Dont Be a Hero

Long Lost

   Tyrone awoke from a deep sleep. He had been dreaming. It hadn't been pleasant. His dream evaded his recollection, so he gave up trying to remember it and got out of bed. Something caught the corner of his eye and he looked over to see the girl. The one who had been haunting him. She was staring at him.

"You shouldn't be appearin' in a man's bedroom, you know." He spoke to her as he pulled on his pants. He still had a light sheen of sweat glistening over his dark skin, caused by the horrible dream he couldn't remember.

"I used to watch you sleep," she said to him, smiling at some distant memory. "You used to make me feel safe at night."

His brow furrowed and he stopped dressing. "What do you mean, you used to watch me sleep? What are you, da ghost of my mama?"

"No, Tyrone. I am not your mama."

"Well, why won't you tell me who you are? I am tired of dis game you play. Are you a spirit?"

"Soon, brother. Very soon you will know the truth. Be patient, you are not ready."

"What truth? What do you mean, brother?"

She began to fade. "I love you Ty." Her last words a whisper that seemed to carry through the room on a breeze.

"Damned women," he muttered to himself.

He had much to do. His boss had never returned and no one had heard from him. Everyone was in an uproar. Business had pretty much ground to a halt. Natasha would likely have taken things in hand, but she was M.I.A. as well, although they at least had an idea as to what happened to her. Harley Chase, however, had seemingly vanished into thin air. The most annoying part of it was that Tyrone felt like there were clues locked in his memories. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to dig them out.

He was frustrated and worried. He didn't know any other kind of work and he had worked hard and moved up the ranks with Harley fast. He couldn't imagine starting on the bottom rung again. Working for someone else. Whether it was criminal activity or legit, he would have to start out low again. His only work experience was his job with Harley Chase and he couldn't very well explain his duties on a resume. As for any other criminal organizations, Harley was pretty much "it" in the immediate area. He ran just about everything.

Tyrone went to his kitchen to make something for breakfast. He opened the refrigerator to take out milk and eggs and froze. There on the top shelf was a potato with a photo sticking out of it. The potato had a small blade stabbed into it. He plucked the photo out of it and held it up. It was a picture of him, sleeping soundly in his bed, and there was a gloved hand holding the same blade to his throat. It wasn't touching him but it was close enough to send a chill down his spine.

He turned the photo over and on the back, written in black felt, were the words "Get lost". That was it. He pondered the message, trying to imagine who it was that wanted him to "get lost". He shrugged. Probably one of Harley's employees who thought they deserved to step into Harley's shoes.

Tyrone wouldn't be surprised if Harley had left him in charge. He seemed to trust Tyrone more than anyone else. There would definitely be one or two people who would be upset. People who had been around longer. He decided to let it roll off his back. He would have a security alarm installed immediately. He had been meaning to do so anyways. Maybe he would get a dog. One thing he did know, though, was that he had no interest in taking over Harley's business. 

......................

Jackson came around slowly at first, and then all at once he was wide awake. There was a cool mist spraying into his face and he shook his head back and forth. "Quit it. QUIT IT!" he growled.

"I beg your pardon, Detective Wolfe, but we need you to be awake and alert right now." The car's electronic voice brought him back to the reality of where he was.

He opened his eyes and sat up, looking around him. He saw they were still moving. "How long was I out?"

"Only for a moment, sir. I revived you immediately. I didn't relish the idea of your other half waking up in your place and having to try to explain everything to him, as well. One at a time is enough for me to handle." Orion let out another small chuckle causing Jackson's eyebrow to shoot up.

"You've got quite a sense of humor for a machine," he remarked and then grinned his lopsided grin.

"I supposed I'll take that as a compliment."

"Well! We're almost into the city," Jackson stated, looking around at the landscape. "I say we go directly to the heart of these assholes and light 'em up. I mean, I'm pretty much dead, one way or the other. Might as well go down taking a few of them with me." He patted his gun.

"Well, now. That doesn't sound like a very optimistic outlook, Detective."

"What is there to be optimistic about? I've got government dogs chasing me because they've turned me into a killing machine. One they want to keep control of. I can't see myself lasting long. If the government doesn't take me out, the cops will."

"You lost consciousness before I was able to finish explaining things to you, sir. There is more."

"I really don't know how it could get any worse, but alright. Tell me."

"Well, your ability is unique. It allows you to see inside of the people you touch, instantly giving you the information on them you need in order to know whether they are good or evil. Most people are a mixture of both, but there are people running around out there with not a drop of goodness in them. All they do is hurt other people. Many of them get arrested because they become stupid or lazy. Some of them completely escape punishment, though. Some, if allowed to continue, will do so much damage in their lifetime that it will amount to massive amounts of psychiatric issues, injuries, and deaths for innocent people. That is who you go after when you are "Father Time", Jackson. You have only ever killed people who are pure evil."

"And that is supposed to make it okay?"

"I suppose it depends upon who is giving the okay."

"Why would the government be interested in some vigilante retribution shit? Their agenda usually isn't the elimination of evil. The government pretty much is evil."

"That's something you might want to ask her."

Jackson wasn't paying attention to where they were going and his head shot up in surprise. They had pulled up in front of a building that stood pretty much by itself, with the exception of a couple of much smaller ones on the same property. They were in the middle of nowhere.

"Where the hell are we? This isn't the city!"

He looked out through the passenger side window and saw the bottom half of a woman standing there. He couldn't see her face.

"Trust me, Detective. This is where you need to be. You'll get all the answers you need right here."

"Who is she?" He nodded his head toward the legs standing outside of the passenger window.

"Get out and look for yourself. You are safe here, Jackson."

The door opened and Jackson slowly got out of the car. He was stiff from sitting there for so long. He stretched and then turned to greet the woman standing on the other side and when his eyes fell on her face, he froze. The world stood still. His head began to swim and he felt like he was going to float away.

"Hello Jackson," she said, smiling. There were tears in her eyes.

"Lillian!"

 Edited.

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