Hero Go Home

Previously: Digger and Twain have escaped the police in Twain’s van. Twain has a plan that involves sticking it to the man, or maybe something else that rhymes. Meanwhile…

“No, Digger does not present a danger to the public,” Flexo said. Across from him in the interrogation room sat two detectives, Grayson and Merrick. Who knew how many people were watching behind the mirror. “If anything, the public is safer now than before he robbed the bank.”

“And what do you base that on?” Merrick asked.

“He can’t use his Drillers,” Flexo said.

“Why can’t he?”

“Because there’s this hostage with a bomb collar around his neck that will go off if Digger uses his Drillers,” Flexo said. “It’s the reason he robbed the bank.”

“You mean it’s the excuse he gave for robbing the bank,” Grayson corrected.

“He wasn’t lying,” Flexo said.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Flexo confirmed.

“Based on what?” Grayson asked.

“Based on the fact that he didn’t use them while he was fighting me,” Flexo said.

“Because you were that much of a challenge,” Grayson said.

Flexo had to admit, Grayson had a point. he hadn’t presented Digger much of a challenge. “If he could’ve used them, he would have,” Flexo said.

Merrick shrugged. “Well, ultimately, it doesn’t really matter what you think his reasons might have been,” he said. “But we would sure appreciate it if you would listen to this recording and tell us if this is Digger’s voice.”

“Sure,” Flexo said.

Merrick pulled a digital voice recorder from his jacket, pressed the play button, and set it on the table. A tinny voice sounded from the player’s tiny speaker.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”

“I’m on my way to rob a bank.”

“Excuse me? Did you say you were going to rob a bank?”

“MCP National downtown. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes, give or take. Send cops.”

“Wait, you’re telling me ahead of time that you’re going to rob a bank?”

“I have no choice. There’s this hostage, see…”

A click and a pause, then…

“Sorry, I can’t talk any more.”

“Did you say you’re holding hostages in the bank?”

“No, I’m… Long story. Look, just send cops, okay? This sucks.”

Merrick stopped the recording. “Well?”

Flexo was thoughtful. “Yeah, that was him all right. Damn, he was serious.”

“Serious about what?” Grayson asked.

“Huh? Oh, he, uh, used the code.”

“What code?” Merrick asked.

“This sucks,” Flexo said. “”It’s a code phrase he uses.”

“Code for what?”

“Uh, hard to say,” Flexo said. “But it was basically, civilians are in danger, so let’s pretend to retreat or give up or whatever until the civilians are clear, and then we’ll kick some ass.”

“So you think this code confirms his story about the hostage?” Merrick asked.

“Yeah,” Flexo said. “I feel kind of sorry for the guy doing this. Because although he may think he’s got Digger completely dominated, every word out of Digger’s mouth comes with an asterisk that says, ‘And then I’m going to kick your ass.’”

“Sounds like everything he says is about ass kicking,” Grayson joked.

Flexo spread his hands. “He’s not a complicated guy.”

What is Twain’s plan? What other surprises does his van contain? Whose ass will Digger kick? Be here next week for another exciting chapter, plus a special Halloween surprise!

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Previously: Digger and Twain are making their getaway from the police in Twain’s van. And now…

“So where are we going?” Digger asked once they were inside the van and driving. Although it looked like a 70’s seduction machine on the outside, the van’s interior was anything but romantic. The seat were plush and comfortable, but the back was lined with cabinets and wardrobes.

“Actually, I was going to ask you that,” Twain said. “Where did you drop off the money from the bank robbery?”

“Why do you want to know?” Digger asked.

“Because I want to put a tracker in with the money,” Twain said.

“Are you crazy?” Digger asked. “There’s no place to hide one, except the phone, and he’ll probably be getting rid of that.”

“It doesn’t go in the phone,” said Twain. “It goes in the money.”

“What?”

“It’s flat, same size as a dollar bill,” said Twain. “And it’s passive. That big flat surface is like an antenna, and as long as it’s within range of a cell tower, I can ping it. But until I do, it’s inert, so a bug sweeper won’t detect it. They can only detect it if they pull it out and look at it.”

“Which they’ll do when they count the money,” Digger said.

“There are bundles in there, aren’t they?” Twain asked. “Banded bundles?”

Digger nodded.

Twain pulled to a stop at a red light. He stared at the light as he spoke. “That means the bank already counted it with a machine. No need for them to count it again, just launder it And you might want to keep your face covered. There are cameras at all these stoplights.”

“Right,” Digger said. He pulled up his hood. “But what good does it do us to track the money if they give it away? Besides, I thought you already knew who was behind this.”

“I know who, I don’t know where or why,” Twain said. “But if I set my system to ping the money every ten minutes or so, I can track the money’s movements–where it goes, how long it stays in any one place. And the places where it stays are places that will give us clues. So where is it?”

Digger told him the address, and a few minutes later, they were pulling up to the abandoned station. Twain turned and opened a cabinet that looked like it was designed to hold small parts. He pulled out something flat and green that looked something like a twenty dollar bill, only more rigid and with a faint plastic sheen. “Wait here,” Twain said. “This won’t take long.”

“Money’s in the dumpster out back,” Digger said.

Digger watched  as Twain disappeared around the back of the building. He reappeared less than a minute later, looking unhappy. He got in the van and tossed the tracker on the dash. “They moved fast,” he said. “Money’s already gone.”

“So what now?” Digger asked. “Go to the police?”

“Course not,” Twain said. “This was just a back-up plan, anyway. Now we do the real plan.”

What is the real plan? Be here tomorrow for the next exciting episode!

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Previously: Digger and Twain are on the run from the police. Twain has a plan to clear Digger’s name. Unfortunately, it seems to involve theft. Hmm. And now…

“Wait a second,” Digger said. “You think I’m going to help you steal something?”

“Yes,” Twain said. “Something that will help you save that hostage’s life. Trust me, you’re going to need it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I know who’s behind your set-up,” Twain said. “And you don’t have a prayer of standing up to him otherwise.”

“Who is he?” Digger asked.

“I’ll tell you when we’re out of here. My van’s near the bus station. See you there.” Twain turned to head down the stairs, but Digger grabbed his arm.

“You better show up,” Digger said.

Twain shook his arm free. “I will. I want to get back at him as much as you do, trust me.”

“Never.”

Twain headed down the stairs, and a moment later, Digger sprang up the three flights to the roof. He emerged into afternoon sunlight and crept cautiously to the edge of the roof to peer down at the street below.

He’d expected to see police cars pulling up, but there was nothing. Were they not even going to try to catch him?

Maybe not. He’d already eluded them after leaving the bank, leaping from rooftop to rooftop and cutting through the insides of buildings to evade helicopter pursuit. They must have figured by now that they couldn’t catch him. But they wouldn’t just let him get away, would they?

No. First, they would call in a local hero to round him up. That was Flexo. So now, their next move would be to call in a specialist like Hound Dog or a regional heavy hitter like…

He wasn’t sure who they’d call. Maybe the Red Shadow out of New Orleans. He was tough enough to give Digger a hard fight, but he normally stuck to occult cases in his home town. He might not want to come all the way to Texas for a simple bank robbery, even one committed by a superhero.

Digger spotted Twain’s red hoodie in the street below and leaped across the street in the general direction of the bus station. He crouched at the edge of the roof and looked down to watch Twain again. If Twain headed in the opposite direction, the partnership was over. Digger would turn Twain in and work with the police against the kidnapper, whoever he was.

But to Digger’s amazement, Twain actually went where he said he would. Ten interminable minutes later, Twain was unlocking a black van parked a couple of blocks away from the bus station. It had red mag wheels and a Frazetta-style mural of a cavewoman riding a saber-toothed tiger on the side. Digger dropped into an alley nearby and waved Twain over.

“Are you kidding me?” Digger asked. “This is your ride?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Twain asked.

“Shouldn’t it be, I don’t know, inconspicuous?”

“Not my style,” Twain said. “Hide in plain sight, that’s what I say.”

Digger shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I’ll regret this.”

Will Digger regret this? Be here tomorrow for the next exciting episode!

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Previously: Digger has agreed to accept Twain’s help when the police arrive. So Digger picks up Twain and throws him. Huh? And now…

Twain sailed through the air and smashed through a second floor window. Digger followed less than a second later, but swung up and stuck to the ceiling to avoid landing on his new partner. They were in someone’s office.

“Ahh, damn it!” Twain yelled, holding a hand to his head. His face and hands bore cuts from broken glass, and blood streamed out from under his hand. Blood spattered the desk and floor.

“Sorry,” Digger said above the sounds of gunfire from the mall below. He dropped lightly to the floor. “You should probably switch to your other clothes until we get you someplace you can clean up.”

“You think?” Twain asked. He blurred momentarily, and suddenly the sweaty suit was gone, replaced by baggy jeans and a hoodie. Twain pulled his hand away from his forehead; both the cuts and the blood were gone, except for the bit that had dripped. “Was that really necessary?”

“No,” Digger admitted. “Think of it as bonus points. Let’s go.”

“I should have taken my chances with the police,” Twain said.

“You still can,” Digger said. When Twain just shook his head, Digger added, “What’s your plan?”

Twain shrugged. “Ditch the man, then get to my van.”

“Did you mean for that to rhyme?”

“You rhymed,” said Twain. “I was just trying to keep up.”

Digger shook his head and stepped out into the hallway. He ran into a tall woman just about to step into the room, probably the office’s owner. She looked down at him, momentarily confused. “What are you…?” she started to ask.

Twain shoved past them both, dressed in his suit and clutching his bleeding head wound, while also coincidentally covering his face. “Maniac just crashed in through the window,” he groaned. He stumbled off down the hall. “Call security.”

Digger pushed past the confused woman and caught up to Twain around the corner by the stairs. Twain was once again in his hoodie. “Pretty convincing, huh?”

“Get in here,” Digger said and shoved him into the stairwell.

Twain pulled his hood up over his head. “I’m thinking we should probably split up.”

“No way,” Digger said. “You’d just disappear again.”

“How am I going to disappear? You know both my outfits,” Twain said. “I can slip by the police on the street. They’re looking for Digger with a man in a suit. I’m not on their radar. But I can’t keep up with you, and I’m not letting you throw me or carry me. I only have two heads, and you’re not cutting up this one.”

“How do I know you won’t tell me to meet you in one place, then go the other direction?” Digger asked.

“Do you remember Roswell?” Twain asked. “When you helped me steal the mask of El Coco?”

“Was that what it was called?” Digger asked. “Goofy name. And I didn’t help you steal it. You tricked me.”

“Potayto, potahto,” Twain said. “The point is, I need the same kind of help now.”

What kind of help does Twain need? Join us tomorrow for the next exciting episode!

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Previously: Digger was forced to rob a bank by a mysterious Voice who has further nefarious plans for him. Digger has tracked down Twain, who aided in the set-up,  to try to get to the bottom of things. And now…

“Tell me who he is and where I can find him,” Digger said, “and I’ll try to help you cut a deal with the cops.”

“No way,” Twain said. “Put you on his trail with those things on your arms and a bomb on my chest? Are you crazy? One of you would kill me! Maybe both!”

“It’s not going to work otherwise,” Digger said.

“Yes, it is,” Twain countered. “I have a plan.”

“No.” Digger shook his head. “Your plans always end up with me getting humiliated while you get away with the loot.”

“Yeah, but that’s the point,” Twain said. “Getting away with the loot means my plans work.”

“And the humiliation?”

Twain shrugged. “Bonus points. Besides, isn’t it worth a little humiliation to save that guy’s life?”

Flexo grabbed Digger’s arm. “You can’t be seriously considering this,” he said. “The cops are almost here. Tell them the story, and you can work with them to find the hostage.”

“Won’t work,” Twain said. “I’m your only lead, and I won’t help if you turn me over to the cops.”

“You’d rather go to prison?” Flexo asked.

“I’m not going to prison,” Twain said with a tiny smile. Once again, Digger was struck by Twain’s tone. It was neither defiance nor bravado, but a simple statement of fact, as if he were saying his name or how old he was. Why was he so confident?

“Fine,” Digger said after a moment. “Deal. What do we do?”

“I’ll tell you after we get away from here,” Twain said.

“Too late,” Flexo said, looking off to the side. He nodded. “Cops are here.”

Digger turned and looked in the direction of Flexo’s nod. Sure enough, there were a number of S.W.A.T. officers in body armor spreading out and beginning a cautious approach. He turned back to Flexo. “We’re going. Explain things to the cops.”

“Are you crazy?” Flexo asked. “They’ll charge me as an accessory!”

“No, they won’t.” Digger said. “Just tell them you tried to stop us, but couldn’t. It’s true, you know.”

Flexo considered a moment, then said, “Okay, fine.” Then he leaped forward and punched Digger across the jaw, knocking him down.

Digger rolled to his feet. The S.W.A.T. guys across the mall had dropped into firing crouches, and were advancing by bounds. “What the hell was that for?”

Flexo shrugged. “Had to make it look convincing. You know, now that I think of it, I should probably make it look a little more convincing than that.”

He aimed a kick at Digger’s jaw, but Digger was prepared this time. He blocked it and lunged forward with a kick of his own. Flexo’s rubbery body added extra distance to the kick. The S.W.A.T. guys shouted for Digger to freeze, and one fired a canister of tear gas that landed nearby. Digger didn’t mind; the spreading white cloud would disguise Digger’s action, aiding their getaway. He turned to Twain. “Time to go.”

Then he grabbed Twain and threw him.

What will happen next? Be here tomorrow for the next exciting episode of Run, Digger, Run!

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Previously: Digger took the money from the bank to an abandoned service station, where the mysterious Voice told him he would be ordered to kill a foreign leader in seven days. And now…

The red button was almost certainly some kind of memory wipe or self-destruct. If Digger didn’t push it, he might have the phone analyzed and divine some clue to the Voice’s identity.

No. For all he knew, the phone was programmed to send a signal that the button had been pushed. If the Voice didn’t receive that signal, he might kill the hostage, whoever he was. Digger shook his head and pushed the button. As he’d figured, the screen told him that a message had been sent, then the phone began to reformat itself, erasing everything.

Who was the hostage, anyway? Surely he couldn’t just be someone picked off the street entirely at random. He had to have some connection to the Voice, somehow. If Digger could figure out a way to identify the hostage, it might lead him to the kidnapper. Except that he had no clues at all.

The screen blanked as the phone finished its work and wiped out the rest of the memory.  Digger briefly considered popping the back off the phone and pulling the SIM card–maybe Dr. Jolt could get some usable information off of it–but dismissed the idea. If the Voice checked the phone and found the SIM card missing, it could put the hostage in danger. Digger dropped the phone in the bag with the money and dropped the bag into the dumpster out back.

Digger would have to find another way to track down the Voice. In the meantime, he decided to pay a visit to Buddy Buckle,or Twain, or whatever his name was. If he couldn’t save the hostage today, he could at least get a little payback. He took to the rooftops for another trip downtown. Jeez, downtown again. Would he spend the next seven days just running back and forth between downtown and the airport? He was already tired of it, and not smelling great.

That could work to his advantage, though. If he wanted to get close to Buckle without tipping him off, Digger would need a disguise, a way to keep people from looking at him too closely. And the best way to keep people from looking too closely was to become someone they didn’t want to look at.

He paused in his trip downtown to steal a tarp covering some lumber at a construction site. He ripped a hole in it so he could wear it like a poncho, hiding the Drillers. Between his body odor, the moldy tarp, and the limp he affected, people assumed he was homeless or a nut and averted their eyes as he walked through the bus station. Televisions around the station were showing footage of him shooting the pistol in the bank along with a graphic that said, “Former Hero Robs Bank.”

Suddenly a loud alarm sounded, like a thousand giant baby birds tweeting. Digger turned, saw a cloud of smoke coming from a locker. And there was Buckle. His eyes met Digger’s, and he turned to flee.

Now you can go back to the first chapter again and read forever in an infinite loop. Or you can join us next week to find out what happens in the next exciting chapter of Run, Digger, Run!

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Previously: The Voice on the Phone told Digger that the hostage would not be released until Digger made an attempt on the life of a foreign leader in one week’s time. And now…

“There is no way I’m going to assassinate a foreign leader for you,” Digger said, “no matter how many hostages you take.”

“Well, actually I said ‘attempt to kill,’ not assassinate,” said the Voice. “You could fail. And let’s not make definitive statements about what will or won’t happen in a week until said week has gone by.”

“It won’t make a difference,” Digger said.

“It will make all the difference,” asserted the Voice.

“How do I know you won’t go back on your word again?” Digger asked. “Decide to keep him another week or longer?”

“You don’t,” said the Voice. “Although to be fair, I went back on nothing. The only promise I made was to kill him if you failed to follow orders. I said nothing about letting him go.”

“It was implied.”

“No, it was assumed, and you know what happens when you assume,” said the Voice.

“I make an ass of you and me,” Digger said.

“Actually, I was going to say you set yourself up for disappointment, but way to reach for the cliche,” said the Voice. “We’re done for now. Put the phone on speaker.”

Digger did so. “Okay.”

“Now scroll down the apps till you see the big red button.”

He scrolled down the list until a red button that said “PUSH ME” appeared on his screen. “Got it.”

“Don’t push it yet,” warned the Voice. “As soon as this call ends, you will push the red button, drop the phone in the bag with the cash, and leave it all in the dumpster out back. Then just walk away and wait for me to contact you in a week.”

“How will I hear from you?”

“You’ll find out in a week.”

Digger looked up toward the motion sensor in the corner. The LED blinked red as it registered the motion. “You know that I will hunt you down and hurt you, right?”

“That’s no way to talk to a man who’s about to give you a gift,” said the Voice.

“What gift?” Digger asked.

“Jeff Twain,” said the Voice. “You might know him as Buddy Buckle.”

Digger tensed. “What about him?”

“I can tell you where he is,” said the Voice. “Or rather, where he’ll be in a half-hour.”

“Where?”

“Bus station downtown,” said the Voice.

“He’s taking a bus?”

“Maybe,” said the Voice. “But mainly, he’s picking up payment for services rendered.”

“What services?”

“Drugging your drink and knocking you out in the alley,” said the Voice. “Then he brought you to me. What else?”

“And what do you expect me to do with this information?” Digger asked.

“Whatever you want.”

“Don’t you still need him?” asked Digger.

“I only needed him to get you,” said the Voice. “And now, I’ve got you. Do what you will. Oh, and push the button now.”

The call clicked off. Digger’s finger hovered over the red button icon. Did he really want to do this? This phone was his only link to the kidnapper.

Join us tomorrow for the next exciting episode!

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Previously: Digger robbed a bank and ran away just before the police arrived. And now…

Digger dropped warily to the ground outside his destination: an abandoned gas station in a virtually deserted part of town just a little south and east of where he had awakened just about an hour ago. He checked the time on the phone. He had cut it a little too close; he only had 45 seconds left.

He sprinted across the street and ducked into the alley between the back of the gas station and the wooden picket fence separating it from the abandoned motel next door. The back door was heavy gauge steel. Digger pondered it for a moment.

Though he was certainly not in the league of the really strong supers like Rev or Valkyrie Princess, the legs that enabled Digger to make 50-foot leaps also gave him quite a kick. And since his clinging ability allowed him to plant his back foot firmly in almost any situation, he could use his strength to its maximum efficiency.

He took up a position in front of the door and prepared to kick. If it was merely dead-bolted, he had a pretty good chance of busting it open, but if it was secured with an iron bar, this could really hurt.

Then again, he was expected.

He tried the knob. It was unlocked.

Inside, the abandoned station was stuffy and hot. he fought the urge to sneeze against the reek of old motor oil under a thick layer of dust. A red LED winked at him from a high corner, and in Digger’s pocket, the phone rang.

The LED blinked again as Digger reached for the phone. He froze, watching the light in the corner. The LED went out. Digger waited. The light stayed out through two more rings and winked on immediately when he moved his hand to grab the phone on the fourth.

Motion sensors. That’s how he knew I was awake before.

Digger had no idea what he would do with the information, but was proud of himself for figuring it out as he answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Took you long enough,” said the Voice.”Trying to figure out a way to fool the sensors and set a trap for me?”

“Just looking for the hostage,” Digger said, taking in the rest of the empty room. “I thought we were supposed to trade.”

“Thinking has never been your strong suit,” said the Voice. “You should stick to blowing things up.”

“But you’ve fixed it so I can’t, can I?” asked Digger.

“That’s right,” said the Voice, and Digger could swear he was having to fight to keep from laughing out loud. “But I can’t let the gentleman go just yet. I’ll be keeping him in my custody for seven more days.”

“What?”

“You still have work to do,” said the Voice. “This was just a warm-up.”

“Warm up for what?” Digger asked. “Robbing a mint?”

“Nothing so mundane,” said the Voice. “You are going to cause a major international incident by attempting to kill the leader of another country.”

Join us tomorrow for the next exciting episode!

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