Detroit, Michigan 1992
My head pulses like a car alarm, reminding me how I came to be here.
My bonds are tight, can’t break free. I spent four years teaching myself how to pick locks, it never occurred to me that I’d need to escape rope... Houdini rolls in his grave.
My self pity is quickly broken by two partially shadowed figures, one enters with intent, the other a bat. The weapons a prop, he lays in at a table next to me. The other puts his face into mine and looks me in the eyes.
“Who are you?”
His breath smells like garbage in a heat wave.
“I’ll ask you again…”
The second stooge picks up the bat.
“… who are you?”
I’ve seen this dance before, interrogation by intimidation, its nothing new. I don’t say anything, my badge is in my pocket, I’m not gonna do their work for them.
Babe Ruth moves behind me, bat in hand. This is really gonna hurt.
The door swings open, another man enters, red faced and out of breath.
“Mr Hinderman sir, I’m sorry…”
So this is Hinderman.
“… Mr Zerstoiten is here.”
Things just keep getting better.
The walking garbage truck moves towards the door, motioning to the man behind me as he does.
Once the door closes my shadow moves to the front, smiling all the while.
“Looks like its just you and me…”
This guy must be some sort of genius.
“… and just so you know…”
He puts his face in mine.
“… I’m not gonna ask any questions…”
I move my head as far back as it can go.
“… I’m just gonna make you bleed.”
I drive my head forward like a jackhammer. The familiar sound of bone through flesh echoes throughout my skull, he falls to the ground, dropping the bat as he does… you’re out.
I feel good about myself for about three seconds, until I realize I’m still securely tied to a chair. I flail wildly, trying desperately to get free, then it hits me… I crash to the floor like a bat out of hell, the chair breaks under my weight. I climb to my feet, removing the last pieces of rope as I do.
The man on the floor stirs, I contemplate using the bat… I let him be, never was much of a ball player.
The door isn’t locked, the hallway is empty, the stairway is a ghost.
Albert Zerstoiten is more ego than man, I head to the top floor, through the hallway and towards the door with Mr D.Hinderman stenciled across.
Once at the door my actions are confirmed. Voices raise, I half expect another gun to go off, I place my ear to the door, cliché I know but I didn’t have a glass cup handy.
“Is everything in place.”
German accent.
“Yes Mr Zerstoiten, the players are in place.”
Hinderman, sniveling weasel.
“Good, I don’t intend to fail this time, send word Doctor Destroyer is h…”
The ground creaks beneath me. I curse myself silently under my breath.
Footsteps move towards the door, gathering pace as they approach. I make a hasty retreat, heading for the stairway. A man blocks my path, I run through him, leaving my autograph as I do. Bullets chase me down the corridor, one bites me on the leg, have to get out quick.
I turn into an office, a chair catches my eye, I use it to open the window. The glass shatters into the night sky whilst the chair travels to earth… I follow.
My coat catches the wind, and for a moment I feel like I can fly, but I’m quickly brought back down to earth.
My momentum carries me towards a neighboring building, close enough to reach out and grab the ledge. My shoulder pops, my other arm takes the weight, pulling me up in the process.
I don’t have time to worry about the shoulder, need to get off this roof. I head for the fire escape and traverse downwards all the while dodging bullets from the window I so gracefully leaped from.
Upon reaching the street I head east, away from the building that tried so desperately to kill me, not noticing the white lights of a man made death trap heading my way.
… darkness…
… an empty feeling overwhelms me, I sink in an ocean of black tar under dark skies...
To be continued…
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