Child Roland to the dark tower came...
The man in black walks the streets of Chicago.
And the gunslinger follows.
Roland recognized Marten a week ago and knew then what he had to do. He did not attend the parade, but he saw Marten's moving picture in the box that Andrew calls a television. There was no mistaking him for anyone else. He may call himself Flagg now, but Roland knew it was Marten Broadcloak, the magician. He spent the next week hunting the man down.
It shouldn't have been so difficult. Roland had been trained to track anyone down. It wouldn't have been difficult in his own world, but Marten had always been one step ahead of him even there.
He does finally catch up with Marten. He is not sure if it's because Marten let him or if he actually has the element of surprise for once, but it doesn't quite matter to Roland. Roland found him. It's a house that Marten must be using as a base. This is the extent of the information that Roland gathers on the place before acting.
Roland doesn't make a plan. He moves. He is a gunslinger, and it is his instinct to kill and that will be enough to get him through. There is no one guarding the door outside, but there are guards on the inside of the door, but they aren't prepared to shoot a kid. Anyone inside with a gun is killed before they can think to pull a trigger. One bullet for every person. If three boys, a gunslinger and two trainees, can take down hundreds. Roland can handle this house with ease.
Before he enters the final room where Marten must be waiting, Roland puts more bullets into his guns until they're full up. The law enforcement of this city will be coming soon. Or maybe they won't. Marten always had a funny way with time. Maybe Marten wants Roland to find him, which is not a comforting thought, but there's no time for thinking so Roland moves on, kicks open the door, and uses it as a shield.
He takes down one man, but has to move away from the door to shoot at the woman. She gets him in the side with a bullet before he puts one through her head. The man next to her shoots Roland in the arm before the man's taken down, too. Miraculously, the gun remains in his right hand despite the pain and blood dripping down his arm. It's unlikely that even five minutes have passed and all that's left is Marten.
"Marten," Roland aims both of his guns at Marten.
"Actually, it's Flagg now," Marten says with a smile that spreads out across his face like fire spreads on gasoline.
And then Roland pulls the triggers.
And nothing happens.
"Roland. How good to see you, again," he says, leaning back against the wall with one leg crossed over the other, hands behind his head. "How's your mother these days?"
Roland is too young and close to this to suppress his growl, as he fires uselessly, again, and, again, and again.
"Wounds still fresh, are they? No wonder you came running without even considering," he laughs. "You didn't think it would be this easy, did you? You can't kill me. You should have realized that in your own world, but you were too stubborn there, too. Do you want to know what happens to you there? Do you want to know if you ever make it to your precious tower?"
Roland flips open the chamber only to find that its empty, except for the dark ash that pours out of where bullets should be. The sight of the lack of ammo is like getting kicked in the gut, but that doesn't show on his face. He looks up at Marten with a level of determination that shouldn't exist on his features.
"What are you going to do now, gunslinger?"
Marten starts to laugh, and it sounds so much like the way he laughed when he told Roland's father a joke that Roland lunges forward, blood dripping down his sides. "I'll kill you with my hands."
But Marten has his hand around Roland's throat before he can bother. He presses the boy against the wall, nearly crushing the windpipe in his grip. His eyes take on a brilliant red. "Now Roland. I'd hate to kill you before you see what I do with this city. But I will. Now are you gonna play nice? Struggle to breathe if you're gonna play nice, gunslinger. HA! That's what I wanted to hear."
He drops Roland to the floor as sirens sound in the distance. Roland is trying to come back to consciousness, to fight, but it's no use. Marten is walking out the door.
"Now. Roland, my boy, if you'll excuse me I've got a bit of cleanup to do. You've got... to get out unless you want to keep fighting. I'm sure the boys in blue would be happy to kill you themselves. Especially after a bloodbath like this. You're just lucky I know a good cleaner. Might fit you with the bill later though so keep an eye out on that," Marten-Flagg laughs, again, and then starts to sing a little on his way out, "Baby, can you dig your man?"
The sirens are getting closer. Roland struggles to his feet. He considers fighting. He considers following Marten until he's sure he's dead, but he wants to actually succeed. He doesn't want to die here and he will die and he will fail if he stays so Roland runs.
For the first time in his life, Roland runs from the man in black, out the door in the back of the house, through another building, out the other side, and down the street in the cold. He knows of an abandoned warehouse filled with old pain, dried blood, a place of evil and grief. Roland heads there, because it's the only place that is nearly always empty in this city.
"In a house on West Smith Street, neighbors were startled by the sounds of shots ringing out from a nearby house."
camera cut to a witness, who looks frazzled and wide eyes in her bath robe
"This has always been a peaceful neighborhood. The rest of the city dealing with the crazy when we've been relatively missed. Even the earthquake didn't do much damage here, but then...this. I heard those shots and I thought, oh, Jesus here it comes. We're getting the crazy, too. And all I could do was get under my table, holding Nana to me (that's my cat) and call the police."
camera cut to the house
"In the house, a group of supporters of the new candidate for mayor, Randall Flagg, and the man, himself, were working together on the campaign, making phone calls, creating posters, signs, and working on Flagg's new website when the police say a teenage boy came in, took out a gun, and started shooting. At the end of his mad rampage, twelve people were dead. Flagg and one other were the only ones to walk away alive."
camera cut to Police Chief
"We are looking into all possible leads at this time. It does not look like the gunman wanted specifically to assassinate Flagg. All evidence points to this being a random act. The gunman left some blood at the scene of the crime. We'll be taking that into evidence. Mr. Flagg is, also, helping us to get a sketch up of what the boy looks like so everyone can be alert and we can do. It's a terrible tragedy. Our hearts go out to the families of the victims at this time."
camera cut to Randall Flagg, looking genuinely grieved
"I- It's difficult for me to talk about this so soon after it happened, but I understand that the public has a right to know. I only survived, because I managed to talk the kid down. He didn't mean to hurt anyone. I believe he needed a lot of help and there wasn't anyone to give it to him, to see that he needed it, and help him before it came to this. That's not to say that I don't want justice to be served to the full extent of the law For anyone worried that I will end my campaign over what's happened here, don't be. It would be a disservice to those who died here tonight. It's the infection that's taking over this city, which is the whole reason I'm fighting. We've seen children turned into coldblooded killers here before. Where were his parents? Someone should have seen the warning signs. I want to make sure these things never happen, again. The only way I'm going to be able to do that is to keep moving forward with this campaign. To the families of the victims, of my friends... I will pay for their funeral costs, what ever they may be. I'm so sorry for your loss."
camera cut to a sketch of Roland, which is not the greatest ever, you'd have to know him to get that it is him
"This is a sketch of the teenager believed to be responsible for this. If you see him, do not approach him, because he could still be dangerous. Call the police immediately at the number listed on screen."
Roland watches the news through the window of a store selling TVs. He haphazardly bandaged his arm and side with fabric from his jacket, which means he's standing outside in 30 degree weather in nothing but a bloody t-shirt, but it's late in a bad part of the city. The only people around don't care. The side injury wasn't much, but he's pretty sure there's still a bullet in his arm. It keeps bleeding. He'll have to get that taken care of if he wants to live. He'll try to take the bullet out of his arm tomorrow. Cort said he'd taken a bullet out of his own leg before, but this... might be a little closer to impossible. He was never sure when Cort was making up stories and when he was telling the truth either.
The news fills him with an indescribable kind of dread. No mention of any guns. Nothing. Maybe he is crazy. Maybe he imagined all of it out of his grief and rage at seeing someone who looks and sounds exactly like Marten. The bruise and ache of his throat makes it harder to believe that it was all in his head, but... maybe it was.. Maybe he killed defenseless people in his rage and desperation to get to Marten. Nothing makes sense.
So Roland returns to the warehouse to sleep off the pain and confusion at least for a couple hours. Any longer than that might be dangerous.
My first thought was, he lied in every word.
And the gunslinger follows.
Roland recognized Marten a week ago and knew then what he had to do. He did not attend the parade, but he saw Marten's moving picture in the box that Andrew calls a television. There was no mistaking him for anyone else. He may call himself Flagg now, but Roland knew it was Marten Broadcloak, the magician. He spent the next week hunting the man down.
It shouldn't have been so difficult. Roland had been trained to track anyone down. It wouldn't have been difficult in his own world, but Marten had always been one step ahead of him even there.
He does finally catch up with Marten. He is not sure if it's because Marten let him or if he actually has the element of surprise for once, but it doesn't quite matter to Roland. Roland found him. It's a house that Marten must be using as a base. This is the extent of the information that Roland gathers on the place before acting.
Roland doesn't make a plan. He moves. He is a gunslinger, and it is his instinct to kill and that will be enough to get him through. There is no one guarding the door outside, but there are guards on the inside of the door, but they aren't prepared to shoot a kid. Anyone inside with a gun is killed before they can think to pull a trigger. One bullet for every person. If three boys, a gunslinger and two trainees, can take down hundreds. Roland can handle this house with ease.
Before he enters the final room where Marten must be waiting, Roland puts more bullets into his guns until they're full up. The law enforcement of this city will be coming soon. Or maybe they won't. Marten always had a funny way with time. Maybe Marten wants Roland to find him, which is not a comforting thought, but there's no time for thinking so Roland moves on, kicks open the door, and uses it as a shield.
He takes down one man, but has to move away from the door to shoot at the woman. She gets him in the side with a bullet before he puts one through her head. The man next to her shoots Roland in the arm before the man's taken down, too. Miraculously, the gun remains in his right hand despite the pain and blood dripping down his arm. It's unlikely that even five minutes have passed and all that's left is Marten.
"Marten," Roland aims both of his guns at Marten.
"Actually, it's Flagg now," Marten says with a smile that spreads out across his face like fire spreads on gasoline.
And then Roland pulls the triggers.
And nothing happens.
"Roland. How good to see you, again," he says, leaning back against the wall with one leg crossed over the other, hands behind his head. "How's your mother these days?"
Roland is too young and close to this to suppress his growl, as he fires uselessly, again, and, again, and again.
"Wounds still fresh, are they? No wonder you came running without even considering," he laughs. "You didn't think it would be this easy, did you? You can't kill me. You should have realized that in your own world, but you were too stubborn there, too. Do you want to know what happens to you there? Do you want to know if you ever make it to your precious tower?"
Roland flips open the chamber only to find that its empty, except for the dark ash that pours out of where bullets should be. The sight of the lack of ammo is like getting kicked in the gut, but that doesn't show on his face. He looks up at Marten with a level of determination that shouldn't exist on his features.
"What are you going to do now, gunslinger?"
Marten starts to laugh, and it sounds so much like the way he laughed when he told Roland's father a joke that Roland lunges forward, blood dripping down his sides. "I'll kill you with my hands."
But Marten has his hand around Roland's throat before he can bother. He presses the boy against the wall, nearly crushing the windpipe in his grip. His eyes take on a brilliant red. "Now Roland. I'd hate to kill you before you see what I do with this city. But I will. Now are you gonna play nice? Struggle to breathe if you're gonna play nice, gunslinger. HA! That's what I wanted to hear."
He drops Roland to the floor as sirens sound in the distance. Roland is trying to come back to consciousness, to fight, but it's no use. Marten is walking out the door.
"Now. Roland, my boy, if you'll excuse me I've got a bit of cleanup to do. You've got... to get out unless you want to keep fighting. I'm sure the boys in blue would be happy to kill you themselves. Especially after a bloodbath like this. You're just lucky I know a good cleaner. Might fit you with the bill later though so keep an eye out on that," Marten-Flagg laughs, again, and then starts to sing a little on his way out, "Baby, can you dig your man?"
The sirens are getting closer. Roland struggles to his feet. He considers fighting. He considers following Marten until he's sure he's dead, but he wants to actually succeed. He doesn't want to die here and he will die and he will fail if he stays so Roland runs.
For the first time in his life, Roland runs from the man in black, out the door in the back of the house, through another building, out the other side, and down the street in the cold. He knows of an abandoned warehouse filled with old pain, dried blood, a place of evil and grief. Roland heads there, because it's the only place that is nearly always empty in this city.
"In a house on West Smith Street, neighbors were startled by the sounds of shots ringing out from a nearby house."
camera cut to a witness, who looks frazzled and wide eyes in her bath robe
"This has always been a peaceful neighborhood. The rest of the city dealing with the crazy when we've been relatively missed. Even the earthquake didn't do much damage here, but then...this. I heard those shots and I thought, oh, Jesus here it comes. We're getting the crazy, too. And all I could do was get under my table, holding Nana to me (that's my cat) and call the police."
camera cut to the house
"In the house, a group of supporters of the new candidate for mayor, Randall Flagg, and the man, himself, were working together on the campaign, making phone calls, creating posters, signs, and working on Flagg's new website when the police say a teenage boy came in, took out a gun, and started shooting. At the end of his mad rampage, twelve people were dead. Flagg and one other were the only ones to walk away alive."
camera cut to Police Chief
"We are looking into all possible leads at this time. It does not look like the gunman wanted specifically to assassinate Flagg. All evidence points to this being a random act. The gunman left some blood at the scene of the crime. We'll be taking that into evidence. Mr. Flagg is, also, helping us to get a sketch up of what the boy looks like so everyone can be alert and we can do. It's a terrible tragedy. Our hearts go out to the families of the victims at this time."
camera cut to Randall Flagg, looking genuinely grieved
"I- It's difficult for me to talk about this so soon after it happened, but I understand that the public has a right to know. I only survived, because I managed to talk the kid down. He didn't mean to hurt anyone. I believe he needed a lot of help and there wasn't anyone to give it to him, to see that he needed it, and help him before it came to this. That's not to say that I don't want justice to be served to the full extent of the law For anyone worried that I will end my campaign over what's happened here, don't be. It would be a disservice to those who died here tonight. It's the infection that's taking over this city, which is the whole reason I'm fighting. We've seen children turned into coldblooded killers here before. Where were his parents? Someone should have seen the warning signs. I want to make sure these things never happen, again. The only way I'm going to be able to do that is to keep moving forward with this campaign. To the families of the victims, of my friends... I will pay for their funeral costs, what ever they may be. I'm so sorry for your loss."
camera cut to a sketch of Roland, which is not the greatest ever, you'd have to know him to get that it is him
"This is a sketch of the teenager believed to be responsible for this. If you see him, do not approach him, because he could still be dangerous. Call the police immediately at the number listed on screen."
Roland watches the news through the window of a store selling TVs. He haphazardly bandaged his arm and side with fabric from his jacket, which means he's standing outside in 30 degree weather in nothing but a bloody t-shirt, but it's late in a bad part of the city. The only people around don't care. The side injury wasn't much, but he's pretty sure there's still a bullet in his arm. It keeps bleeding. He'll have to get that taken care of if he wants to live. He'll try to take the bullet out of his arm tomorrow. Cort said he'd taken a bullet out of his own leg before, but this... might be a little closer to impossible. He was never sure when Cort was making up stories and when he was telling the truth either.
The news fills him with an indescribable kind of dread. No mention of any guns. Nothing. Maybe he is crazy. Maybe he imagined all of it out of his grief and rage at seeing someone who looks and sounds exactly like Marten. The bruise and ache of his throat makes it harder to believe that it was all in his head, but... maybe it was.. Maybe he killed defenseless people in his rage and desperation to get to Marten. Nothing makes sense.
So Roland returns to the warehouse to sleep off the pain and confusion at least for a couple hours. Any longer than that might be dangerous.
My first thought was, he lied in every word.