Thursday, August 13, 2015
Part Two--Dispatches from the Twilight War
(Author's note: Here is the link to part one.)
Because of the nearby and constantly busy interstate the diner was crowded despite the ungodly early morning hour so Jack didn't want to pull out his pistol. Luckily, Carol's back was facing her stalker so this Joaquin Weiss didn't immediately notice her as he scanned everyone in the dining area. This allowed Jack to tell Carol to carefully stand up without exposing her face and then maneuver her towards a rear exit.
“Lean heavily on me like you're tired or sick,” he whispered to Carol. A further piece of luck had the diner's restrooms situated down a short hall that had a ninety-degree turn with two other doors, one an emergency exit and the other leading to a store room with yet another door leading outside. That is where Jack and Carol's luck ran out. Both had door latches with automatic alarms that would sound if a key wasn't used to deactivate them first. And as expected, there was never an employee around when you desperately needed one.
Stymied for a moment not wanting to trigger either alarm, Jack tried to look casually around the corner to find out what Joaquin was doing. Sure enough, he was coming straight towards them with only a couple of waitresses and customers walking around to slow him down. For a second Jack was overwhelmed with the utter certainty that this was a very bad man and that if Carol fell into her hands a immense amount of poop would massively impact a huge fan affecting far more people than seemed believable.
“He's coming towards us, right,” Carol said leaning up again the wall trembling.
“Yeah,” Jack said ignoring the question as to how Joaquin found them in the first place,” but I don't want to go through those doors just yet. He's probably got backup covering every exit. I want to give his people something else to think about for a few seconds.”
Once clear of other people Joaquin's pace picked up and he stepped into the short, straight segment of the hallway. Jack then suddenly turned the corner and fired two rounds into their pursuer's chest then one into his right leg just above the kneecap. A head shot would have been ideal but somehow Jack knew their stalker's reflexes wouldn't have allowed him to raise his weapon up enough to cleanly fire off the round. Jack settled for possibly fatal chest wounds and if that didn't work the slug going through Joaquin's leg would prevent him from running for a good while.
Both doors offering escape for Carol and Jack were the heavily reinforced type made of steel and it was Jack's hope that whoever was working with Joaquin would dash to the front entrance to find out what had happened instead of trying to beat down a huge chunk of metal. After the shots, the diner itself dissolved into a state of chaos with patrons running for the most obvious door. Carol herself was shaking life a leaf ready to bolt with only Jack's firmly holding onto her arm preventing a premature exit.
Glancing down at Joaquin, Jack saw the man-thing writhing in pain on the floor with blood seeping around his wounds. But one thing was clear, it wasn't dying, if anything he was trying to stand up and probably would have if his right knee and upper leg was in anyway capable.
“One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi...now!” Jack yelled, pushing Carol towards the rear stockroom door.
After busting through the door the only thing that greeted them was the cold early morning air and just a hint of light coming from the eastern horizon.
Old habit had Jack park his Mustang in the rear of the diner parking lot, and it served him well allowing the two quick access to the car. Unfortunately a clean getaway wasn't possible, as Jack opened the driver's side door he heard the pounding of footsteps coming towards him. Working only on years of training and instinct he turned, raised his pistol, and fired at the person coming towards them. Jack had time to register the sight of his round going through the skull of a hulking blond, Nordic type throwing him backward. The massive creature fell to the ground and it was immediately clear that at least he would never get up again.
“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Carol asked as Jack quickly settled into the driver's seat, started the car, and drove away.
“I'm former FBI, didn't you see that mentioned on my phone book listing?” Jack said while accelerating out of the parking lot and towards the interstate.
Carol didn't answer because she had turned around in the passenger seat and was trying to see if anyone was following them. “How did they find me? Carol asked more to herself than Jack but the question was valid.
“You said your first encounter with Joaquin was on the hospital floor you worked and then at the grocery store you shopped? Jack asked back. “Any chance he tagged you with some sort of tracking device, like dropping something in your pocketbook?”
Carol turned around in the seat and looked back at Jack as if he said the most astonishing thing imaginable. “When I introduced myself I first put my food next my pocketbook.” She went silent after that staring off into the space realizing how she had exposed herself.
Jack could tell she was starting to go into shock. “Hey, stay with me now!” He said reaching over and grabbing her shoulder. “I'm assuming we've skipped the interview part and that you have decided to hire me.”
Carol turned to look at him without saying anything, she was a totally lost soul who understood she had become involved in something she couldn't begin to comprehend. “What are we going to do? I have no money beyond what I have with me, how am I going to pay you?”
Jack just grimaced as he began to slow down the car. “First thing, and you're probably not going to like this, we have to lose the pocketbook and everything in it except you identification and pictures of your family. As for the second question, that Joaquin has seen me, I'm just as involved in whatever this is as you, so money is not an issue now.”
After slowing down, Jack stopped the car on the side of the interstate pleased that for the moment traffic was non existent. Carol willingly handed over the pocketbook except for the items he said she could keep. He quickly left the car and threw the purse off into an empty field and was back in the car and heading south again in less than a minute.
“Where are we going now?” Carol asked more than a little nervous now after realizing that while people were apparently out to capture or kill her, she now was depending on a complete stranger for her safety and to help find the answers as to why this was happening.
“I have a friend of a friend who owns a cabin high in the mountains, it's about as far off the grid it can be and still have power. We'll be safe there for at least a few days. From there we will begin to play forty questions to try and find out why this is going on. Needless to say you'll have to be patient and completely honest with everything I ask you because I will be getting very personal.”
Carol looked over at Jack and nodded, it was the first time she really examined the man who had already done so much for her. He appeared to be in his mid-forties and could best be described as your average American male. Her best guess was that he was a few inches over six-feet with sandy blond hair that was beginning to thin. And while he was obviously fit, it was clear middle-age was slowly encroaching on him. It was slightly disconcerted to Carol that her possible savior didn't readily fit the mold of the standard movie action hero.
“You said you're former FBI, tell me why you left the bureau.” Carol asked not sure she wanted him to answer honestly.
“Nothing really spectacular or scandalous,” Jack said, “my marriage went to hell and not long after that I was reassigned to a department that investigated white collar crime. The only thing more boring and depressing than listening to continuous wiretaps of Wall Street bastards bragging about the super model they're about to bang or the newest yacht they've purchased is how they get away with robbing billions from the government or small-time investors. In that line of work you quickly realize most of those expensively dressed and styled leeches don't view anyone but their own kind as human beings deserving of respect. To them the middle and working classes are at best a resource like iron, timber, or any other commodity to be used then tossed away.”
“So you became a private investigator?” Carol said more to herself than Jack, subconsciously happy that his departure wasn't for some moral failing or corruption. Seconds later Carol leans over towards the passenger side car door resting her head on the window and falls fast asleep.
Jack looked over at Carol and almost decided to wake her back up, but didn't. For the briefest moment he actually considered dropping Carol off at some bus stop leaving to her to her own devices. Whatever was going on here was totally out of his league. His usual cases involved divorces stained in bad blood, running surveillance on possible corrupt business partners, insurance fraud, child custody, and the occasional missing person. He had no idea how to deal with indestructible, human-looking monsters that for some reason wanted to capture a suburban housewife and mother.
While in the FBI, Jack had heard rumors of two agents who specialized in bizarre cases but he never believed the incredible stories. But deep down he knew it was impossible for him to abandon Carol, despite her outwardly placid suburban demeanor there was something about her that didn't make sense. More to the point, surreal and quite dangerous events were going on behind the scenes of normal life and people in power were apparently doing their best to hide it from a distracted and incurious population. If one thing constantly drove Jack, it was mysteries and one of the biggest had landed firmly in his lap.