Rush University Medical Center
Friday, October 14th
6:06 PMChicago, a beautiful place but a dangerous one to live in. The crime rate here is significantly higher then the US average. Still it was nothing compared to cities like Detroit, Memphis or Oakland, which hold the top 3. Hell, Chicago isn't even in the top 10, or top 20 for that matter. Actually statistics show it on number 24. So basically i'm living in the 24th most dangerous city in the United States, but that dosen't make me feel any better.
I'm at the Rush Medical Center, visiting my comatose girlfriend. It's been five years since that horrific night and there were still no signs of her waking up. I've been coming here for the past five years, about two or three times a week. Talking to her, holding her, praying that one day she would wake up and so we can move on with our lives. I would give anything in the world for that. I always made sure she had a bouquet of red roses, her favorite flowers, in her room, changing the ones that dried up with fresh ones. The nurses and the doctors here have come to know me very well and admire me for my love and for not leaving her in these hard times.
Some people in my case just move on with their lives and find someone else to love and cherish, but I can't do such a thing, it's not in my nature. I'll wait 20 years if I have to but i'll always be here. She has to wake up one day, especially since the doctor that takes care of her says that her body is in good shape, the only problem is that he dosen't know when she will wake up from the coma. That can happen any time, tomorow, next week or even in five years. I remember one of the nurses grabbing me by the hand last week as I was leaving and telling me how much she admires me and how much she whishes that her man was like me. I gently removed my hand from her grasp, smiled and said "thanks".
Right now the night is beginning to settle down and I need to get back to the car shop and gear up for another night of patrolling the streets. Hopefully tonight i'll get to kill another criminal scumbag, not like last night when basically nothing happened and I decided to retreat at 2 AM in the morning, because my Honda motorcycle was low on fuel. The nurse at the desk saluted me as I was heading to the exit. I saluted her back as I got out of the hospital with rain pouring down on me. "Awww this is just wonderful!" I said as I covered my head with the news paper I had in my right hand and ran to the parking lot.
After reaching the parking lot I take out the keys and open up my car, an old, turqouise,
1965 Ford Mustang Fastback. Despite customising cars for a living I decided that I want to keep this one exactly as it came out of the factory, despite not being very fond of the white and turquoise combination vinyl interior. The only change I made was that I replaced the original radio with a radio + CD player so I can listen to my music on it. I loved cars ever since I was a child, especially Ford Mustang's and always dreamed of owning one. Although these new Mustang's that Ford is making right now are absolutely great, nothing compares with these old school models. That's why there was no doubt in my mind what Mustang I wanted to purchase when I finally decided to buy one, four years ago.
As I got in the car, I threw away the water soaked newspaper and slammed the door shut as I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second and made myself comfortable on the seat. I start up the angry roaring V8 engine and as I was revving the car I take out The Blessed Hellride CD from Black Label Society and put it inside the player as the
1st track from the album started playing in the speakers.
Restoration Shop
Friday, October 14th
6:22 PMAfter I got back at the shop, which was empty and closed because everyone went home I parked outside and got in as I turned on the lights and went to a corner of the shop and pulled away the cloth that was covering my bike. As I look back at the heavy rain i'm starting to wonder whether it is a good idea or not to get out tonight. Afterall, it wouldn't hurt if i'd took a break at least for one night. My thoughts changed however after the explosion I heard. I didn't hear it very well, which meant it was pretty far away. As I run to the shop's exit I saw smoke rising up in the sky. It was coming from the South Side, an area in which I was rarely seen. But that didn't matter anymore.
I run into the office and then through another door that leads to a set of stairs that went up into my apartment. Once inside the apartment I quickly took my gear and started putting it on. There was no time to make choices on weapons so I took whatever I first layed my eyes on. With the MP5 resting on my back, the CZ-75B and the knife in their respective thigh holster and sheath, the flashlight and extra magazines in the tactical vest pockets, Red Hand was finally ready to get out and deak death on whoever decided to start the 2nd Chicago fire.
Red Hand ran back down in the shop, climbed on the bike and started it as he rode outside, stopping at the exit, climbing off the bike and closing the shop up as he ran back on his bike and rode to the location of the explosion, following the smoke in the air. He only prayed that he would get there in time to stop this nutjob, whoever he may be.
Fuller Park
Friday, October 14th
6:31 PMRed Hand's black Honda CB-1000R was a real beast, no denying. It took him to his destination in no time. He was happy he made the right choice by buying a fast, powerful and agile motorcycle for his night raids instead of a big bad car that would probably get stuck in the city's busy traffic. The choice of a Honda was absolutely random. The place was nonother then Fuller Park itself. One of the most dangerous places in Chicago. After parking the bike, Red Hand got off only to see lots of people screaming and running away. Red Hand grabs one of them by the arm and pulls him near to him.
"Hey what's going on?" He asked.
"What's going on? Some nutcase wants to blow up the entire neibourghood that's what's going on." Said the man as he let himself go of Red Hand's grip and continued to run away.
Red Hand took out his CZ-75B and headed slowly into Fuller Park. He finally caught a glimpse of the nutcase that the man spoke of. It was nonother then Demolition Derby himself. This guy had the nerve to call himself a vigilante. In Red Hand's eyes he was nothing but a criminal. Tonight however, Red Hand was determined to end his pathetic existence once and for all as he started sneaking closer and closer to him with his gun in his hand and staying in the shadows.
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