Day 210 – Half Hour Hitman – Part 11

Written in 19 minutes! I enjoy this storyline. Even I don’t know where it’s headed!

Word count: 706

The TV was blaring. Andy was absorbing the colour but barely paying attention to anything that was happening on the screen. It was weird, watching TV after all this time. Some drama was playing; he recognised a few of the actors. Andy just stared into space. The volume was down low so he wouldn’t really be able to hear it even if he did want to.

The man was out. The Half Hour Hitman. Gone to collect some shopping, apparently. Andy expected an arsenal of weapons rather than a pint of milk and a loaf of milk. He had been gone for around twenty minutes now, Andy had judged. They had been here for a few days now. It was strangely comfortable in its own way. Occasionally he could hear the neighbours banging and shouting at three in the morning after one of them had said something insensitive to the other; but everything else was calm. There were no mysterious visitors. The man, however, maintained a fixed position behind the net curtains.

The door opened, the man had returned carrying shopping bags. Andy looked up and they exchanged a weird greeting. It was of familiarity and not much else. The man took the bags through to the kitchen and started unpacking. Andy figured out that he may have bought groceries after all. He was slightly surprised and chuckled to himself.

Words ran down the screen of the TV. The drama had finished and the news was about to come on. Andy had not heard of any news in months. He was only allowed to watch the drama because the man had turned it on for him. Andy panicked, would the packing distract the man for any longer?

Andy kept quiet; fearing any kind of noise might initiate the man into realising that the news was going to be on. Andy didn’t quite know why the man would not want him to see the news – it could be about some war going on, some corrupt politician… but there was a small chance… a tiny insignificant chance… he could be on it. Though no one had come for Andy, he maintained hope that someone somewhere was still looking for him. His mum, he knew would not sleep until he was found. The police must be combing the streets. Even his mad girlfriend would be worried sick, asking all their mutual friends if they had seen him. All his friends would be searching the city for him. Would it have reached the news? It was a stupid thought, but it was a thought nonetheless. Andy grabbed on to it with both hands. It was only these little flickers of hope that kept him going.
The man came through from the kitchen and sat down, cracking himself open a can of cola and relaxing back in the moth-eaten armchair. He seemed unperturbed by the news. Andy breathed a sigh of relief as they both watched the news stories unravel. It finally went to the local news channels and Andy scoffed.

His photograph was staring back out at them both. It was an awful picture, but it was him regardless.
“Turn the volume up,” Andy demanded.
Remarkably the man complied.
Andy listened with intent to every syllable the newsreader was saying. It was April the twenty-ninth…. On-going investigation… no body… a quick clip of his mum distraught on camera: Andy felt a lump growing in his throat. This was it. This was it. It was really happening. The world knew about him. The world was looking out for him…. Then the newsreader confirmed what Andy had hoped he had misheard at the start of the article.
“Active investigations are due to cease today due to lack of evidence. Police cannot determine any criminal activities and have declared Andrew to be simply someone who does not want to be found.”
The man turned round to look at Andy, “I’m sorry kid. I had to do it.”
“Do what?”
“I had to get them off our trail. It was too dangerous.”
“But they think that – my mum –”
“I know. But it’s better this way. It’s best we’re only being hunted by one team. I’m sorry.”

~ by S.G. Mark on May 4, 2012.

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