The Enigma’s Anomaly

My feet don’t want to carry me to the car. It feels like I’m trying to walk with two broken ankles, because they keep flopping ineffectively beneath me. I look at the motel behind me where Gerard is, and I want nothing more than to go back and grab him. Maybe run away with him to Venice or something. It’s true that Gerard, means more to me than Mikey, obviously, but losing Mikey would be just as bad as losing him. If Mikey were to die in place of Gerard or I, then it would be kind of like losing Gerard, but worse.

I don’t regret what I’m doing, I really don’t, I just wish there was an alternative. I don’t want to die, no one does, not really. I want to live with Gerard and see Mikey on weekends and stuff, but that’s not an option for me now. I’d need a miracle, but I don’t think it’s the time to pray. I’ve never been one to believe in miracles anyhow.

My fingers are shaking so much I’m surprised I even manage to get the car unlocked. I’m likely to just collapse here and now.

Gerard’s going to hate me the same way I was going to hate him. I do believe, with every fiber of my being, that Gerard does have more of a purpose than I do. He does mean more than I do. He publishes a popular comic, and all I am is a washed-up assassin. I literally mean nothing compared to Gerard. If I’m a flame then he’s a bonfire, and I’m not going to let his fire die out. Not now, it’s too early for him.

I’ve had this coming to me for a long time. I don’t really deserve to have met someone so nice, but I think Gerard does deserve to live. Gerard is for all intense and purposes, a remarkable human being, and the world needs him a lot more than it needs me.

This knowledge is enough for me to stop fumbling my fingers long enough to get the keys into the lock, where I sit down and stare at the wheel for probably longer than is entirely necessary. It’s so hard to move though, knowing that this is it. Once I start this engine and take to the road, I’m as good as dead. I don’t know how long it’s going to take. Surely Banks is smart enough to get things done quickly, but just how quickly is he willing to let me die? Personally I don’t see him as the torture type, but he doesn’t like me very much so that’s always a possibility.

Fuck, when I was younger I was the kind of kid who’d push you in front of me if I thought there was a man with a chainsaw about to attack us. I would’ve sold out just about anyone if there was ever a zombie apocalypse, and I wouldn’t of thought twice about it. I was selfish, and I couldn’t have given a shit about you if it meant risking my own safety. It was always just so stupid to me, like I never believed any of that shit about people risking themselves for others. I was the guy in the horror movie who got the fuck out of the haunted house and moved somewhere else. I was the guy who yelled at the television when some guy made a heroic sacrifice, but look where I am now.

I’m driving a car onto a highway to save someone else. It’s not even fucking Gerard, it’s Mikey! On a lot of levels I am doing this for Gerard, but I’d say it’s more so for Mikey. Gerard will be alive, and that’s what I want, but it’s Mikey who I am going to save today. I believe in Mikey though. I believe he can help Gerard get over this. Part of me does hope he never gets over me, but most of me wants him to live a happy life and be grateful that I saved him. Mikey will have his brother, and that’s what matters.

Who am I to Mikey if Gerard is dead? I’m just the guy who let his brother go and get himself killed, and I don’t want to be that. If I’d let Gerard go in my place than Mikey and I would be alive and I’d never be able to look the guy in the eyes. He’s got Gerard’s eyes, maybe not as bright, but still the same. He’d know forever that I could’ve died instead of Gerard. I would be Faramir, and he Denethor. He would always wish I’d died instead, but I will do what I have to.

The day is still early, but the sun has been up for a while. It forces me to squint at the existential road in front of me. It looks so dull and boring, like I couldn’t care less about any patch of road. The sun forces me to see little puddles of water in mirage form when there actually are none, but I don’t pay them any mind. I have to think about all the things that keep me calm right now or I won’t be able to do this. The person that makes me calmest is currently stuck to a headboard and I miss him so much.

The best feeling in the world, without a doubt, better than eating your favorite meal, better than fucking, better than pissing after holding it in for way too long, is just waking up in the arms of someone you love. Waking up and feeling their warmth in the sheets around you and soaking into your own body. The way they sound breathing in deep and slow, so at peace and unafraid. The way they’ll have an arm around you, and you just know that when they move that arm you’re going to feel so alone and cold, so you make it a point to keep it there as long as you can. The way that they’ll mumble shit in their sleep, or maybe drool, or something else that isn’t typically attractive. Maybe they’ve popped a fucking boner and you feel it, but it doesn’t matter because you’re with them. What I wouldn’t give to be in Gerard’s arms right now.

I’ve said it a million times and I’ll say it a million more before I die, but I really wish, with all of my heart, soul, brain and left big toe, that none of this had ever happened. I wish I’d met Gerard under different circumstances and that I’d be able to live with him for the rest of my life, until I’m an old man, but it’s too late for that hope now. It sucks, but this is my life, or lack thereof.

Gerard had written down the instructions of where to meet on a little note and I follow them to the location. It’s almost half an hour away, but I do finally come to the road I’m supposed to. I take a deep breath, knowing that this is either about to go smoothly or something bad is about to happen.

I grab the phone from my pocket and dial the write number as quickly as I can.

“Is this your funeral procession?” Conte asks in greeting.

“I guess so,” I say.

“Rather grim,” he replies.

“You seem to be pretty chill about it,” I say.

“Well I don’t particularly care either way,” Conte replies.

“It’s lovely knowing my allies are such rays of sunshine,” I say, but I never actually thought that Conte cared about me. He’s just doing this because he owes me a favor, but I do think that some part of him agrees with the fact that Banks deserves to be taken down. He’s not the nicest guy in the world, and is in fact, wanted in seven countries, but his moral compass is straight enough to see that Banks deserves hell.

“You get what you pay for,” Conte says.

“I ain’t paying you a dime,” I reply.

“It’s an expression,” he answers.

“I don’t care what it is. It’s hard to be all happy and bright when I’m about to die,” I say, “oh shit, I think I see them.”

I see a group of people standing in the middle of the road, blocking off the way, and I gulp.

“Alright Conte, get busy tracking this phone. I can’t guarantee how long I’ll be able to give you a signal. Call the police right away when you can, because I may have tied my boyfriend to a bed-”

“Harsh,” he says.

“But call him anyway and on the off chance that he picks up, tell him to call the police as well. I want to just be sure that this bitch gets to go to jail before he has the chance to skip town,” I say.

“Will do, man. I’d say good luck, but I don’t know how much good that’ll do ya,” he says, and I stow the phone away in my shoe, because I feel like that’s the best hiding spot I’ve got.

I come to a stop in front of a group of three men, but Banks is not among them. Mikey is standing in the middle looking bored, but I do think he also looks scared. I analyze our surroundings to see that there’s nowhere for a sniper to have taken position which is ideal. I want Mikey to make it out of this alive and well. The men here probably don’t care one way or another, and my guess is that they honestly don’t care about Mikey. This makes it more likely for them to let him live rather than go through the hassle of killing us both. A big man has a gun to Mikey’s head, and his grip tells me that he’s not afraid to shoot if things go sour.

They’re standing in front of their own car, which is much bigger than this one, and I take a deep breath before I stop the engine, and throw the keys on the seat. My whole body is tense and nervous, as I turn in the seat and get the door open, after grabbing the revolver next to me. I hold it up high and point it directly at the hulking man whose gripping the gun pointed at Mikey’s head.

“Frank?” Mikey asks.

“Yeah, hey,” I say, stepping forward and slamming the door shut behind me. I walk up to stand in front of the two men, who are looking at me intently. The man with the gun is smart enough to know an experienced shooter when he sees one, and I am definitely an experienced shooter. We are both perfectly aware that the other is a good shot.

“We were told to meet a Gerard Way,” the man without the gun says, a not as bulky man with a buzz cut, possibly ex-military.

“I’m here instead. Trust me, I’m as good a prize as Gerard,” I say.

The man with the buzz cut studies me for a moment longer before putting a hand to his ear, so my guess is that he’s got an ear piece in that I can’t see from this distance. He turns his back to me, but I don’t shoot him because I know that if there are any loud noises in the next few minutes then Mikey’s brains are going to be scattered on the sidewalk without question.

“He says that the kid is right,” the man says turning to the guy holding Mikey in place. I assume that Banks told him I’m just as good a replacement for Mikey as Gerard would have been, and I sigh in relief, because that would’ve been super awkward if he’d turned me down.

“So you’ll let Mikey go now?” I say.

“That’s the deal,” the man holding him speaks up for the first time. It’s a big booming voice. He’d make a great public speaker.

“We gonna do it then? Send Mikey this way, and keep your gun on me,” I say. “I’ll do the same with my gun on you.”

“Why are you here, boy?”

“Right now you’re wondering where I learned to hold a gun, and you’re wondering why I’m here in the place of another, and I want you to put those thoughts to rest, okay? I’m here for one thing and one thing only, and that’s to save this lanky little bastard. My life doesn’t mean much to me, and even less to anyone else. I die, no one cares, but if he dies, there will be backlash, and that’s why I’m here.”

“I can trust you?” the man asks sounding skeptical.

“Look at him,” I say pointing to Mikey, “That boy has never held a gun a day in his life. His noodle arms probably wouldn’t support one. Look at me though, I know how to fire this thing. I’m alone, you can see that. All I want is for him to be safe. As soon as he gets in that car and drives away, I will put my gun down and I will not make any false moves.”

“How do I know you’re alone?” The gun wielding man says.

“I give you permission to check the car,” I say, nodding my head in that direction, “you can make sure I’m being honest, and then we trade.”

“I believe you,” he replies, and his grip on Mikey softens a little bit.

“Then release him, and let him walk to the car,” I say, and he nods his head a little bit.

Mikey looks hesitant to move, but I gesture with my finger that it’s okay. He doesn’t look very keen about any of this, but he does as he’s told, and ever so carefully takes a few steps towards me.

“Hurry it up, Mikes, or they’ll get fidgety,” I say, and Mikey gives me a hateful stare then walks a little faster until he’s just about level with me.

“Gerard let you do this?” Mikey asks.

“What’s he saying?” the buzz cut guy asks.

“I locked him to the bed. Find the hotel, get to the room, and stay there. I put the key to the handcuffs on the key ring with the car keys. Go now before they get curious,” I say, and I jerk my head quickly to tell him to go.

“What’d you say?”

“I hate you for doing this, Frank. At the same time though, thanks. Thank you for loving my brother, and thank you for saving me,” Mikey says nothing more before he’s walking away.

“I just told him where to go to find his brother,” I say, and they look nervous. My hand doesn’t twitch as I aim it at a man whose gun is on me just as firmly. I was so uneasy only minutes ago, but I always feel a little calmer with a gun in my hand. It balances me out, like an extension of my own limbs, and my breath is easy.

I hear Mikey getting into the car, and just like that the engine starts. I don’t dare turn to see what’s going on, but it sounds like he’s getting it turned around. There’s a smattering of dust being throw around in the air, and I’m pretty sure the engine noise is getting softer. I’m glad Mikey didn’t argue too much. To be perfectly honest, the bravest of men would’ve had trouble arguing, I think he handled it as well as he could. There was definite remorse in his eyes, like Mikey would really prefer the exchange never took place, but at least he didn’t get himself killed as well as me.

“Is he gone?” I ask with a gulp.

“Yep,” the big man says, and I turn my head for the first time to look, and sure enough, the road behind me is empty.

I sigh, glad that it went smoothly and look back at the men.

“Fair is fair,” I say, holding my hands up. I start slowly lowering myself down until I can set the gun on the ground. As soon as it’s resting on the pavement, I pull myself back up and kick it their way. With my hands still up, as if I’m being taken in by the cops, I let my neck fall back looking at the sun. It’s not likely that I’m going to die here and now, because I’d imagine Banks wants to be there when it happens, but I’m preparing for it just in case.

“Banks can have me then, and may god rest my soul.”