Day 211 - Repeat Offenders - Chapter 6.1 - (1220 words)

 ©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

REPEAT OFFENDERS

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 6.2

Ivan looked at his wrist, looking at the third copy of the watch that was engraved for the bank manager Harold White. The time was way off of what it should have been, and so he looked about the large open area for the ubiquitous clocks on the wall that dotted public areas like this. He didn't really know what difference knowing the time would make, if anything all it did was give him something to focus on for a couple of seconds.


The phone rang again, but this time Ivan did not rush to answer it, did not relish the chance to play the bad guy, overacting and over demanding his 'requirements'. He kept staring at the clock and let the phone ring again and again, not flinching or moving a muscle while he tried to order his thoughts. The light in the room was too bright, the sound from the phone too loud, the pressure of the clock on the wall, now staring back at him, was too much and he could not think straight.


Eventually the ringing noise stopped, and there was silence in the bank again. One of the hostages coughed, followed by a harsh and rapid intake of breath. Instant regret of drawing attention to oneself. Still Ivan did not move, his body and mind were both paralysed by the expectancy of non-existence being replaced with the sudden ordinariness of still being here.


“You can all go now.” Ivan said finally, just as the phone started to ring once more.


At first nobody moved, but then a man nearest the door got up on his knees and leaned towards the entryway, cautiously and then getting bolder stood and took a few hesitant steps. Ivan did not stop looking at the clock, but now he was rocking backwards and forwards slightly. As the man made it to the door there was a sudden rush and everyone was on their feet except the tied up guard who was still face down and in handcuffs, he was trying unsuccessfully to roll over on to his back or his side so he could rise.


As the dozen or so people all crowded into the doorway, Ivan himself bolted up behind them, dropping the gun and hurrying in amongst them trying to get out of the bank. He had figured there was only one way out of the bank and that was posing as a hostage in the mix. He had no idea how many of the people who had been lying on the floor would recognise him, he hoped to get free and get out before the police or anyone else realised and then run to the warehouse, find Brains and get reset or, put back or whatever the solution was going to be.


If he stayed then he would be arrested and there would be no way out of it, he was left holding the bag. If he held out then he would be dead, which now seemed much more final and harsh than the prospect of being reset back through the trickery of time travel and spatial anomaly manipulation. He had not prepared an escape route, he had no disguise to meld into the crowd, he just had his wits and judgement to keep him going and hopefully ahead of the cops.


“Let's get out of here before he changes his mind!” Ivan yelled in a loud whisper and pushed forward at the rear of the pack of escapees. They sucked him into their mass and surged forward and out the doors. There were panicked sounds and grunts of agreement and hast as they made their way through the door where the police were already waiting.


The sunlight was brighter than they were all expecting and every single one of them put up their hands over their heads to cover themselves from the bright light and to show a surrender to the wall of police cars parked in the plaza outside the bank entrance. Panic and chaos ensued as the hostages screamed and yelled nonsensically at their unexpected freedom and pointed behind themselves at the bank.


Ivan was among the ones pointing, yelling and trying to look as freaked out as possible as a police officer came up to him and the person nearest to him, a woman turned around to see his face just as the police officer was extending a helping hand.


“Oh my god! No! That's him! That's him! He's the guy... he's the ...” The rest of that sentence dissolved into a wailing scream of disappointed fear that the man she was so afraid of was standing free and clear, trying to sneak out and she could not find the words to communicate with the police effectively.


“That's him!” Ivan pointed to the nearest man to him and tried to shift the blame, screwing up his face as if terrified.


“Hold still everyone!” The officer grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pulled her away to an ambulance and to cover so that they were no longer in the sight line of the bank. Another cop grabbed Ivan bodily and did the same thing, Ivan throwing his hands up in surrender only to find himself being handled to the back of the ambulance and examined by a paramedic.


“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He rushed through the words, sounding gripped with relief and fear. “I thought I'd never get out alive.”


“Take this, and have some water.” The paramedic wrapped a silver metallic blanket around his charges shoulders and handed him a bottle to drink from. “You all right? Did you get hit, hurt?” The medic kept asking him questions but Ivan just shook his head continually and squinted as much ash he could, trying to shield his eyes from the light around them, but really trying to conceal his face. “Hang on, try this.” The man attending to him handed him a baseball style cap, with a caduceus logo threaded on the brow.


“Thank you.” Ivan said and pulled the hat down over his eyes as far as possible and pulled the blanket around his shoulders.


“Maybe you should lie down for a bit. Are you feeling faint?” The medic started taking his pulse, and feeling the back of his neck. “It's possibly just shock, but we should take you to the hospital for a check to be sure. Do you have any history of...” the questions droned on and Ivan answered as many as he could to indicate that he was potentially at risk of being very ill, affected by the stress and turmoil of the hostage taking.


“That's him there!” The woman who had screamed before was standing in front of him now, beside her were two armed officers in bulletproof vests and their guns trained on him.


The medic put up his hands and stepped to the side, leaving Ivan alone, wrapped in metallic fibre, hat pulled down over his ears, but now there was no longer anywhere else to run.


“Reset me now guys?” Ivan said loud, working out that maybe an insanity plea was the best way forward now. “Guys? Little help?” He looked up to the sky from underneath the cap, but nothing happened.