Broken Steel

Chapter 4

FOUR

Andy Carlson sat alone in his small two-room apartment. He had a can of cheap beer in one hand and a large bowl of chips resting on the armchair armrest. He had lived alone since his old lady kicked him to the curb nine years ago, but he liked the quiet new life. The apartment had a seventies thing going with the outdated wallpaper and imitation furniture. Carlson was once a respected member of the community and a gym teacher at the local school, but now he was nearly two-hundred pounds of disappointment and shame.

An old cop movie with Steve McQueen was showing on a big, ancient television set. Carlson just sat there and watched while he downed half the can of beer robotically. He hadn’t chosen the program; it had come on after the last program. He wasn’t even watching it. it was noise. He hated quiet because it reminded him he was alone in the world. With a large hand of bloated fingers, he reached into the bowl, pulled out a mass of chips, and shoved them into his large maw just as a news flash came on.

It was about some escaped prisoners and the accident. Carlson watched with a little interest as it was something different than the normal game shows and old movies. He took another handful of chips, shoved them into his thin-lipped mouth, and began to crush them rather than chew. The screen changed as a reporter named the escaped men and showed recent photographs of them, so the public was aware who to be on the lookout for.

Carlson stopped chewing and sat with his eyes wide in fear. His mouth fell open in a state of shock, and half-eaten chips fell onto his stained grey sweat-suit trousers. As fear set in, he crushed the flimsy beer can, sending the rest of the liquid flowing over his left hand.

The news flash finished, and the movie came back on. Half-dazed by the news, he heaved himself up and looked around for a second, oblivious as to what to do next. His eyes shot towards the front door. As quickly as his large bulk would carry him, he headed for the door to check the locks was on, and the chain was safe across the door.

Andy Carlson breathed a sigh of relief and headed back slowly towards the kitchen, shaking his beer-soaked hand to flick off the traces of spilt liquid. He was still shaking with the shock of the news as he opened the refrigerator door and reached for a fresh beer. He took a knife that sat in a sink full of dirty plates and bowls and used it to pop the ring pull on his cold beer because his fingers were too thick to get under the tab. With a quick sound of escaping gasses and a small spray of foam, he brought the can to his lips and drank half before heading back to the sitting room.

Carlson smiled comfortably; he was safe, and he had everything he needed. As he went to retake his seat, he stopped, and the grin he wore turned sour as he noticed the bowl of chips that lay across the floor. He shrugged and, with a groan of effort, got down on his knees and started to retrieve his snack. There was a noise behind him, a snipping sound as if metal was been cut – and then there was a sudden breeze. Turning, Carlson looked into the dark corner, past the kitchen, to where the front door was. His face became red with panic, his heart beating hard in his chest. Andy started to hyperventilate; his body began to shake. With strained eyes, he waited to see who was coming for him. His blue eyes looked up, full of sorrow, and tears began to form, clouding his view.

“You … I knew you would come.” He went to scream, but the bite of a Taser rendered him unconscious. The room fell silent as the dark figure got to work on the victim.