Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Vendetta Theory ❯ Chapter 3

 

The ground fell to pieces below him like jigsaw puzzle being driven off of a table. The carnage was impossible to fully bring to words. The worst tragedies are the ones which cannot be brought into words, disasters that cannot, helplessly, be expressed to those who didn't witness it. The firemen had long stopped trying to fight the fire and were now working fervently to contain it. The apartment complex was a twisted mess of charred metal, stone, dirt, mangled bodies of the severely burned and that monster inferno. The boy could not comprehend that unquenchable thirst for destruction that fire brought upon everything it touched. A piece of framework let out a metallic shriek as it twisted away from the wreckage and fell to the ground with a clatter. Dark smoke put a blurry illusion on the complex the air tingled from the immense heat. Explosions rattled the ground every so often as electronics reacted to the fire. Deep trenches were shoveled to try and contain the The boy raced to the nearest fireman and demanded, “Where are the survivors? My mother was in there!”

 

The man took a deep breath and turned his sweaty, hardened face to the boy's.

 

“There weren't any survivors kid. As far as we know, everyone in this complex died at the impact of the blast. I'm really sorry I had to break it to you.”

 

“I know who did… I know who did this! We can turn them in! Bring justice to those responsible!”

 

“Oh, we know too kid. Firefighters aren't low watt bulbs, but we can't challenge the Government. That's career suicide. It was their decision that this place be blown up. I`m sure they had a good reason. Besides they do pay our salaries.” He gestured to himself and the other firemen.

 

“You all care more about your jobs then stopping corruption?”

 

“We have family`s to support kid. If we lose our job's…” He mimed an explosion with his hands

 

“Yes an explosion like what happened here! I had a family too till it was taken away from me by damned crooked fools! Who knows? Maybe it happens to you next.” The boy pointed at one man. “Or you.” He gestured to another “We can't just stand by and watch this happen. Can we! Can we?” He pleaded, looking from face to face. They all shook their heads no in remorse. He twitched and gnashed his teeth in frustration.

 

Then the boy did what seemed most sensible to him at the time. It was time to take matters into his own hands. He didn't need any help! Just a goal and two legs beneath him.

 

He signaled waving his hand in the air. “Taxi! Yeah, yeah I'm doing great. Central Government Center Plaza. You get there in less than three minutes I'll pay you double. Why? I didn`t think they pay you guys to make small talk! All right! I have an appointment, okay? You might even hear about it on tonight's news!” He climbed in the cab and slammed the door shut.

 

“I thought it was supposed to be double!” The taxi driver screamed examining the bills in his hand.

 

“My watch had 3:01.” The boy said simply. Every obscenity he ever heard (and some he hadn't) was thrown at his retreating back. The driver finished by flipping the boy off and driving off tires screeching to find someone else to transfer around town.

 

He opened the large doors and strode down a hallway monitored by many surveillance cameras. Don't let them get a clear look at your face, keep your head moving, his appearance was different though, he thought. His hair was matted against his face from the rain. Bruises disguised his face. A jacket he had borrowed from the firemen kept his clothes hid. He walked through a sliding door into a lobby like area. Cushioned seats were set up. There was one desk with one of the city's police officers on duty.

 

He was young only a few years older then the boy as the matter of fact. A slightly chubby face was highlighted by sparkling black eyes and a military cut. The boy quickly scanned him and made a few observations. His gun was sprawled out of his holster and on the desk in front of him, his walkie-talkie lay off at his side, and he hadn't yet noticed his presence. The computer monitor showed the man was halfway through a game of solitaire. He found interesting the top card in his draw was a king of hearts. The infamous `Suicide King'.

 

“Hmm.” The boy exclaimed aloud.

 

“What was that now?” The officer looked up and snapped out of his stupor. “Oh sorry! Didn't notice you there. Simply dreadful weather outside, is it not?” The boy grunted affirmative. “Well then, I assume you have your papers!”

 

“My, what?” The boy said stupidly.

 

“You know, your papers. Your permission slips.” The boy continued to look at him stupidly. The Guard sighed. “The documents which allow you into our building.” His tone seemed quizzical now as though he were suspicious of the boys presence.

 

“Oh, those papers! I have them here in my coat pocket. Let me fish them out.” He fumbled around in his coat hoping the officer bought his story.

 

Just then the phone rang saving the boy from his predicament momentarily. The officer looked at the boy then at the phone he slowly lifted the phone up off the receiver while watching the boy out of the corner of his eye. He muttered into the phone periodically glancing warily over to where the boy was pretending to search himself for documentation. He began to inch toward where the man sat believing a gut instinct that something about the conversation involved him. A fax whirred out of the machine. It was a description coupled with his picture! The man did a double-take at the youth in front of him his eyes grew wide. Suddenly he hurled the phone down and scrambled for his gun. Except it was no longer there. The boy held the handgun tightly clenched in both his hands, the muzzle was pointed dangerously at the man's chubby forehead.

 

“Come on get up!” The boy ordered. “Leave your walkie talkie there! Empty your belt and pockets!” He did as ordered. Soon a walkie-talkie, a can of pepper spray, an extra clip of ammunition, a flashlight, a pen, his pager, an I.D. card, and a small charm rested on the table. The boy picked up the card and ammo thinking he'd need it. As he was examining the pile of gear on the table the officer abruptly broke away, racing for the building's fire alarm.

 

“Hey stop!” The man continued to run only 20 feet from the alarm “I said stop, you stupid bastard!” Still he rushed onward. The boy cursed and raised his gun. 1...2...3... Click! A gunshot rang out through the lobby the man stumbled forward his leg bleeding profusely. His momentum combined with the abrupt loss of motion in his right leg threw him off balance. He toppled to the ceramic floor with a crack still 4 feet from the alarm. The boy slipped the gun back into his jacket and was about to walk to better secure the wounded officer when the man lunged ahead and pulled down the lever. Ceiling sprinklers went off drenching the room in water. A piercing alarm rang out through the building.

 

“You stupid, son of a. Arrghhhh!” The boy screamed in frustration and shot him again, this time in the back of his chest. The man slumped over dead. The boy was breathing heavily, his hands rested on his knee's.

 

“Why does something-always-have-to-go-wrong!” He rattled off a string curses in a long succession. He walked over and pushed the lever upwards to its original resting place silencing the hellish noise and shutting off the water. He dragged the corpse of the unfortunate security guard into a nearby supply closet.

 

Done venting he proceeded irately towards the double elevators. He slid the card lifted from the officer into the slot the light switched from red to green confirming the action. He pressed the up button and the great metallic doors opened with a hiss and closed slowly and silently.