Average Joe and the Extraordinaires by Belart Wright Read Free Book Online Page A

dream. He was sure he’d
never see nor hear of or from Dahlila.  Now Borland was tossing that name out
like he knew the woman.
    Joe:
“Blonde hair?”
    Borland:
“Where did you see her?”
    Joe
paused.  He didn’t want to put Dahlila in any danger, and he remembered how he
found her, all tied up in the underground part of that stadium.  Who put her
there?  Joe’s face must’ve given away his thoughts, because Borland pursued the
subject more aggressively.
    Borland:
“Listen, kid, Dahlila is important to me.  Please!  Tell me where she is.”
    Joe: “How
is she important to you?  Answer that for her sake.”
    Borland
pulled out an old and worn-out wallet, and in it sat an old and worn-out
photo.  Borland took out the photo and showed it to Joe. 
    Borland:
“That little girl there is Dahlila when she was younger.  I helped raise her. 
She’s as precious as my own daughter.  I need to know where she is.  Please,
tell me where she is!”
    Borland
pleaded his case, not only with his words but with his eyes as well.
    Joe had
sympathy for the man, and felt he could trust him.  He told Borland about
everything except the shape-shifting, because he hardly believed it himself. 
Borland was ready at the end of his tale with questions.
    Borland:
“Do you know where the girls were headed?”
    Joe: “I
don’t.  We were separated.”
    Borland:
“I see.  What about the little girl’s name?  Do you remember it?”
    Joe: “Her
name was Melissa.”
    There was
a flash of recognition in Borland’s eyes and he whispered, “That’s good,” so
low that Joe could barely hear him.
     

 
    Chapter
10
    Then
Who's Protecting Me?
     
    Joe wanted
to know what Borland’s next move was going to be, but the old man was focusing
intently on something and Joe had only now begun to figure out what that was. 
A pair of nearly inaudible footsteps was nearing them.  They were slow and
cautious, most likely to avert attention, but that had only made them more
noticeable to Borland and Joe.
    There was
a lull in the footsteps when they seemed near enough to the doorway.  Borland
and Joe sat in complete silence.  After a few more moments, the silence became
unbearable and Borland broke it.
    Borland:
“Anybody there?  Don’t be shy.”
    A man
emerged from the door looking sickly.  He stood by the door hesitantly and was sweating
bullets.
    Borland:
“Murphy, right?”
    The man
looked startled at Borland’s question.
    Borland:
“Carl should’ve mentioned that he and I had an arrangement.”
    The
strange officer and Borland stared at each other for a moment, and when the
officer didn’t respond Borland spoke up.
    Borland:
“I’m almost done here.  Would you mind waiting outside?”
    BANG!!!
    Joe had
seen the man reach for something, but only after the shot did he register what
it was.  What was most surprising to Joe was that he was still alive.  The man had
been looking dead at him, Joe could swear it.  He didn’t know what the heck was
happening.  He was flat on his back and looking up at the gunman.  He felt a
dull pain at the back of his head and was disoriented.  Borland, who had been at
his side only seconds ago, was now gone.  With a teary-eyed and desperate look
on his face, the gunman pointed his pistol dead at Joe.  Joe knew what awaited
him, and knew he couldn’t escape it.  He expected the split second of pain from
the hot lead juxtaposed by the eternity of cold unlife. 
    He looked
up and blinked, then saw Borland on top of the gunman.  The gun soared through
the air, and an instant later Borland stood over the man as he slumped down to
the floor.  Borland grabbed the man’s own handcuffs and cuffed him with them. 
He screamed at Joe.
    Borland:
“Don’t just lie down there!  Get your sorry butt off the ground!”
    Joe could
hear an engine roaring loudly in the distance.  The roar came back three times,
louder and louder each time.  After that, he heard tires screeching and
vibrations