foot as I do.
His expression changes, horror and delight battle for a place on his face. He turns around, takes a deep breath and lets me have it.
“Where did you get this disk?”
I hesitate, not sure how much I want him to know.
“Why?”
He brings his hands to his chin, trying to look impressive in his bathrobe and bunny slippers.
“Because the contents of this disk are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
He turns to face the screen, moving to the side as he does.
“See for yourself.”
All I see are numbers and lines.
“Plans, dates, events... all cleverly disguised as mathematical equations.”
He’s speaking a language I don’t understand, but I let him continue.
“Something else here, a message for a Mr Hinderman. Its in German.”
Another foreign language, its my own fault, my own arrogance for assuming everything would be in English.
“Lucky for you I can speak seven different languages.”
Please tell me German is one of them.
“And German is one of them.”
Good boy.
“Let me see, movement of money, time to prepare... oh my.”
Whenever a grown man says something like “Oh My” A little piece of me dies inside.
“This doesn't look good... something about a device, North America and... oh no. Das Weltgericht”
He’s showing off.
“What does das Weltgericht mean?
I don’t have time for games.
“The Last Judgement.”
I stand up, I don’t like anything final... and something tells me this is as final as it gets.
“Do you have an address? Anything I can follow?”
He pauses then reacts.
“Yes, there’s an address.”
He writes it down for me.
“Listen, I know we’ve never seen eye to eye... but, well... should I be scared?”
I almost don’t reply... but he came through, I owe him.
“Get out of the city, and if you pass riverside, check for a lost lamb... bring him with you.”
He looks confused.
“You want me to drive to riverside? Pick up someone?”
He catches on quick.
“I stole the kids car, didn’t think anything of it at the time, but things appear to be more serious than I first expected.”
I don’t expect him to go, but at least I tried.
I go to the car, leaving the disk behind, I don’t need that now... I’m a detective, I follow leads... computers just aren’t my style.
To be continued...
Hank gets to work with the disk, passing through encrypted files and passwords like a fish through water.
I sit patiently, tapping my foot as I do.
His expression changes, horror and delight battle for a place on his face. He turns around, takes a deep breath and lets me have it.
“Where did you get this disk?”
I hesitate, not sure how much I want him to know.
“Why?”
He brings his hands to his chin, trying to look impressive in his bathrobe and bunny slippers.
“Because the contents of this disk are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
He turns to face the screen, moving to the side as he does.
“See for yourself.”
All I see are numbers and lines.
“Plans, dates, events... all cleverly disguised as mathematical equations.”
He’s speaking a language I don’t understand, but I let him continue.
“Something else here, a message for a Mr Hinderman. Its in German.”
Another foreign language, its my own fault, my own arrogance for assuming everything would be in English.
“Lucky for you I can speak seven different languages.”
Please tell me German is one of them.
“And German is one of them.”
Good boy.
“Let me see, movement of money, time to prepare... oh my.”
Whenever a grown man says something like “Oh My” A little piece of me dies inside.
“This doesn't look good... something about a device, North America and... oh no. Das Weltgericht”
He’s showing off.
“What does das Weltgericht mean?
I don’t have time for games.
“The Last Judgement.”
I stand up, I don’t like anything final... and something tells me this is as final as it gets.
“Do you have an address? Anything I can follow?”
He pauses then reacts.
“Yes, there’s an address.”
He writes it down for me.
“Listen, I know we’ve never seen eye to eye... but, well... should I be scared?”
I almost don’t reply... but he came through, I owe him.
“Get out of the city, and if you pass riverside, check for a lost lamb... bring him with you.”
He looks confused.
“You want me to drive to riverside? Pick up someone?”
He catches on quick.
“I stole the kids car, didn’t think anything of it at the time, but things appear to be more serious than I first expected.”
I don’t expect him to go, but at least I tried.
I go to the car, leaving the disk behind, I don’t need that now... I’m a detective, I follow leads... computers just aren’t my style.
To be continued...
Legend of a Hero - Issue Nine -
Detroit, Michigan 1992
I make the heater in the car do its job, and whilst it blows hot air it reminds me of how alike we both are. I try to block out the injuries I’ve sustained over the last few days, but each attempt only brings new bruises to my attention.
I check the disk, still intact, running out of ideas… computers just aren’t my thing. Jake was my lifeline, the only one worth a damn in this black pit of excuses.
A light bulb illuminates above my head in comical fashion. I have an idea, sometimes it’s the simplest thoughts that lead to success.
I used to bust gang-bangers down on Brightmoor, it was a while ago, before I joined homicide, but there was a guy.
His name was Hank Fredrickson. He’d been caught in a cross fire between two rival gangs, I saved him… found an entire stash of computer equipment and chemicals in the process… we confiscated them and left with our heads held high. Two weeks later his neighborhood almost destroyed itself.
Hank said our presence caused the tension, maybe he was right… but either way… he owes me.
And a man like Hank doesn’t shy away from illegal computer equipment easily.
I head to his house and knock on the door, the house isn’t much to look at. Reminds me of an old shack from the deep south era. He answers the door, half asleep and obviously not safety conscience.
It takes him a few seconds to adjust to the light, a few more to realize its me. I bust in before he can lock me out. Confusion fills the room, he panics, assumes the worst. I reassure him.
“Relax Hank, I just need a favor.”
He pretends to relax, reaching for a paper weight as he does.
“I’ve got a disk, need someone to tell me what’s on it… who’s on it.”
His grip on the glass weight dissipates.
“You’re not here to take me in?”
His concerns are noted.
“Last time you were here you saved my life… then sent me away for five years.”
I don’t need reminding, I was there.
“If I read this disk, you’ll leave… no questions asked.”
He catches on quick.
“Hank, if you tell me what’s on this disk, I'll give you a medal.”
He’s not impressed.
“You didn’t answer my question… will you leave me alone.”
He wants an answer, I give it to him… don’t have time for games.
“Yes, come rain nor shine, you’ll never see me again.”
His vacant expression turns into an impressed smile.
“Okay then, lets have a look at this disk.”
I hand the disk over, feeling closer to the truth as I do… Hank’s not the most trustworthy person in the world… but if you give a condemned man a way out… he’s sure to take it.
To be continued…
I make the heater in the car do its job, and whilst it blows hot air it reminds me of how alike we both are. I try to block out the injuries I’ve sustained over the last few days, but each attempt only brings new bruises to my attention.
I check the disk, still intact, running out of ideas… computers just aren’t my thing. Jake was my lifeline, the only one worth a damn in this black pit of excuses.
A light bulb illuminates above my head in comical fashion. I have an idea, sometimes it’s the simplest thoughts that lead to success.
I used to bust gang-bangers down on Brightmoor, it was a while ago, before I joined homicide, but there was a guy.
His name was Hank Fredrickson. He’d been caught in a cross fire between two rival gangs, I saved him… found an entire stash of computer equipment and chemicals in the process… we confiscated them and left with our heads held high. Two weeks later his neighborhood almost destroyed itself.
Hank said our presence caused the tension, maybe he was right… but either way… he owes me.
And a man like Hank doesn’t shy away from illegal computer equipment easily.
I head to his house and knock on the door, the house isn’t much to look at. Reminds me of an old shack from the deep south era. He answers the door, half asleep and obviously not safety conscience.
It takes him a few seconds to adjust to the light, a few more to realize its me. I bust in before he can lock me out. Confusion fills the room, he panics, assumes the worst. I reassure him.
“Relax Hank, I just need a favor.”
He pretends to relax, reaching for a paper weight as he does.
“I’ve got a disk, need someone to tell me what’s on it… who’s on it.”
His grip on the glass weight dissipates.
“You’re not here to take me in?”
His concerns are noted.
“Last time you were here you saved my life… then sent me away for five years.”
I don’t need reminding, I was there.
“If I read this disk, you’ll leave… no questions asked.”
He catches on quick.
“Hank, if you tell me what’s on this disk, I'll give you a medal.”
He’s not impressed.
“You didn’t answer my question… will you leave me alone.”
He wants an answer, I give it to him… don’t have time for games.
“Yes, come rain nor shine, you’ll never see me again.”
His vacant expression turns into an impressed smile.
“Okay then, lets have a look at this disk.”
I hand the disk over, feeling closer to the truth as I do… Hank’s not the most trustworthy person in the world… but if you give a condemned man a way out… he’s sure to take it.
To be continued…
Legend of a Hero - Issue Eight -
Detroit, Michigan 1992
The clock strikes seven as I approach a familiar setting. I used to come here all the time, before the clouds above me went black and I lost myself to the city.
This is Jake Malone’s house, an old friend, we used to be partners, solved a lot of cases together, helped a lot of good people… but we went too far, I went to far.
His house used to echo with children’s laughter, used to be a happy place. But now the welcome mat looks more like a no-entry sign.
I walk up to the door and knock, inside a figure moves, skulking towards the door, feet shuffling along a splintered floor.
The shadow stops just before the door, hovering like a fly above garbage.
“Jake… its me.”
He doesn’t respond.
“Its been a while old friend.”
Inside something breaks, I feel rage blow past the door.
“I need your help, something big is happening.”
He breaks the silence.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, coming here after what you did.”
His memory is as good as ever.
“Look Jake, what happened… I never would’ve wanted…”
He cuts me short.
“Stop, just stop.”
A thunderstorm approaches.
“It was your obsession, I followed, like a good friend… and destroyed everything I ever loved.”
He’s right, I pushed to hard for to long. I knew the risks, so did he… but Jess, little Tommy… they didn’t.
“I haven’t seen my son for five years, and Jess… she cut me out. I’ve lost everything.”
Words cut deep.
“Please Jake. I can’t do this alone…”
The door opens, a friend turned beast is revealed.
“That’s the same line you gave me five years ago.”
He’s right, I feel like a fraud.
“You told me it would be okay, you promised Jess everything was fine.”
His face is a demon, flames spit from his mouth.
“Then those men came round to the house, took her… almost killed them both. Do you remember?”
Like it was yesterday.
“I almost lost them, because of you. And then one day I come home and they’re gone.”
He looks for something to break, all he has is me.
He lays into me, unleashing his fury… I let him.
“They left because of you, everything has to be about you doesn’t it.”
My already broken body won’t last long, but still I let him continue.
He runs out of steam and crawls against the wall. I gather myself and sit opposite, facing him, blood and all.
“Why did you come back? Why do you always come back?”
I can’t answer him, no words will help console him.
“You’ve squeezed me dry, I have nothing left to give.”
He gets to his feet and heads inside, I don’t follow, this was a bad idea. I pull myself up and head back to the car, turning around to watch him close the door.
Why do I come back? Why do I always come back?
To be continued…
The clock strikes seven as I approach a familiar setting. I used to come here all the time, before the clouds above me went black and I lost myself to the city.
This is Jake Malone’s house, an old friend, we used to be partners, solved a lot of cases together, helped a lot of good people… but we went too far, I went to far.
His house used to echo with children’s laughter, used to be a happy place. But now the welcome mat looks more like a no-entry sign.
I walk up to the door and knock, inside a figure moves, skulking towards the door, feet shuffling along a splintered floor.
The shadow stops just before the door, hovering like a fly above garbage.
“Jake… its me.”
He doesn’t respond.
“Its been a while old friend.”
Inside something breaks, I feel rage blow past the door.
“I need your help, something big is happening.”
He breaks the silence.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, coming here after what you did.”
His memory is as good as ever.
“Look Jake, what happened… I never would’ve wanted…”
He cuts me short.
“Stop, just stop.”
A thunderstorm approaches.
“It was your obsession, I followed, like a good friend… and destroyed everything I ever loved.”
He’s right, I pushed to hard for to long. I knew the risks, so did he… but Jess, little Tommy… they didn’t.
“I haven’t seen my son for five years, and Jess… she cut me out. I’ve lost everything.”
Words cut deep.
“Please Jake. I can’t do this alone…”
The door opens, a friend turned beast is revealed.
“That’s the same line you gave me five years ago.”
He’s right, I feel like a fraud.
“You told me it would be okay, you promised Jess everything was fine.”
His face is a demon, flames spit from his mouth.
“Then those men came round to the house, took her… almost killed them both. Do you remember?”
Like it was yesterday.
“I almost lost them, because of you. And then one day I come home and they’re gone.”
He looks for something to break, all he has is me.
He lays into me, unleashing his fury… I let him.
“They left because of you, everything has to be about you doesn’t it.”
My already broken body won’t last long, but still I let him continue.
He runs out of steam and crawls against the wall. I gather myself and sit opposite, facing him, blood and all.
“Why did you come back? Why do you always come back?”
I can’t answer him, no words will help console him.
“You’ve squeezed me dry, I have nothing left to give.”
He gets to his feet and heads inside, I don’t follow, this was a bad idea. I pull myself up and head back to the car, turning around to watch him close the door.
Why do I come back? Why do I always come back?
To be continued…
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