Title: "Revelations: Part 12 of 14"
He moved ever so carefully down the street curb. He was careful, but had a goal as well. He would have to be careful, extremely careful, as well as fast, and remember exactly where he was last time he was there. He continued to walk down the street curb.
He reached the entrance to the alley. He took a deep breath. Was that fear? Was he scared to enter it again? It hadn't been a problem the night before, or any other time before that. So was it really fear? Hey, he was Theodore Balmore. When you're him, there's nothing to be afraid of, right?
He took one step into the alley. Nothing happened. Was there ever anything to worry about in the first place? Theodore let out a sigh. He walked with more assurance with each step that he took into the alley. One step after another. He would soon be at the expanded ending of the alley. The moonlight would shine through down there and he wouldn't have to walk through such darkness as he was during the long walk through to the ending.
His pace sped up just slightly. He was almost to the ending. The place where it had been walled up years before, creating an enlarged alley, almost twice as wide as the opening and lead-in was. Funny craftsmanship. Not as good as Theodore could have done it if he was a carpenter. He was sure of that, no doubt.
He made it into the ending. It was lighter there. He could see his hand in front of his face. He could see along the floor of the alley. And so he began to look across it. He was sure it had fallen out in this part of the alley. The others could look through the apartment, but Theodore was to be the one to look through the alley. And he looked. And looked harder. He became frustrated with not finding it. He grabbed a wooden crate and threw it across the alley in frustration. It had to be here somewhere! A simple glove does not just disappear without a trace. There had been no luck in the apartment when he had walked out of it. And the alley was the last place that it could be.
Perhaps... he had dropped it somewhere between the ending and the entrance. It had been in his back pocket, no doubt. It was possible. But he needed a flashlight if he was going to have to look through the walkway of the alley. It was not so fortunate to have the shining moonlight due to the narrow width of it.
He turned, looking back at the darkness that engrossed the walkway. He was very hesitant to want to go back through it. But he had just came through it to get to where he was, so he figured it couldn't be that bad.
On accident, he said the last of those words out loud to himself. His body jumped slightly. He shook his head. He couldn't go off spooking himself. He was Theodore Balmore. Nobody, but nobody, can spook him. But he had just spooked himself.
Calming and controlling the wild thoughts running through his head, he took a deep breath. He held the sigh for a long time before breathing in again. He had to go get that flashlight. He had to walk back out of the alley.
Did he just hear something?
He shook his head. His ears were playing tricks on him.
Did he just see something?
Becoming frustrated with his eyes and ears playing tricks on him, he concluded that that was the last straw. Subconsciously, he balled up his hands into fists and stepped slowly into the shadows. He could no longer see in front of him. It would be a little bit before his eyes could adjust to such darkness, as was the walkway of the alley.
He took a small step. Nothing happened. He could see the entrance far up above. It was only about a hundred feet away. No worries. He took another step.
Did he just hear something again?
He was becoming agitated with his own false sense of realism now. Just get the flashlight, get the glove, and be gone. They had limited time as it was because of that convertible sitting out in the open.
He took a few more steps.
He was gaining confidence. Not really confidence, just assurance that he was worrying over nothing. Besides, he was almost there.
He came closer to the exit way. It looked to be no more than twenty feet away.
He raised his shoulders back, beginning to walk at a good, steady pace. He was almost there...
Suddenly, a fist came out of the dark, catching him in the gut. Theodore turned, confused. Another fist came flying, hitting him in the chin.
"Shit!" Theodore screamed, as he went backwards into the wall of the alley walkway. He raised his arms to strike, but he was just now getting used to the dark. Things were just simply outlines.
And an outline raised up quickly from out of the low dark, lunging at him, striking him again. Theodore threw a punch of his own, connecting with skin somewhere. And then he felt the person's hands around his neck.
A voice sounded up out of the dark. "You bastard! It was you all along!"
Theodore recognized the voice. It was Zero!
Theodore grabbed at the hands, breaking them apart with a struggle. He kicked wildly, feeling like he kicked a shin with his own shin. A shriek of pain went through.
Zero grabbed his shin for a brief moment, his eyes more used to the dark than Theodore's were, most apparently.
Zero balled up his fist and threw a strike at Theodore's face. He missed, connecting with the brick of the wall. Theodore threw a punch immediately after, hitting Zero squarely in the side of the face. Zero's head rocked back, knocking him down to the ground.
Theodore got up to his knees, his fist coming over his head in a haymaker, dead set on leveling Zero's head. Zero raised his knee at the last moment, though, as Theodore's forearm caught Zero's kneecap.
Theodore pulled him hand back, but Zero was all over him. He grabbed hold of Theodore's collar, pressing his face up against Theodore's. "You came to kill me last night," Zero gritted through his teeth.
Theodore, finding that his ability to breath was rapidly fading by having Zero atop his chest, lunged out with, "You're insane, Lint! You have absolutely no damn idea what you're talking about!"
Zero grabbed hold of Theodore's collar and raised him up, then proceeded to slam him hard back into the concrete ground. "Only, you were going to even use the same glove you used on the others, to use to kill me as well!"
"What in the hell are you talking about, you piece of shit!" With that, Theodore mustered up strength and threw Zero from atop of him. He gasped for a deep breath and got up to one leg, before Zero was back at him. But Theodore's hand felt a log, stick, something... and swung it at Zero as he came back to him. It connected with Zero's middle section, causing him to fold over and roll atop and over Theodore's foot.
Theodore got up quickly, trash still sticking to his clothes, and lunged at Zero. Zero, getting to his feet, saw him and grabbed him as he came, using his own momentum to throw him into the side of the dumpster that rested at the edge of the alley.
Theodore hit the corner of it hard and reached for his back immediately. He couldn't react as Zero came for him, grabbing him by his shirt and throwing him back into the shadows of the alley walkway.
Grabbing the log Theodore had used so well against him, Zero hit Theodore across the stomach with it, causing Theodore to convulse into a ball. Blood was already streaming down the side of his face, as well as the blood that had already been coming off of Zero's fist and head.
Zero took the log and lodged it against Theodore's throat, trying to choke him to death. "You did it! You did it and got the blame passed on to me!" Zero was screaming at him, emotions tearing through him! "You did it!"
Gasping for a breath, Theodore pleaded through tapping on Zero for him to release the log so he could say something. Zero was reluctant. He was very reluctant. But he had to hear Theodore confess. He had to hear Theodore tell him that it had been him, indeed, who had killed the three men that Zero had been originally accused of killing.
Letting up on the log, Theodore clutched his throat, trying to restore breathing through it. He coughed, spitting up some blood, while all the while looking up at Zero who held the log firmly in the air, ready to bring it down and strike at Theodore's head.
"Ok, ok. I did it." Theodore coughed some more. "But they attacked me first. It was self defense" He continued to cough.
Zero, sitting atop Theodore in the alley, his hands raised high to strike, looked down at him with a sudden rage. "You're a liar. You killed them in cold blood." Some of the blood that was coming from Zero's knuckled came together, forming a stream, until it dropped onto Theodore's face. He tried to wipe it away, but Zero was sitting atop his arms.
He tried to laugh, but it was nothing more than blood laced coughs. "Maybe I am. Maybe it was cold blood. But as far as anyone else in this city is concerned, you were the one who done it all along. Everyone views you as the killer, except just the killer who got away with it. And with that, my whole objective of laying the bodies in the alley was finished to perfection!" He spit a wad of red spit upward at Zero, but it only fell back down and landed in Theodore's hair. He disregarded it, though, and added one more thing. "Now where's the glove? You're blood needs to be added to the design that those three originally started."
The rage inside of Zero boiled, and went off. "Not over my dead body..."
"Exactly the scenario we're trying to achieve here. I made Zero, and I can destroy him" gnarled Theodore. And suddenly, in his hand, a switchblade knife went off.
Zero heard it, but it diverted his attention long enough for him to let his guard down. Theodore rose up with an enormous energy, slamming his forehead into Zero's stomach. Zero dropped the log, but rolled out of the reach of the swinging blade just in time.
Theodore, aggravated that that did not connect, lunged once again with the blade. But this time, Zero was prepared. He dove to the left of the oncoming blade. When the hand was fully extended, Zero kicked the hand, causing the blade to go backwards, nicking Theodore's forearm in the process. He dropped the blade, grabbing for his now bleeding forearm. It was all Zero needed. He kicked Theodore in the gut, pushing Theodore back to the entrance of the alley walkway. The log was still laying on the ground and Theodore's foot met with it, causing him to roll over it and lose his balance. He fell to the ground with a hard thud.
Zero grabbed the knife and was quickly onto Theodore, the knife promptly put against Theodore's neck. Theodore was paralyzed in fear. He was within half an inch of death. And Zero's wild eyes were already past the point of murder.
Zero looked down at Theodore, his eyes racing across Theodore's face. "Is this what you had in mind? Is it? Is it? This was going to be me!"
But Theodore could not speak. His Adam's apple bobbed frantically. He couldn't even twitch. He was frozen. Zero had won. After all of these years, Zero had finally won the battle.
But suddenly, from the entranceway, a gun clicked on. It was aimed and ready to fire.
* * * * *
Inside of the emergency room, Matt buckled under the shot that the doctors were giving him. He didn't want to be there. It wasn't the shot. He knew that something was happening and he had to do something about it.
"It's fine, it's fine." Matt looked at his bicep in pain.
Beside him, both Fred and Erica were trying to calm their nerves from what had just happened. There had almost even been a wreck on their mad rush to the hospital.
"Matt, it's not fine. You have to get some medical attention on that. The police will handle everything. We've already reported the car." Erica stood beside her father, as they both watched the doctor cut, snipped, and sewn up stitches into Matt's arm. The doctors didn't even bat an eye upon the mention of the police. Must have been a common occurrence in the hospital.
"No, the police will be too late. I know..." He ground his teeth as the doctor finished with the stitches. "I know that something will happen before they get there. What if Zero gets back to his apartment and they're there waiting for him? The police will be too late."
He had a point. Erica had been thinking of the same thing.
Fred was the one who jumped into the conversation, though. He asked the doctor abruptly, "How much longer until he will be free to go?"
The doctor on duty, a middle-aged man of obvious Spanish descent, turned from the stitches and replied to Fred. "We should be finished with this procedure in about ten minutes. We'd like to keep him overnight, though, in the instance that any swelling might occur. In that case, we will be able to neutralize any problems that might occur from it."
Matt jumped in his seated position of the doctor's table. "By God no! I have to get out of here. My arm will do fine. Just put some gauze on it and I'll do fine."
The doctor replied, "It would be in your best interest if you stayed here overnight. We cannot forcefully keep you here, but it would be most beneficial to you if you did."
Erica jumped in to calm Matt. "I'll keep an eye on him. He'll be staying at my house tonight." She looked over to her father after saying that. He nodded back to her. "So, if anything does happen, I'll be awake to rush him to the hospital"
The doctor thought it over in his head. He didn't like the idea. He never liked the idea of a civilian caring for something as serious as how a gunshot could turn out to be. But it was obvious to him that none of the three were going to see it his way.
He looked to Matt as he slipped the last stitch in his bicep. "Ok, I'm not condoning this. I've been backed into a corner, so there's really nothing I can say or do. But," He looked from Matt, around to the two who were standing behind him, "be careful. If something happens or if it starts changing colors, please call here or get someone to bring you here. There's still the possibility of gang green that could set in. It's slim, but there's a chance."
Matt understood. He looked over to Erica and Fred Storm. They would be there if something happened to him. He looked back to the doctor as he cut some gauze and tape from the dispenser. "Ok. You have my word. I just have a friend who might be in serious danger. I can't stay here while his life might be on the line."
The doctor looked up at him. A faint grin crept over the doctor's mouth. "I know. That's all that you three have been talking about since you arrived."
Matt opened his mouth to respond, but figured that it was apparent that they had all said enough already.
The doctor worked on the gauze, finally stretching it all over the wound. In about fifteen minutes, the three would be finished in the doctor's room. After that, it would be off to Gilman to get to Zero before Theodore did. That is, if Zero was even back yet. That was another question that they didn't know the answer to.
* * * *
Theodore closed his eyes. He was saved.
Zero looked up in front of him. Staring back at him was the barrel of a gun, positioned by Theodore's little brother, Patrick. Beside him, his head down, his eyes looking over at the situation, was JJ.
"Get the fuck off of him or I'll blow your whole damn head off!" Patrick was screaming at Zero.
Zero was hesitant. He moved just so slightly atop of Theodore.
"Get off of him!" Patrick screamed even louder. He cocked the gun.
"You shoot me and I'll cut your brother's throat. I'll do it, even if it will be the last thing I do." Zero's hard stare up at Patrick did not let up.
Patrick, still looking at Zero through the cross hairs, lowered his voice. "You cut his throat and I'll be certain to make sure both Matt... and Erica... wind up inside of this alley with a whole through their head."
That struck a nerve inside of Zero. He could die. He could take Theodore down with him. But Matt and Erica had too much to live for. There was too much for them to die in vain because of his stubbornness.
He slowly released the knife from Theodore's throat. Once it was out of the range of his throat, Theodore clutched at his throat, gasping for many takes of oxygen that he had been deprived of for the past few minutes.
"Throw the knife over here. Throw it down to JJ's feet." Patrick with still looking at Zero through the cross hairs of the gun.
Zero, ever so cautiously, folded the knife up and slid it across the concrete to JJ's feet.
Theodore, still reeling from earlier, was still aware of what he had just done. "You prick! That knife cost more than your life was ever worth, no doubt!"
Zero didn't pay him any mind, though.
The knife stopped spinning. JJ picked it up and held it in one of his hands. He had backed away a little from Patrick. He was still observing the whole situation, but had not said a word yet. All his face said was confusion.
"Now get off of him!" Patrick assumed himself as a dictator with a gun at this moment.
Zero slowly raised upon his feet, stepping over Theodore. He focused his attention strictly on Patrick.
Theodore raised up from the ground and got to his feet. He blindsided Zero with a right hand to Zero's jaw. Zero's head was knocked to the side. He clutched his jaw, but just rubbed it for a brief moment before staring back at Theodore. It hurt, but that was just paid he had to block out at that moment.
Theodore cocked his head, knowing that Zero wouldn't strike back as long as the barrel of a gun was pointed at him. So Theodore dusted off his pants and walked confidently over to Patrick. "Ok, let me take over from here." Patrick slid him the gun willingly, but still stood beside his brother with his hands propped against his hips.
"So here it ends, Zero." Theodore was now the one viewing Zero through the cross hairs. "Lint Douglas, the boy who I, myself, turned into Zero. How does it feel, Lint? How does it feel to look at your maker?"
Zero stood stone faced. The rage was still in his eyes, but he didn't think it was the time for a move yet.
Theodore continued to talk. "Only now, a maker is going to take back something he created due to defects. Lint, Zero is no more. There's no use in your little game anymore. You're just now, always have been, and always will be, little Lint Douglas, the public whipping boy of Berkeley. Only, when one decides it wants to try things for itself, that's when you know the fun's over and you have to put it in its place." A deranged smile passed over Theodore's face. He was enjoying this tremendously.
Slowly, a low toned voice came out of Zero. He stood, perfectly still, and stared at Theodore as he said, "So shoot me, then." Zero's eyes broke free. Calmness came over his face. "You want to put me in my place? You want to end what I've started? Then go ahead. Do what you keep saying you will do! Shoot me! Kill me right here in my own alley!"
Theodore's facial expression went from calm and in control, to a sudden mysteria. "No, no! It's not that easy, Lint!"
"Sure it is. Be a man. Pull the trigger." Zero's eyes were focusing in, getting darker and edgier. He was almost screaming it now. "Pull the trigger, Theodore! Pull it, damn it!"
Theodore wasn't sure if he should. This wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Zero couldn't want to die.
"Do me the favor, Theodore! End this life, please! I'm ready. I want to go! Do me the favor! Do it!" Zero was screaming it now.
"No, no, this isn't right. The others begged, pleaded for their life! Beg, Beg!" Theodore's eyes were wide open, almost in hysteria from the motions Zero was putting out.
"What others? What are you talking about, Theodore?" Zero's face was edgy, gritty. He was staring straight at Theodore.
Theodore, though, was beginning to sweat. It was running down into his eyes. He had to let go of the gun to wipe it out. Hearing Zero say that only frustrated him more. "You know exactly who I am talking about! The three who I left in this alley!" He wiped his face again. "Beg, Zero, or so help me God, I'll kill you right here and now, no doubt."
Zero opened his eyes all the way, and took a step forward to Theodore. The rise of the gun caused Zero to stop where he was, but that was good enough. "I don't think you will. You can't, no matter how much I ask you to."
Theodore wiped sweat away and stared down at Zero. "I can. It doesn't matter. I can, and I will..."
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