Seg - Issue 8: Taking my Time

Taking my time

I didn’t have time for this. Problem was, I didn’t know how to drive stick, and if was going to get Swartz out of here in hurry, I was going to need to learn how to work his car.

I begged, “Okay, so I just drop the shift down, right?”

Swartz just mumbled nonsense, half conscious half asleep. I turned back to the steering wheel. He continued groaning from the back seat, but that was probably because he was uncomfortably positioned on top of all the crap he keeps back there.

“Hang on man; we’re going to get you somewhere safe. Shit. As if someone tried to blow up the mall? These people are serious.”

I drove in first gear. The car didn’t sound too good, but it didn’t matter. I had considered taking him to the hospital, but then I remembered the man in the “H” hat, was the same guy I saw on the plane. It was clear to me now that these people, whoever they were, had found me on a plane and Swartz in a Kitchener mall; they were well connected, and they knew where and how to find us. We needed a safe house; some place quiet so I could collect myself. We turned onto Grand River Boulevard, just a few blocks from my folks' place; but I couldn’t risk going there. My family had some friends down the street and they were in Florida for a few weeks; perfect. We pulled in. Stealing the tarp off their hitch trailer, I threw it over the white car, not before dragging Swartz out onto the porch; he wasn’t making any noises, was that bad? I punched out the glass on the door. Rushing in, I carried Swartz to the couch, plopping him down and I sat on the arm chair across from him. I waited. I thought. We needed a plan, but who could I trust. Taves, of course Taves. I grabbed the phone, and made the call.

“He’s not picking up!” I shouted as if someone was listening. “That’s not like him; he always has his phone on. Something’s wrong.”

Blood was staining the Parson’s couch. Shit. It was Swartz; his shirt was damp with blood. I lifted it up to see the damage; oddly enough, it wasn’t that bad, serious bruising, and a small gash. But nothing he couldn't handle, but then why is he out cold? His mouth was bloody, but not from any wound, it was more like he coughed it up. Now that is bad, real bad. “He’s probably got internal damage or something,” I thought. Need to find Taves. I called his uncles house, hoping Taves had just forgot to turn on his cell phone. His uncle answered and told me Taves had just left for the park.

“The park? Who does that?” I said. His uncle just laughed, but I was serious. I was also was confused, and knew a few jokes would be in order upon finding Greg.

I got Swartz a blanket, but it didn’t seem to help. I poured him some water, and left on the table. Locking the door behind me, I pulled back the tarp; “time for another shot at standard,” I thought. Greg’s uncle said he was at Victoria park; I knew where that was, sort of, so I drove there, fast. I took River road and then hopped on Victoria, I was moving too fast now; I hoped no cops would see me. Stopping smoothly was not something I had the hang of yet. I pulled down the drive way, entering a park parking lot, I parked the car there and waited a second. But that’s when it hit me. Hard.

Swartz’s car flipped upside down with me still in it. The crashing mangled vehicle was heaped on top of me; I was confused and scared, but unharmed. Staring out from the broken window, I noticed huge tires. It must have been a Hummer or something, because its engine was still running, and the driver got out, seeming fine. I could hear him talking to someone on a phone.

“We ID'ed him as we pulled in the parkway. Seguin. I know; we were pretty surprised too. Tell Amy, we finished her job.” The stranger laughed as he closed his cell phone.

All I could see were feet. Another person got out of the car, this guy was wearing army boots. He hustled quickly and before I knew it, he was gone, but where was he going? I rustled and shuffled, with great effort I managed to free myself from the seat. The collapsed metal had torn my shirt, and the struggle to free my legs, had left me with no shoes. But now free, I moved on to the fun part.
I was Alastor now; no weapon could harm me and no enemy was too great. I was the avenger; born of redemption’s will, with a clear conscience and a pure soul, the gods had sent me back, not as mere man, but as the impenetrable force for good. This man on the phone, who felt that casually killing an innocent man was fair game, was about receive a rude awakening.

“Hello Walter. You look like a Walter, mostly cause you're bald. You owe me a new pair of Converse.”

“Holy Shit! No way!”

“Where’s your friend?”

The man opened fire with his pistol. The bullets dropped before me after crashing into my chest; I was moved back a bit by the force, but stood there, resolved.

“I repeat, where’s your friend?”

He shot several more bullets; one even hitting my nose, but I kept coming. As the shots ringed out threw the park, I gained my ground, and grabbing him by his shirt; I forced punch after punch into his face. I did this until he fell to the ground, bloodied, unconscious, and proving of little help. “The other guy’s after Taves” I uttered. I needed to get to him before they did.

I ran with tremendous speed through the park, I didn’t get tired; I never get tired. My shirt was in shreds, so I ripped it off, and couldn’t help but smirk; feeling like Jean Claude Van Dame. Noticeably, I was in shape. One better, I was a bit ripped. “What the hell happened to me?” Swimming for 32 hours straight has that effect I suppose; at least when muscle tissue has a constant source of nutrition. People in the park were starring at me with baffled expression. I was a wild man, shirtless, shoeless, and moving like a lion on the hunt. I finally caught a sign of hope. And there he was, Taves, sitting on park bench about 40 meters away. But he wasn’t alone.

“Taves? WTF?”

He was with a girl. Well, looks like Taves has been making some progress outside of the superhero arena.

“Shit. He’s on a date.”

I can’t very well run up to, half naked, shouting that an army stooge is on the hunt. That’s ridicules. At the same time, I have little choice in the matter. I walked now, briskly. Trying to blend in as well I could. Passing a couple sitting on another bench near the swing set, I grabbed one of their coats without them noticing. Of course, it was the girls coat. And so here I was, marching up to my good friend, who’s on a date, wearing a women’s dress coat. But that’s when I saw him. Those boats, I know them. It was the army guy, but he was wearing a black trench coat now, and walking slowly from the opposite direction, he was approaching Taves from the rear, he had something under his coat; a gun? A knife? I didn’t know. No time to waste, I ran, full-tilt, like a madman. At one point, I was even yelling. I came up on the bench from the front. Taves saw me now, standing, as if I were the threat, but then he recongnized me.

“Ryan, what are you doing man?”

“Down now, hurry!”

Taves’ eyes went wide, he dropped to the ground taking his girl with him; I leaped over the bench with great hight and speed. I collided with the stooge, dropping him to the ground. He was strong, and we struggled for a few moments. When we reached our feet, the real fight began. He laughed at me. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because I was half his size, or maybe it was because I was wearing a women’s jacket, any of the above would work really. He drew his dagger; my goodness, it was big, but I wasn’t really afraid. In my head, the fight was won the moment I stopped him from getting the jump on Taves. The stooge lunged at me, jabbing me in the chest. It did nothing. He was confused.

“You’re one them aren’t you?” He exclaimed.

I chuckled, “Not exactly, I’m something different.”

He was skilled, I’ll give him that, and he repeatedly delivered punches and kicks with a clear indication of training. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I kept up, being that pain was not there to distract me. After about a minute of struggle, I had landed two or three punches, he was bleeding a bit, but was fine. In a moment, without warning, the man flew up in the air with a blaze of light, now over 50 feet above me, he fell to the ground. He was out cold, maybe even suffering a few broken bones as a result. I turned to Taves.

“Show off.” I joked.

“Sorry, but it was taking too long. Man, how’d you take that knife, and where’s your shirt and shoes? Is that a women’s coat you’re wearing?”

I laughed, “It’s a really long story, for which we haven’t the time. It’s Swartz, he needs help and fast.”

I started to run, and stopped when I noticed that Taves was not following. I came back in a hurry.

“I know none of this makes sense, but it will soon, right now, we need you Taves; this assassin wasn’t the first and he won’t be the last. We gotta go, so say your goodbyes. I’m sorry.”

“Give me minute.” Taves looked pretty upset.

I tried to ease the tension. “By the way, I’m Alastor, nice to meet you; nicely done Taves, she’s hot.” I laughed. They didn’t. An ackward pause ensued. Okay, so I wasn’t good with the whole sentinmental scene. It was time to make my exit, “I’m gonna to go.”

And it was definitely time to go. Taves showed me where he parked, and I ran to the car, and gave them a moment alone. Who knows how long we’ll be gone for, in hidding; like soldiers shipping off to war, everything is up in the air. Taves caught up, and the two of us set off, hoping to find a solution to this new threat, and with any luck, find Swartz some medical attention.

Taves paused, “What about Lyle?”

“Who?”