The Samaritan Cometh
Part 5: Knight Rise
By Brian Lewis a.k.a Red Vector
I’m a man who shouldn’t exist; in fact eight months ago I existed only on paper and in
the mind of a terminally ill aspiring comic artist. In a way I still don’t understand, I
became “real” flesh and blood. I have memories that are not my own. And I possess
abilities that “normal” human beings don’t have, abilities that I have used to do some
really bad things to some really bad people. This has put me in the crosshairs of a
powerful and secretive organization that bags and tags special people, an organization
willing to kill their own to keep their secrets. I’ve run afoul of their bag and tag teams
several times and come out on top, by putting them either in the hospital or the
morgue.
And if that’s not enough the police and the FBI seem to take my activities as the acts of
a “dangerous and possibly psychotic individual with a twisted sense of justice.” At
least that’s the way I’m referred to in the press, by some. By others I’m called a hero. I
guess one man’s hero is another man’s psychotic.
The Last Chance Diner is nearly deserted; as I enter I adjust the wrap around
sunglasses and pull the ragged baseball cap down a little lower. From all appearances
I’m just another drifter just passing through on his way to nowhere in particular. I sit
down at the serving counter and place the large black duffle bag at my feet within easy
reach. The waitress is distracted; watching the news of my most recent adventure on
the television above the serving counter. An eyewitness is being interviewed:
“Man I never saw anything like it. We were held in that bank for like six hours. This guy
comes out of nowhere and does what a whole SWAT team and half the police and FBI
couldn’t do.” The UPS driver tells the Fox News reporter.
“What did he do?” the reporter asks.
“He slaughtered them; he took out six men with machine guns like they were nothing.”
The driver replies. “The freaky part was that they hit him with enough lead to drop a
rhino, not only did it not stop him he seemed to get off on it. It was like the Terminator
on crack or something.”
“He had a vest on, right?” the reporter asks with thinly disguised skepticism in her
voice.
“No that’s just it, he didn’t,” he replies. “When it was over just before the SWAT team
came in I saw the front of his shirt was shredded from the bullets. He walked right pass
me and vanished into the shadows, I didn’t see no vest.”
“Sir, we need you come downtown to give a more detailed statement.” A voice off
camera says, as a man’s hand clamps down on the driver’s shoulder and pulls him out
of camera range. The camera pans over to a heavyset man with black hair escorting
the driver to an unmarked police car.
“Lieutenant Parkman you’re one of the leads on the Samaritan case. What’s your take
on what happened today?” The reporter queries, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“No comment!” was his angry retort.
“That’s the same report they showed yesterday.” The waitress says, as she reaches up
to turn down the volume. As she turns toward me, I see she’s attractive in her mid-
thirties with red hair and striking green eyes. Looking at her name tag, I see that her
name is Madeline.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you come in. What can I get you?” Madeline asks.
“It’s ok, I get that a lot.” I reply. “I’ll have coffee, black, bacon, sausage, three eggs and
waffles.”
“Tommy, one Lumberjack Special!” she yells to the cook through the pass through. I
can only see the cook from the shoulders up. From what can I see he’s an older heavy
set man with a salt and pepper beard.
“What do you make of this Samaritan character?” Madeline asks as she sets the cup
down and pours the coffee. I notice the absence of a wedding ring on her finger. She’s
probably widowed or recently divorced.
“I think he’s a nut job who’s compensating for being short changed by Mother Nature.”
I reply, as I down half the cup.
“That coffee’s not too hot for you?” she asks with a curious expression on her face. “I
keep telling Tommy that the coffee maker makes the coffee too hot and that he’s gonna
get sued if doesn’t get it replaced.”
“Hot things don’t bother me.” I reply. Hot coffee or hot lead among other things, I think
to myself.
While I wait Madeline and I have a few minutes of pleasant conversation, which is
something I don’t get to have very often. Most of my conversations are usually
punctuated by violence and death. Well, ok all of them are usually punctuated by
violence and death.
“Order up.” Tommy says in a rough voice, as he hands Madeline my order.
“Here you go, one Lumberjack Special” Madeline says as she sets the massive plate of
food down in front of me. “I’ve seen bigger guys than you not be able to finish one.”
“I think I can manage.” I say. I manage quite well, hey even heroes and psychotics have
to eat.