Authors: Jamie Bowers
After a few moments of heavy breathing, Tom managed to control his emotions enough to speak. He drew a breath to talk just as their attention was turned to the movement from Gordy as he awoke from under the pieces of broken door. He pushed splinters of wood from his face and chest and opened his eyes to see Joe staring down on him. Joe grabbed Gordy by the shirt and quickly lifted him to his feet. Slamming him against the wall, Joe’s anger was evident.
‘Where is my family?!’ he demanded, pulling his shirt tight around his neck. Gordy didn’t speak, just grasped his hands around Joe’s trying to free himself from his clutches. Joe slid Gordy up the wall, lifting his feet further from the floor as he pressed his clenched fists into his throat. ‘You’ve got ten seconds to tell me what I want,’ he exclaimed, ‘or you’ll be leaving my house out the fucking window!’
Gordy gripped Joe’s wrists and managed to wrench his arms away, just enough so he could take a breath.
‘She will die, Joe.’ He said as he spluttered for air, ‘If I’m not back within one hour, she dies. Tom stays with me or she dies. You keep away or she dies.’ Joe tightened his hold, pressing his knuckles harder into Gordy’s throat.
‘Why should I believe a fucking word that you’re telling me? I could kill you right now and I wouldn’t care.’ Before he could continue with the threats, his attention was interrupted by the sound of the shotgun being cocked. Still holding onto Gordy, his feet dangling down the wall, Joe turned his head to see his brother standing on the other side of the bed, pointing the barrel towards him.
‘Let him go, Joe.’ he said with panic in his voice, ‘You need to listen to him. He has her locked up and if I don’t do as he says, she dies.’ Joe continued to hold Gordy tight, looking him square in the eyes. Tom stepped towards them both, still pointing the gun at Joe’s head.
‘If you don’t let him go now and let us both leave, Gina is dead. He has people holding her that have orders and I pretty damn sure that they won’t think twice about doing as they’re told.’ Joe let go of Gordy, his body hit the floor hard as he gasped for air, trying to take in as much as his lungs could take.
‘You need to listen to your brother,’ said Gordy as he rubbed his throat, ‘my men will kill her if I am not back by two o’clock.’ He pointed to the clock on the wall above the bed, ‘It’s takes between twenty and thirty minutes to get there depending on the traffic, which means we need to leave here now if you want to see your precious Gina again.’ Joe quickly stepped over Gordy and raised his fist above his head only for Tom to grab his arm and pull him away.
‘He’s telling the truth,’ said Tom, pushing Joe back onto the bed, ‘we have to go.’
‘I can’t believe what you’re saying.’ said Joe, rubbing his brow in disbelief. ‘I thought that Mary and Gina were both dead, by my hands. I killed them and this is why I went to prison.’ Gordy lifted himself from the floor and staggered to his feet.
‘That was the plan.’ he said as he grabbed the shotgun from Tom and pointed it once more at Joe. ‘You see, your wife owes me thousands of dollars and I was getting the payments with interest whilst you were away. Right there in your bed. Gina would play a good tune on an old trumpet to keep me from telling anyone the trouble she was in.’ Joe stared along the shotgun barrel into the seedy eyes of the man who took advantage of his wife as he continued to tell his story. ‘It was going well, she would pay off her debts, and she would know what a real man felt like. Only thing was, you were sent home with your issues and I knew that I would no longer be getting the payments I wanted. You see, she told me about your anger issues and how you fail to recollect what had happened. I took the amazing opportunity and decided to frame your ass.’ Joe quickly stood up, wanting to strike Gordy, ‘I wouldn’t if I was you,’ said Gordy pressing the gun against Joe’s chest. ‘I have them both safe and she needs your brother to help clear the remaining payments.’
‘How can I believe a word you’re telling me?’ asked Joe as he sat slowly back onto the bed. Gordy smiled.
‘Well,’ he said as he scratched his head with one hand, still pointing the gun at Joe with the other, ‘you can’t trust me. But you can trust your own flesh and blood, can’t you.’ Joe turned and faced Tom standing in the corner, shaking in fear.
‘It’s true, Joe.’ He said as he scratched the palm of his hand nervously, ‘He has Gina and Mary and I have to do exactly as he says or they will both be killed.’ Gordy lowered the gun to his side and stepped towards Joe, shadowing him as he sat on the bed. ‘Your wife owes me twenty-two thousand and every day that goes by and I don’t get it, the debt gets bigger and she is closer to dying. Now, you will let me and your brother walk out of here and you don’t leave for another half an hour. I have a driver outside and if he sees you before he sees me, they’re all dead. Your wife, your daughter and even your brother here will have blood pouring out of their bodies faster than you can mop it up.’ Joe looked up at Gordy standing over him.
‘If you harm any of them, I will find you and I will kill you.’ He said.
‘I don’t doubt that for one second, boy.’ said Gordy with a grin across his face. ‘The only problem is that once I kill them, you won’t have anything worth living for, will you?’ Turning to Tom, Gordy gestured to the door.
‘We had best be going.’ Gordy walked out of the bedroom and Tom followed. Joe reached his hand out and stopped Tom.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Joe as he held a grip around Tom’s wrist.
‘I don’t know,’ said Tom, ‘but I’m not going to let him hurt your family.’ Tom pulled his arm away and walked out. Joe heard the front door slam shut as the men left.
Joe stood slowly from the bed and struggled to stand straight, the recent activities had taken its toll on his injuries. He stepped towards the door and stumbled, he was unable to put all of his weight on his leg. Dropping to his knees, Joe dragged himself through the pieces of broken wood and across the floor where he turned and sat against the wall. He looked down at his leg and could see that his blood had stained the trouser leg. Undoing his waistband, he slowly slid his trousers down his legs to his ankles. He reached his finger into the top of the dressing and slowly unwrapped it. With each unravel of bandage he cringed in pain as the pressure was released, loosening the wooden splint that held his bone together. Letting out a blood curdling scream, he pulled the last piece of material away from his skin, throwing it all to one side. Beads of sweat raced down his face as he gathered his breath before examining the damage. Joe could clearly see that his bone was still visible through the hole in his skin and blood was escaping his body with every pump of his heart. He pulled the belt from his trousers and wrapped it around his thigh, holding the end between his teeth he could see the blood flow was slowing. Still holding the belt in his mouth, Joe gathered up small pieces of wood from the carpet and crushed them in his fist. Carefully releasing the small splinters into his open wound, the pain started to become unbearable for him. He scrambled in his trouser pocket and took out the lighter that he had previously taken from a prison guard and took a deep breath as he pressed his thumb down on the wheel. As he held the lighter, with the flame burning, he presented it to the wooden shavings on his leg, holding it for some time before it lit. As soon as the wood started to burn, it quickly sparked across his wound, causing Joe to scream once more from the pain, he held his leg still as the embers reduced, leaving his wound filled with soot where his blood once was. Joe grabbed a long piece of wood and reached it out towards the bed, catching it on the edge of the sheet. He pulled the sheet off the bed and started to tear strips from the cover. Taking each piece of material, he tied the homemade splint once again tight against his shin. Covering his entire leg with new dressing, it looked almost twice the size of his right. Joe slowly looped the belt back around his trousers, stopping every few seconds to gather his breath.
Joe shuffled his feet backwards and slowly lifted himself up, straining to put pressure on his leg. He reached down and pulled his trousers up slowly, grimacing in pain as the waistband went up over his knee. As he fastened the top button he gripped his stomach as the sharp pains came back again. Letting out a scream of pain, Joe stumbled forward and dropped onto the bed, his eyes closing before his head hit the mattress.
As Joe slowly opened his eyes, he could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, the sharp sound echoed as he lifted his head from the mattress. His vision became clearer and he could see the clock, the hands indicating the time as six-forty. Joe rolled himself onto his back, stretching out his body from the well-deserved rest, even though it had been forced upon him by his troubled ailments. Sitting up, he rubbed his hand across his stomach, still feeling a dull pain, but nothing as bad as he had felt before. He stood up from the bed and took a moment to look at the remnants of damage across the floor, along with his bloody bandages. He walked out of the bedroom and slowly went from room to room, making sure that nobody was still there, ready to surprise him. The kitchen was the last room he went in to, he was alone. Besides the noise from the refrigerator motor, it was silent.
Limping back to the bedroom, Joe picked up the lighter from the floor and grabbed a handful of his clothes from the wardrobe, along with a pair shoes. He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly undressed, replacing the ill-fitting items with ones of his own. Standing up as straight as his body allowed, he felt like a free man once again, wearing a dark blue shirt and blue denim jeans, he slowly slipped his feet into a polished pair of black dress shoes. He grabbed a sand coloured jacket from the wardrobe and slid his arms in, the soft material felt good as his hands went to the end of the sleeve. Stepping back into the hallway Joe opened the top draw of the sideboard and reached his hand to the back, pushing around loose papers and envelopes. Grabbing something, Joe slid his hand out of the draw, his fingers gripping a wooden box. He placed the box on top of the sideboard and opened it carefully to reveal a gleaming, silver revolver and a box of bullets. Both looked fresh and clean and possibly never used. He loaded the gun with some bullets and closed the cylinder, hearing the click as it locked in place. Grabbing what was left of the bullets; he took the box and put them in his right jacket pocket. Joe slid the gun down the back of his trousers, covering the handle with his jacket.
Joe hobbled down the stairs to the door that led to the street, opening it slowly he peered into the alleyway to make sure nobody saw him. As he closed the door behind him, he turned up the collar on his jacket to try and obscure his face. Joe walked down the street and got back in the Fleetline, still parked next to the kerb. The traffic of people and vehicles meant he could blend in with less chance of being spotted. Turning the key in the ignition, the pain started again, radiating from his lower gut, it crippled Joe, freezing him to the seat as he slumped over the steering wheel. With all the energy he was able to conjure up, he sat up straight and slowly pressed on the accelerator, pulling the car carefully into the traffic. As he drove along the Manhattan street, the pain became worse, making him feel weak. His vision became blurry and he started to sweat. The sweat ran down his brow and into his eyes, making it harder to see anything. The sun began to set over the city, colouring the sky in a vibrant orange glow, but Joe was unable to admire the view as he needed to use all of his concentration on the road ahead.
After just a few seconds of driving, the pains from Joe’s stomach pulsed through his organs, causing him to lose concentration and swerve the car across the road into the path of oncoming traffic. Every car horn or flash of lights brought Joe’s attention back again, but not for long before the next abrupt throbbing that crippled him. Veering in and out of his lane, Joe struggled to keep the car on the road without drawing unwanted attention. He slowly released the accelerator, decreasing his speed in the hope that this would be easier for him to manage. Further down the road he could see the traffic lights changed to red and the cars ahead were stopping. As Joe slowly pressed his foot onto the brake further pain radiated throughout his body, causing him to collapse sideways onto the passenger seat as the car continued to roll towards the standing traffic. The car hit the one in front with an immense crash, throwing Joe into the foot well underneath the dashboard. His eyes closed shut as his body flopped onto the carpet.
With his eyes still closed, Joe could only hear the loud, continual sound of the car horn rattling in his head.
‘What the fuck was that?!’ Joe could hear a man shouting. ‘Get out of the car, mother-fucker! Get out before I drag you out!’ Joe slowly opened his eyes and tilted his head to look towards the passenger door. He could see a blurred silhouette of a man at the window, his outline illuminated by the street lights. The door was quickly opened and the man leant over Joe and clenched his hands around the lapels on his jacket. The man pulled Joe head first out of the car, dragging his feet along the floor.
He lifted Joe’s limp body and pinned him against the side of the car. ‘What the fuck is your problem?’ he demanded as he held Joe firmly by the shoulders. Joe was too weak to lift his head, let alone respond. Another man approached the two men and grabbed the man off Joe.
‘Can’t you see he’s injured?’ he exclaimed pulling the man back.
‘What the fuck has this got to do with you? He answered, ‘Someone has got to pay for this damage.’ He dropped Joe’s limp body to the floor and turned his attention to the passer-by. The two men started to argue with one another as Joe lay almost lifeless in the street. He lifted his head gently to see that a crowd had gathered around to observe the incident. The discussion between the men became heated and they started to push one another. The driver of the other car pushed the other man onto the kerb and then stood over him as he punched him in the face repeatedly. Joe could hear the dull thud as each fist caused blood to spill over the sidewalk. The crowds of people started to shout for him to stop but this was ignored as he continued to hammer on the head of the man who had now become limp. Using up what energy he had, Joe tried to get to his feet, slowly pulling himself up on the side of the car. Joe stood as tall as he could, clutched his stomach and shouted.
‘Hey! Leave him alone!’ The cry drew silence amongst everyone around and the man stopped hitting the other man. He stood up slowly and turned to Joe.
‘You don’t know who you’re messing with.’ he said to Joe as he walked towards him, ‘Look at you, hardly able stand and now you want to stand up to me.’ As pedestrians rushed to the aide of the downed Samaritan, the man looked Joe up and down at his frail body, the clothes hung off his once athletic build as if he had been deprived of food for weeks, ‘Are you on something or do you just want a beating as well?’ Joe stepped backwards, resting his hand on the car for balance he looked down at his feet as he gathered his breath.
‘It was an accident,’ said Joe softly into his chest.
‘What was that you said?’ questioned the man as he took a step closer to Joe. Joe lifted his head and took a large intake of air before responding.
‘It was just an accident.’ He said staring directly into the eyes of the man. Still with blood on his hands, the man pushed up against Joe, pinning his entire body back up against the car.
‘Don’t I know you?’ he said staring deep into the darkness of Joe’s eyes. Joe shook his head and tried to avert the man’s gaze by looking at the people in the crowd that had now grown bigger. He could see people talking amongst themselves and pointing. How many of them know him as the escaped convict on the run? Joe dropped is head again to try and stop any more people from seeing his face.
‘I don’t think you do.’ He said looking around the ground. The man dipped his head so that he could look at Joe further.
‘If I am not mistaken you are the guy in the news, the one who has escaped from prison and has a very nice reward on his head.’ Joe tried even harder to look at the ground and stop him from seeing his face but it wasn’t working, ‘I’m right, am I not?’ said the man with a menacing smile across his face. ‘Well, I suppose I had best take you to the police, but not without teaching you a lesson first.’ The man slowly took one step backwards and clenched both of his fists.
‘I’m going to enjoy this.’ He said as he lifted both arms into a sparring position. Joe stepped away from the car, softly raised his hands and copied the stance of the man. The two of them started to move around one another as the crowd gathered closer to form a circle that could not be escaped. ‘You see this man here?’ the man said shouting to the crowd as he continued to walk around, ‘He is a wanted man. He’s the guy who escaped from Hampton Penitentiary and when I’ve given him a lesson I’ll take him downtown and claim my reward.’ Joe couldn’t believe this, the crowd noise rose as they started to mutter amongst themselves.
‘Let’s get this over with.’ said Joe as he lifted his fists higher in front of his face, ‘I have things to do.’ The man just laughed and then quickly stepped forward jabbing his right fist directly into Joe’s jaw causing him to stumble backwards. Joe wiped his hand across his mouth and saw the blood that had come from his lip.
‘I didn’t hear the bell,’ he said with a smile on his face, ‘but that doesn’t matter, now I know we’ve started.’ Taking a large step forward Joe swung his right fist and the man ducked the strike, hitting Joe firmly in the gut. Joe quickly dropped his hands to shield his stomach and took another two fists to his unguarded face, stumbling backwards and dropping to his knee.
‘I thought so,’ said the man as he stepped over Joe, ‘prison didn’t make you anything but weak. You look like you’re ready to drop dead.’ Joe spat blood onto the floor and felt the pains in his stomach become unbearable once more. Standing up as quickly as he could, he raised his fist with vengeance and struck it hard on the man’s chin with a fierce uppercut, knocking him quickly off his feet and onto his back. The man lay on the floor, almost still, rubbing his hands around his face as Joe stepped over to him, placing a foot each side of his torso. Joe dropped down to the man’s chest, pressing his knee firmly into his throat.
‘You think I’m dead?’ he said, restricting the air flow as he pressed down harder, ‘Well, this wouldn’t hurt then, would it?’ Joe lifted his fist high above his head and dropped in rapidly, thrusting his knuckles into his skull. Repeatedly, with both fists, Joe continued an onslaught of hits, each one spilling blood onto the ground. With each hit, the man became more lifeless until Joe’s attention was broken from a scream in the crowd.
‘Please stop! You’re going to kill him!’ a woman shouted. Joe froze, staring down at the mangled face below, he couldn’t believe what he saw. He stood up slowly and looked up at the people around him, stunned in silence. A couple of people rushed over to tend to the man and Joe’s concentration was turned to the sound of sirens getting closer. Panic started to rush through Joe’s mind, he needed to do something.
He slipped his hand around his back, underneath his jacket and drew the out the pistol. The crowd became stunned and quickly stepped backwards. As fast as he could, Joe ran at the crowd and pushed his way through. Knocking people over, he had no regard to anyone else, he had to be quick if he wanted to get away. Running into a nearby alleyway, he went as quick as his legs would take him, limping with each movement whilst still gripping his aching stomach. He managed to run about two hundred yards before collapsing to his knees. Looking over his shoulder he could see the crowd still watching him and the sound of the sirens getting closer. Shuffling his legs, he got to his feet once again and started to move further down the alley. Stumbling with each movement and swaying from side-to-side, he appeared drunk and unable to hold his own weight.
He looked back once again and saw the street behind him was lit up with flashing lights and it was only a short time until the police came down the alley after him. Leaning his shoulder against a dumpster for support, Joe lifted the lid to reveal several bags of waste and an old carpet. Joe tried to lift himself into the dumpster but he did not have enough strength to do so. He could hear people at the end of the alleyway shouting and coming towards him. He grabbed the carpet and with all his strength pulled it out. Sliding between two dumpsters, he pulled the carpet around him. To someone walking past, Joe hoped that it looked like a rolled up carpet and nothing more. Joe could hear the voices and footsteps getting louder and closer, he used all of his concentration to control his breathing as it was loud and erratic. The footsteps and voices quickly passed but Joe remained still under the carpet, knowing that if he gets seen he would not be able to get away quick enough.
Still covered by the carpet, he slipped off his jacket and placed it between his head and the side of a dumpster to make a pillow. He got as comfy as he could and tried not to let any noises disturb him.