1. CHAPTER 2 - KICKING AND SCREAMING
'He' was not happy.
'He' is Angel Face.
Angel Face is the second-in-command in Project Mayhem, behind Tyler.
The plan wasn't going according to what had been agreed he said. He told me that I wasn't following what had been specifically laid out, and if I didn't calm down, measures would be taken to ensure I followed the rules.
I'd heard this threat before.
They would take my balls.
I soon quietened down.
'This wasn't the plan, sir', Angel Face whispered, hoping Marla wouldn't overhear. He didn't look best pleased, though it was hard to read his face.
Recently, Angel Face had become incredibly bitter.
Having your face smashed into oblivion could do that to you.
But no matter what, he always followed Tyler.
Perhaps he would follow me. After all, all of these guys still saw me as 'Mr Durden'.
'We are aborting this mission...' I stammered, trying not to let my face give me away; I was a nervous wreck. 'From now on, there will be no more homework assignments'.
I wanted to tell them that Project Mayhem had officially been closed down there and then, but felt that the vast majority of the members would have a hard time dealing with such an announcement. It was better to slowly wean them off.
Like a drug user wanting to get off the cocaine; slow and steady.
Angel Face wasn't convinced; nor we the others. They soon began to surround me.
'Sir, you told us that if anyone tried to stop us, we'd have to take measures to ensure our plans go ahead... Even if that meant opposing you'.
I began to sweat and stammer. I couldn't find the words to come back with an argument.
To be honest, I don't think anything I could've said would've sounded convincing.
It was at that point that Marla spoke up.
And their attention and wrath turned to her.
I am Jack's cold sweat.
'Tyler is the one in the charge, right?', Marla yelled, attracting the attention of my fellow Project Mayhem 'members'.
'In Project Mayhem, we are all equal', came one reply.
'In Project Mayhem, we have no names', replied another.
'The plan MUST be carried through,' shouted Angel Face, forcefully. 'Marla Singer must be eliminated'.
'Why?' I blurted out, as I noticed one of the Project Mayhem members reaching into his pants.
Either he had a gun or he was really pleased to see Marla and myself.
Neither would have surprised me.
'She knows too much!' argued Angel Face, his face now beginning to turn scarlet. He was losing his composure, and fast.
The member with the gun stepped forward, in a quick attempt to grab Marla.
He should have known better.
In one swift action, Marla managed to kick him in the stomach with her high heels, forcing him to double over. She pried the gun from his fingers and took aim.
Angel Face shot her a quick grin.
'In Project Mayhem, we have no names. If one of us dies, it's for the greater good'.
In Tyler they trusted; that's what he preached.
'You wanna' make an omelette, you gotta' break some eggs'.
My mind raced back to Bob.
Poor Bob; he just didn't know any better.
I felt like taking the gun in Marla's hand and shooting myself again. This was all becoming just too much.
Just as I fantasized about blowing off my other cheek, a gun-shot went off.
Marla had shot the Project Mayhem member right in the kneecap.
He was screaming his head off, trying to kick her with his good leg.
Faithful and resilient until the end.
Tyler had picked them well.
I used the ever so brief split-second distraction to elbow Angel Face in the mid-section and shoving him into the crowd of members, sending them to the floor.
As if we knew what the other was thinking, Marla and myself charged down the hall, storming through the corridors and leaving the building.
We headed out the back way; leaving through the entrance would attract far too much attention.
The police had arrived, as had the ambulance and fire crews.
Not to mention the news reporters, hot the scene of the crime.
As far as I was concerned, Project Mayhem would be caught red-handed and prosecuted.
Who was I kidding? That would be too good to be true.
Of course they'd be back; and I didn't have the luxury of knowing when or where either.
I am Jack's anxiety attack.
Marla told me there was no way we could return to the Paper Street Soap house, and chances are there would be some members waiting at her home also.
So there was only one place left to seek refuge.
It was time to go back to the Support Groups.
However this time, we could use all the help and support we could get.
God knows, we were going to need it.