One Day, The Bottom A Go Drop Out.

Posted: October 13, 2012 in Allosaurus, sci fi
Tags: , , , , , , ,

At long last, here’s part thirteen of Allosaurus. Part twelve is here. Part one is here. Thank you. 

He was distracted, lost in thought. So the two – by – four to the back of the head caught him by surprise. It upset his balance, and he fell from the ledge.

Fourteen stories down.

Dammit, he thought. This is gonna hurt a little.

Palmetto Bug Man had only a second to adjust his positioning before he hit. He just barely avoided the Lexus. As it was, the crash shook the ground enough so that the car’s alarm went off. Slowly, gingerly, he sat up, shaking the impact dust away.

Now, I’m pissed. He wasn’t powerful enough anymore to clear fourteen floors in one leap.

Eight, then another six.

It had only been a year or so ago when he could’ve easily done twenty stories. When his senses were so acute he  could hear a gnat fart. When two – by – fours didn’t hurt so bad. Man, I never thought I’d get so … old! He scanned the roof top, squinting. Squinting? Dammit all to hell! 

He finally found them: a couple of bums. They appeared to be stealing the copper tubing from an a/c unit. How much could they possibly get for that? he asked himself. And yet, there they were, they were risking their lives for it. Just some scared, desperate men with no money. They took one look at Palmetto Bug Man and ran away.

He lost the heart to chase after them. It was pointless. Panting, he sat down on an air duct. Since the Killswitch debacle, there had been a distinct lack of big name-brand crime going on. Just little stuff like this. Probably a good thing, really. No big threats – and no Commando Girl. 

Palmetto Bug Man reached in a pocket for his phone. Call Bam, tell her tonight was another no – show. 

The phone was smashed. Bits of plastic and glass. He’d probably landed right on the thing. Fantastic, he thought. I just bought it, too. Had to stand in line and everything. 

~          ~          ~

The bank employees parked in a basement lot. There were closed circuit security cameras all around. Security guards and ID checks at the entrance. And that was where the weak point was. One of the security guards had been fired recently for erratic behavior. Behavior that was brought about, in no small part, by a handshake with someone who was wearing a very thin, transparent glove laced with powerful hallucinogens. Fortunately, a replacement had been found.

Cheryl passed her ID to the new security guard. “Haven’t seen you before,” she said to him.

Franklin smiled warmly. “Yeah, I usually work at the Gulfport branch. They called me in to take over for Gary. Didja hear what happened to him?”

“I know, right?” Cheryl replied. “Never thought Gary would flip out like that.” She pocketed her ID again. “Have a good one,” she waved.

“You do the same,” Franklin nodded as he let her through. He pulled out his cell phone. Brand new. He’d stood in line to get it and everything. Really nice features. He texted a message. One word. naDevvo’. Go.

The security cameras would run a seamless loop, hiding the nondescript white van that pulled up next to Cheryl’s car. Hiding the two figures in white coveralls and balaclavas who placed a chloroformed rag over Cheryl’s mouth. Hiding the brusque way they tossed her limp form inside. Hiding the way they casually drove out the exit. Franklin received a text. Qapla’. Success.

Fenris shuddered just a little from the excitement of it all. His teeth ground together. Adrenaline made it hard to drive slowly. He wanted to jump up, to shout, something. That’s why they made him drive. When they’d kidnapped Kid Kaos, he had to be held down. Driving gave him something to concentrate on. Pamela sat in the back with Cheryl, zip-tying her limbs together. She checked Cheryl’s pulse. A little erratic. Don’t die on me, bitch, she thought. Pamela turned toward Fenris.

“How you doin’ up there, Fen?” she asked

Fenris nodded. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Oooo-kay.” He whistled tunelessly. “Don’t you think we should use the names? What if she can hear us?”

Pamela sighed. “She’s out cold,” she replied. “Her pulse is all over the place. I hope she’s okay. – Fen, I-”

“Names!” Fenris grunted. “I’m Teppo, remember? Remember, Oxmyx?”

Pamela rolled her eyes. “Yes, Teppo,” she exhaled.  “Teppo, didja ever think that we might be in over our heads?”

Fenris drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Of course, we are,” he answered. “That’s the thing about it. Everybody’s in over their heads. You, me, Frank- Kracko,” he corrected himself. “This Cheryl chick, her girlfriend. Everybody.” He sang. “E-e-e-everybody-y-y-y.” Nodded to himself. “That’s the only way we’re gonna be able to make it. All in over our heads. We gotta swim. Sink or swim.”

Pamela looked back to Cheryl. Poor Fenris, she thought.

The van bumped and rattled along to the warehouse.

~          ~          ~

When Fran got home that evening, she found a red envelope taped to the door. There was a sticker over the flap with “To Francine Braithwaite” printed on it in Times New Roman. This from the landlord? she thought as she tore it open. As she read, however, she collapsed to her knees.

“Commando Girl,” it began, and her heart thudded in her ears.

“Commando Girl, we have a friend of yours (see enclosed picture).” The picture was of Cheryl, arms and legs zip-tied, blindfolded and naked.

“We have a friend of yours. Thought you might appreciate the outfit. We enjoyed taking the pictures. A lot. We intend to hold on to her, until you come and rescue her. You’ll probably need to do some fighting for her, though, so you should come prepared.

“Time is of the essence, however. To ensure your cooperation, we just want you to know that we will be sending her back to you, a piece at a time, till you show up. (See enclosed lock of hair. We had to be creative in retrieving it, seeing as, you know, she’s bald. But not all over, fortunately.)” Fran pulled out the tiny ziplock bag with its several strands of short and curly black hair. Her ears grew hot.

“We will be sending more parts to you every day – fingers, toes, kneecaps, what have you – til you show up. How are you at reading longitude and latitude? (See enclosed coordinates.) And, of course, come alone. Or we kill her.

“Love, Project Killswitch.”

Fran rubbed the scar on her jaw. It started to ache.

words  and pictures © Christopher Ward. All rights reserved.

Allosaurus continues next time in Slivers.

  1. sakuraandme says:

    Okay..I hadn’t finished reading this until now! *smiles* So I hit the like button,so I would come back and finish it! *laughing*..Sorry!

    It’s really cool…without reading through everything is it a continued story that I should go back and read?…

    • getbusyyall says:

      Thank you for going to my page and reading all the things! I appreciate your observations. The story starts with the post entitled “These Superpowered Wackos and Vigilantes Are Getting Out of Hand”. There should be a link at the top of “One Day …” that goes there. This si all kind of a rough draft at this point; I had these people and situations running around in my head and I needed to get them out there, you know? Any way, thanks and, um, happy … reading?

  2. […] part 14. Here’s part 13; here’s the […]

  3. […] Allosaurus continues next time in One Day, The Bottom A Go Drop Out. […]

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