Mister Nobody

Chapter 4

Jack had never considered himself an athletic man, but right now, he was running faster than he ever though he could. Bobbing and weaving his way through the crowd, he could hear the cops shouting at him from behind, and he knew he couldn't keep this up for long. He had to find a way out. Looking around, he was on the bottom level of the shops, and the exit was two floors above him. The elevator was obviously out, and there were no stairs he could get to. Looking behind him, he saw the cops closing in, and he knew he needed to choose fast. Then, Jack spotted a piece of modern art inside of a fountain that looked like a red "S". Running across to the fountain, he used his newfound skills to pull himself up, climbing up the sculpture with ease. Once he was at the top, he leaped off towards the balcony on the floor that was above him. He may not have been up at the top, but he at least now had a head-start. Seeing the cops below him running back towards the stairs, Jack looked around until he found a stairwell, and started running, and he noticed quickly that he'd never had to catch his breath quite yet.

Bursting through the door, he could see the cops coming up the stairs a few flights below him, and he bolted up the stairs to the top floor, making his way through the door and running towards the exit. Looking for the door, he suddenly ran into someone, falling back as he saw a briefcase hit the ground, spilling out a few pieces of paper. The man in the grey business suit he'd hit groaned as he looked at him. Jack let out an instinctive "Sorry..." before something caught his eye, making him freeze. Inside the briefcase was a small machine pistol, namely a Steyr TMP, which was something that not even a regular American citizen should be carrying. The man had noticed Jack staring, and the two sat still for a brief moment. Then, the man broke the mold by diving for the briefcase, with Jack following close behind. They both grabbed the gun, wrestling for it on the ground, Jack occasionally elbowing the man in the face to try and make him drop it. Then, one of their fingers tightened on the trigger, causing a spray of bullets to shoot into the ceiling, making one of the fluorescent lights above them burst, showering glass onto both their bodies. At the sound of gunfire, everyone on the floor and beneath them scattered, screaming and running for the exits. The man with the briefcase had drawn back from the shards of glass, giving Jack enough time to roll over behind him and wrap his arms around his neck, keeping him in a chokehold. Tightening his grip, Jack kept holding him until he stopped struggling, and his arms went limp, dropping the gun.

As if on cue, the door to the stairwell opened, and the cops saw Jack on the floor holding the unconscious man, glass and bullet casings scattered around them. They all drew their pistols. "Show me your hands!" One of them shouted, and Jack knew he had to think fast. Spotting a fire extinguisher next to them, again with his uncanny sense of awareness, he raised the machine gun in the man's hand and pulled the trigger, shooting the canister and spraying the pressurized foam over the officers. Grabbing the gun, Jack got up and started running for the crowd of people heading for the exit. Knowing there was no way he was going to get through them without being noticed, he saw a window next to the doors. "Get back!" He shouted as he sprayed the window with gunfire, shattering it and allowing him a way through. He was now suddenly out in the streets of New York, right outside of Columbus Circle. Hearing sirens in the distance, Jack knew he had to leave. Looking around at the number of vehicles parked outside, he saw the one he needed. Walking up to a red and grey motorcycle, he aimed the gun at the driver. "Sorry, I need your bike." He said, and the driver put his hands up quickly, running away as fast as he could. Throwing the machine gun away, Jack got on the bike and revved the engine, popping the clutch as he sped off from the scene.

Steering out onto the main streets, he was glad he picked the bike, since it made it easier to weave through traffic. Suddenly, he heard the sirens getting louder, and he looked into the rearview mirror to see that there must have been at least 5 cop cars behind him. He took solace in the fact that at least his bike was faster, and he could outrun them. Suddenly, he felt something whiz by his ear, accompanied by a popping noise from behind him. Seeing a windshield on a parked car shatter next to him, Jack realized the cops were shooting at him. Now he was more confused than ever. Sure, he was armed and dangerous, but there were way too many people out here. The cops would never shoot if there was a chance of civilian casualties. Which means these weren't ordinary cops. Knowing that he had to lose them, he dodged the bike in and out of traffic, hearing horns around him and cars swerving out of the way. The cops were managing to keep up, when Jack saw an intersection in front of him. Once again, time seemed to slow down, and he had a heightened sense of things, and could see the entire intersection in his mind's eye. Something interested him to the far right, and Jack knew what he had to do.

Speeding up, Jack reached around and pulled the pistol out of the back of his pants. Once he was almost halfway through the intersection and running a red light, Jack put his plan into action. Raising the pistol, he pulled the trigger over and over again until one of the bullets found its target. On the far right side of the intersection, coming from the road, was a large semi truck, carrying a trailer behind it. The bullet that Jack fired struck its front left tire, flattening it and making the truck swerve from the sudden loss of traction. The weight that the truck was no doubt carrying eventually made it tip over, skidding across the intersection, but giving Jack enough time to speed by on the bike before the road was blocked entirely. Jack could hear the sounds of skidding tires and crashing cars as his plan managed to actually work. Turning off the street, Jack knew he had to ditch the bike and find a place to hide while the heat died down. It wasn't until Jack got off and put the bike behind a dumpster, that he realized that he'd never ridden a motorcycle in his life until now.