Watching, Waiting

“Who the fuck are you?” Gerard demanded as the car raced along the roads, Simons driving aggressively but trying to keep roughly to the speed limits so as to not attract too much attention.
“You can ask Frankie when you see him,” Simons replied without taking his eyes from the road.
“He doesn’t know.”
“Oh,” he laughed, “he does now. I gave him an incentive to improve his memory and it all came flooding back.”
“What did you do to him?” Gerard snapped angrily.
“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Nothing at all… to him.”
Gerard’s eyes widened. “Mikey?”
Simons laughed again. “Yes, poor Mikey,” he briefly turned cold eyes to Gerard. “I found his screams and the begging for mercy very satisfying. Very expressive eyes, every ounce of pain reflected back in them.”
“You bastard!” Gerard replied his eyes flashed with loathing as he struggled against the handcuffs.

Simons reached across and grabbed Gerard’s chin, pulling his head slightly to the left to look at him.

“If I were you, I’d try to remember you’re in a fast car with no seatbelt. If I stand on the brakes, you’ll go through the windscreen like a bullet. Is that how you want to die?”
“You won’t get away with this, they know who you are now! They’ll be looking for you.”

Simons gave a short laugh as he pulled his hand away.

“And by the time they find me, you’ll all be dead. I’m only gonna get three of you now, I know that, but when we get there, you and Mikey are dead men. No sweet reunion with your brother just dead, get it?”
“And Frank?” Gerard asked bitterly.
“I’ll make him watch,” he grinned sadistically, “by the time I’m finished with you two, he’ll be begging me to kill you, just to get your screams out of his head. Then I’m gonna leave him, alone, in the dark with just your bodies to keep him company. He’s chained up, so it’s not like he has any chance of escape. No food, no water and he’ll die like that, eventually, probably take about a week or two with the pair of you rotting alongside him! Might even go crazy first?”
“You’re insane!” Gerard shouted; shocked, angry and scared.
“Maybe?” he laughed as he glanced over at Gerard’s dismayed expression. Reaching behind the singer, he pulled hard on the handcuffs. “But what are you gonna do about it?”

Pulling to the side away from his grip, Gerard twisted his body around so he leaned against the locked door, lifting his left leg he kicked hard at Simons’ hand as it held the wheel with enough strength to break it and force the wheel to the left. Screaming in pain, Simons’ hand fell limp as the car skidded across the lanes. Able only to steer with one hand, he tried desperately to pull the out of control car out of its swerve, all the while, Gerard kicked. Simons turned, sweeping his arm across to the side to try to push Gerard’s leg to the side made the singer lose his balance. Turning in the seat and sliding, Gerard found himself now facing almost the opposite way around, propped up against the passenger side of the dashboard. Barely pausing for a moment, he continued to kick furiously and repeatedly, enraged by what he had done to Mikey, by what he planned to do to them still.

His right arm now useless from the relentless kicking, Simons turned wild eyes towards Gerard and screamed abuse at the enraged singer. Removing his left hand from the wheel momentarily, he grabbed Gerard’s ankle and pulled sharply. Gerard’s eyes opened wide as the action made him lose his balance once more but this time he slipped backwards and down, falling to the floor underneath the dashboard, his legs still up on the seat.

Unable to use his hands he struggled to move from his position on the floor of the car, finally realising to his horror that he was trapped as the car began to spin out of control. Glancing up, he saw a terrified glaze in Simons’ eyes and he froze. Only seconds later a loud bang filled Gerard’s ears and the car shuddered violently. There was a moment when everything seemed to stop, and he was held motionless before the horizon tilted and he knew instantly that the car was headed off the road.

Simons stretched across with his good arm to unfasten his seatbelt before reaching for the door release. Glancing down he glowered at Gerard still lying on the floor, handcuffed, helpless and unable to move.

“You’re still gonna die, Way! All of you!”

Pulling on the catch, the door flew open and he leapt from the moving vehicle. Gerard suddenly found himself being thrown from the floor as he realised to his horror that the car was now heading into a roll. His forehead connected sharply with the underneath of the dashboard and the pain spread out over the top of his head like water. A veil of blackness covered his eyes as he was, for a few seconds, vaguely aware of being tossed from side to side inside the car as it tumbled erratically downhill, the sound of twisted metal filling his ears. Only seconds later the car came to a grinding halt and everything was suddenly silent.

*

Bob paced in the waiting room, agitated and tense. Moving to look out of the window he watched as an ambulance arrived, its lights flashing and siren blaring. The paramedics pulled two gurneys from the back, one occupant zipped inside a body bag, the other attached to oxygen and a drip was immediately pushed towards the entrance. A police officer stood alongside the first gurney. There was no rush with that one, Bob noted; he was headed for the morgue.

Bob turned away and settled slightly. The sight had given him some perspective – at least Ray wasn’t as bad as either of the new arrivals. Granted, he hadn’t woken yet, but the doctor had at least confirmed that he should be in general good health. No bones were broken, no internal swelling or bleeding. He’d probably wake with a blinding headache, but, Bob conceded, that was minor in relation to what could have happened – what did happen.
Eddie returned to the waiting room with two coffees in his hands and passed one to Bob. Momentarily, he narrowed his eyes, gazing suspiciously at the cup.

Eddie shook his head and sighed. “It’s just coffee, Bob.”
“Why haven’t we heard anything?”
“About Ray?” Eddie queried to clarify.
“Or Gerard?” he frowned. “You called the police, gave them the license plate, how could he just disappear?”
Eddie shrugged. “It may depend where he was headed?” He heaved a sigh, not even believing his own words. “I don’t know.”

The pair looked up as the door opened; at last, perhaps some information? Expecting to see a doctor, both men were momentarily taken aback as a police officer was shown in.

“What’s happened?” Eddie asked. “Have you found them?”
“The car went off the road and ended up at the bottom of an embankment near a river.”
“And?” Eddie prompted.
Bob paled as he recognised the police officer. “I just saw you arrive! In the ambulance. Which one?”
The police officer stared bewildered by Bob’s outburst.
“Which one was Gerard?” he clarified.
The police officer nodded. “He’s alive, but he’s in pretty bad shape. There’s a doctor with him now, and he’ll come to speak to you as soon as he’s finished.”

The door opened again and Detective Silburn entered the room, greeted by a deep scowl from Bob.

“Oh, look who it is! So you believe there’s a genuine threat to Frank now, do you?”
Silburn frowned. “And you are?”
“Bob Bryar, drummer.”
“Well, Mister Bryar, you’ll be pleased to hear that we were, in fact, following the car discreetly. We would have found your two missing band members if your singer hadn’t gone crazy and forced the car off the road.”
“Why would I be pleased to hear that, you…!”
“Bob!”

Eddie stepped in between as Bob headed angrily towards the detective. Pushing his shoulders back, Eddie yelled again, trying to cut through the furious haze he saw in Bob’s eyes.

Bob stood back, shaking out of Eddie’s grip, his jaw clenched and his eyes almost black with anger.

Silburn continued as if nothing had happened. “It looks like Simons tried to jump from the car about half way down the embankment, but it rolled over him, he’s dead.”
Eddie chewed his lip. “Any idea where the car was headed?

Silburn shook his head.

“No, thanks to Gerard’s heroics, we have no idea.”
“How could he have known?” snapped Bob. “That guy was gonna kill him! Would you have just sat there and let him?”

*

“Mikey?” Frank called across the room. “Mikey are you okay?”

The young bassist screwed up his eyes as the calls to him cut through his light sleep.

“Frank?” he muttered at first before his eyes widened and he pushed himself upright. “Frank! You’re awake! Are you alright?”

Frank smiled, finding amusement in them both asking each other the same questions.

“I’m okay,” he smiled, “I’ve been awake for a couple of hours now.”
Mikey stared in dismay. “I… but… you were out for at least four hours. I fell asleep, you’ve been asleep…”

Frank looked at his watch and frowned.

“It’s been over ten hours”
“Do you think he’s coming back?”

Frank could only stare in reply, eventually glancing down at the chains encircling his wrists.

“He has to.”
Mikey shook his head slightly. “He wants to kill us. Why should he come back?”
Frank shook his head. “He wants the others too. He…”

Mikey shook his head slightly and Frank responded by glancing down.

“No,” Frank shook his head, refusing to give in to his fear. “They’ll find us! We’ll be okay.”

Mikey nodded, wanting to, but not truly believing it.

*

“Mister Toro is awake,” a nurse announced as she popped her head inside the door. “You can see him now.”

Bob sighed with relief. Even though, he knew that Gerard was badly hurt and Frank and Mikey were still missing, he allowed himself the single happy thought that at least Ray had survived and was well enough to receive them. Pushing past Silburn, he headed briskly for Ray’s room.
Ray smiled as Bob burst through the door, anxious to ensure that at least one of his friends was safe.

“Ray!” Bob smiled gratefully. “You’re okay?”

Ray smiled then grinned at the overwhelming reception.

“I’m fine!” he smiled. “I probably don’t even need to be here… I…” he tapered off as he saw the concern in Bob’s eyes. “Okay, I’m fine, so that look isn’t for me. What’s happened?”

Bob briefly closed his eyes before explaining everything that had happened since the attack in the bus.

“The guy, the psycho, he’s dead,” Bob finally advised.

Ray tried to find the best response.

“I can't honestly say I'm sorry, but…” he began.
“But we don’t know where he’s got Frank and Mikey.”

Ray stared blankly in response. Horrified as he realised that unless they had been provided with some water, they probably only had a few days to find them.

“And Gee?” he asked.
“He took him… instead of you, but the car went off the road. He’s just been brought in, he’s alive, but that’s all we know so far. The doctor’s with him.” Bob sighed.
Ray exhaled deeply. “Is there any good news?”
“Yeah,” Bob nodded. “You and Gee are alive.”
Ray put a hand to his mouth. “How are we going to find them?”
Bob shrugged. “I don’t know, but if I have to search every building in this city, I will!”

*

“Mikey?” Frank spoke quietly. He didn’t want to wake him, just speak to him if he were already awake.
“Yeah?” came the quiet reply.
“He’s not coming back, is he?”

A silence hung in the air for a few moments.

“Doesn’t look like it.”
“You seem pretty calm about it,” Frank commented.
“Yeah, well,” Mikey rolled onto his back and drew up his knees having earlier felt well enough to untie his ankles. “That’s because I’m too numb to really take it in. How do you tell your brain to accept that you’re gonna die?”
Frank laughed despondently. “I don’t know! I can’t quite do it either.”
Mikey turned his head to face the guitarist.
“It’s one of those key life changing moments they tell you about.”
“Life changing, in that we won’t be alive any more?”
“Yeah,” Mikey agreed almost laughing at the absurdity of the conversation. “But we can’t react properly, because, it’s never happened before and, well, lets face it, it ain’t gonna happen again!”

Frank shook his head and smiled to himself. Somehow, in the face of real adversity, Mikey was holding onto his humour. Only Mikey, he thought.

“If I have to die, I’m glad it’s with you.”

Mikey dissolved into a fit of laughter. Rolling onto his stomach, he grinned at Frank as the convulsions slowly subsided. Initially mortified by the reaction, Frank eventually realised how his words had sounded and his cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he quickly corrected himself.
“I know,” Mikey chuckled. “but that only made it funnier. But, if it helps,” Mikey’s tone grew serious, “I do know what you mean and I feel the same.”
“Do you think they’ll find us… in time?”

Mikey took a deep breath as he considered the question and what he knew Frank wanted to hear. But, this was no time for lies.

“Honestly?” he paused slightly. “No.”

*

“Look,” Brian’s exasperated voice sounded over the phone. “Can’t you just check it out? How difficult can it be?”
“We don’t have unlimited resources, you know!” Silburn replied.
“You don’t have any leads, either!” Brian snapped in return. “Just check it out!”
“Alright! We’ll check it, but don’t be surprised when it comes up negative.”

*

Rising from his bed, Ray slipped on a hospital dressing gown and he, Bob and Eddie were led to Gerard’s room. It was a shocking sight when they first walked in. Gerard was hooked up to three separate machines and the drip into his arm still very much attached.

“Gee?” Ray began.
Gerard opened his swollen and puffy eyes and offered a faint smile. “You’re okay?” he asked in an almost silent whisper.
“We’re fine,” Bob confirmed as Ray almost choked on his own emotions. “I heard you took a tumble?”
Gerard smiled faintly. “Yeah, I know what it’s like to be a sheet in a dryer now.”
“Well,” Eddie joined in. “You’re white enough to be a sheet too.”

Gerard chuckled, but the movement made him cough.

“Gee?” both musicians called with concern.
“I’m okay. Just a couple of broken ribs, a sprained wrist and knee and lots of bruises and scrapes. I apparently got off so light from being on the floor of the car. I guess, somehow, it saved my life.”
“That’s getting off light?” Ray spluttered.
Gerard frowned. “Could have been a lot worse. From what I hear, he didn’t fare so well.”
“Good riddance,” Eddie retorted, a sudden bitter anger rising in his voice.

Gerard’s mind, initially dulled by painkillers and sedatives, turned abruptly to recent events and immediately felt pangs of guilt for taking so long for everything to register in his traumatised state.

“Mikey and Frank?” he asked with urgency in his voice. “Tell me you’ve found them.”

Ray looked at his feet, wishing there was better news.

“They… they’re not…?”
“We haven’t found them,” Ray clarified realising that Gerard was assuming the worst.
“Wh… but… No idea?” He stammered.
Ray shook his head slightly. “The police are working on it.”

Gerard tried to put a hand to his head and halted immediately as a stabbing pain shot up his arm from his wrist. Looking down to his left arm he grimaced and turned away.

“Are you in pain? Shall I get a nurse?” Eddie asked.
“There’s a needle in my arm!” Gerard complained.
“Actually, there’re two,” Bob corrected him.

If possible, Gerard paled further, visibly shook and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.

“Man are you gonna…” Bob began.

Gerard tipped his head to the right and retched violently as a nurse entered the room to run checks.

“I’m sorry, Gee!” Bob frowned, guilt-ridden for exacerbating his phobia.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave now; he really needs to rest.” The nurse stated. “And you!” she glared at Ray. “You should get back to your own room!”
“He’s got a phobia of needles,” Ray explained as the nurse tried to clean up the mess.
“Thanks,” she nodded, grateful for the information. “I’ll cover them up, now get back to your room.”

*

“Well, well, who’d have thought it?” Silburn spoke aloud and leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Well, I guess I’d rather be proved wrong like this than any other way.”
Getting to his feet, he signalled to two officers to join him as he headed out to the parking lot.

*

Frank hugged his knees as he listened to Mikey sleeping. His breathing was slow and deep, but he was otherwise silent except for the occasional half formed word. Frank took a deep breath. There was little else to do except sleep and after the beating he had suffered, Mikey needed it.

Frank turned his head to look at the door at the top of the stairs, or more accurately the strip of light that had appeared again at the bottom.

“Mikey!” Frank called. “He’s back.”

Mikey looked up from his light sleep as Frank continued to shout.

“Hey!” he yelled at least four times.
“What are you doing?” Mikey asked; eyes wide with concern.
“Mikes we need water, if nothing else. He can’t just disappear like that and leave us with nothing.”
“He’s trying to… no, he’s actually going to kill us, Frank. Why would he give us water?”

Frank’s shoulders sagged and he exhaled deeply.

“Okay, so I’m an idiot.”
“No,” Mikey smiled, “you’re not, you…”

Both men looked up as the door opened and they saw the silhouette in the doorframe, pausing momentarily before quickly descending the stairs followed by two other men. Shrinking back against the wall, the two musicians feared a beating only to stare in astonishment as the lead man moved into the light shed by the single bulb.

“I really didn’t think we’d find you,” Silburn announced to the guitarist.
“How…” Frank began confused. “You caught him?”
“He’s dead,” Silburn advised simply. “Crashed his car.”
“Then how… how did you find us?” Frank asked as Silburn dropped to his knee and pulled out a key taken from Simons’ body; it fitted the padlocks perfectly.
“Something your manager said,” the detective confirmed as the chains fell away from Frank’s wrists and he moved to repeat the process with Mikey.
“What?”
“We found out that Simons had rented a car under his brother’s name so that nothing would be immediately traced to him. Brian suggested,” he paused to help the two friends to their feet, “well, insisted, we check if anything else was in his brother’s name and this place came up.”

Frank covered his face with his hands; his shoulders dropping as he realised they were safe. Mikey moved towards him and wrapped his arms around his shaking friend.
Silburn sighed; his careworn, cynical heart softening at the sight.

“Come on,” he spoke gently. “Let’s get you both to hospital.”
Mikey looked up. “Are the others okay?”
“Fine,” Silburn bent the truth a little; it would serve no purpose to worry them unnecessarily. “They’ll meet you there.”

Notes