The rain relentlessly berated Beau’s hood as he walked down the narrow stretch of road. His trip had largely been a dud—it was wishful thinking that a town this off the grid would have medical supplies, but options were slim. Beau could feel the poorly-done stitches in his side coming undone, and he need not look to know it was infected. Yet, these were the least of his concerns. It was the noise, the damn noise had been killing Beau ever since that day. It was silent yet deafening, as if his brain was being tricked into believing there was sound while his ears remained tethered to reality. It was as if someone was constantly poking his head every second, but when Beau waited for the subsequent explanation, there was nothing. Indeed, it was simply noise. The noise made it impossible to sleep, Beau estimated that he had slept only 2 out of the past 72 hours. But more pressing, the noise made it hard to determine the location of Beau’s pursuer. 

 Beau walked into the vacant apartment he was “renting”. In reality, the landlord took pity on Beau’s pathetic state, and told him he could reside for a week. This wasn’t an unusual situation for the landlord, few people end up in No Man’s Land voluntarily. The town — formerly known as “Riverton” — used to be a quaint, steady fishing town, until an oil spill decimated the local fish population. The town sued and won against their corporate bringers of death, being awarded the largest verdict ever recorded. That was for show, of course, as 30 years have passed without a dollar ever being paid. But, it served its purpose, it let those outside of No Man’s Land sleep easy knowing justice was served. Or, at least, this was the story the landlord told Beau, who listened as it was clear his attention was to be in lieu of rent. 

Beau stumbled through the dark studio apartment, and, leaning against the wall, flicked the lights on. The light revealed the pursuer, a caucasian man in his 50s, wearing a black suit and tie, his black hair, slighting greying, neatly slicked back. “Look Beau, please don’t freak out”. Beau freaked out. He stumbled into the kitchen, knocking over the assortment of pots and pans left by the prior tenant. He was hyperventilating, and his trembling hands reached into his coat pocket. “Beau, BEAU. Please, if we can just talk this can all be resolved.” Tears had begun to stream down Beau’s face, “P…please l…leave” was asserted with the conviction of a child asking his schoolyard bully to stop hitting him. The man stood up, revealing the katana attached to his hip, “Beau, look, you’re scared I unders—” “No you don’t! If…if you understood you wouldn’t be chasing m…me halfway across the c…country” The man sighed, “Beau I wouldn’t have to chase you if you would just listen to me. Look, I, I don’t know what happened ok? I’m just the man he sends on retrieval missions. You know this. I trained you back when you considered going into a similar role.” Beau finally got back on his feet, “Why do you keep saying this? I don’t know you, I’ve never met you! I…gah, it’s so loud and you’re not making any sense!” The man took one step closer “We can work through this if you just come with me”. Beau finally removed his hand from his jacket, revealing a loaded .22 handgun. He pointed the shaking barrel at the man, “s…stay back, p…please”. The man rolled his eyes “Beau, that won’t work, you know that.”, he took another step forward. “I’m serious! I…I won’t let you hurt me again.” “I wouldn’t have had to cut you in the first place if you would just. Come. With. Me.” The man took one more step and three shots rang out. Beau closed his eyes when he shot, and when they opened he saw the man standing, unphased. “I missed?”. The man grimaced, “Nope, all three hit. You fucking happy now, Beau?” The man clutched his ribs, where his suit was now tattered. “I’m sick of this, your father said I could handicap you as a last resort.” The man put his hand to his blade. In that moment, two things happened. One, Beau was certain of his death. Two, the noise finally materialized into a recognizable dialect. Its message was clear:

“JUMP OUT THE WINDOW, NOW.”

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