Public Enemy Zero

24

Mitchell watched the front of the other house for another two hours after the SWAT team left. Periodically a patrol car would pass through the neighborhood. Mitchell suspected this wasn’t their usual beat.

Although he wasn’t experienced at how the police tracked down fugitives, he would bet that there was probably another car, maybe an unmarked one, parked near the entrances or, worse yet, hiding in plain sight in a driveway, masquerading as one of the neighbor’s cars.

For a moment, he thought he was being too paranoid and then realized that was the whole point. He had to be extra paranoid. Getting out of the house was going to be tricky. He needed to make it from there to his next location while avoiding whatever surveillance there was. At least they would be looking for someone heading to the house and not away from it. Maybe there was something to that.

The attic was starting to feel more claustrophobic. He was tempted to go down into the house but didn’t want to take the chance of being seen through a window or have the owner come home early. He needed to sit tight for another few hours.

Mitchell pulled the pocket radio from his bag and put in an earbud. He used one ear to listen to the street and the other to find out what was being said on the news. He hoped in vain that he’d hear newscasters explaining that the manhunt was all a mistake and that Mitchell was in the clear.

He turned to an all-news AM station and caught the middle of a broadcast.

“… while the search continues for South Florida radio personality Mitchell Roberts after an apparent one-man rampage that led to a riot at Park Square Mall where at least 18 people are believed to be dead, authorities have downplayed rumors the riot was caused by some kind of unknown chemical or biological agent. A Department of Homeland Security spokesperson said that their personnel on site are there merely as a precaution.

“Meanwhile, news outlets have continued to press for access to security camera footage, hoping it could shed some light on how the actions of one man could lead to such a tragic event.”

While the news overall was depressing, hearing the phrase “chemical or biological” made Mitchell feel like there was a chance of finding out some kind of explanation that didn’t involve him being a sociopathic mass murderer.

The newscast came back from the commercial break, “Earlier today we spoke with University of Miami psychology professor Jeff Keating in a phone interview.”

Keating spoke with a precise tone. “What we may have here may be a case of mass hysteria. We see this all the time in news footage from the Middle East and places like India and Pakistan, where crowds of people are so angry by what they see that, in the comfort of the crowd, they feel empowered to take actions that otherwise morally they’d never do.

“Ultimately, they’re not responsible for their actions. This man who caused the riot by threatening a mother and her child is the one who has to pay the price for these actions.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Mitchell replied to the radio.

Sick of hearing people who weren’t there, describing something they didn’t know anything about, Mitchell turned off the radio. He decided to try to catch a nap in the attic before he departed.

To keep on the safe side, he set the alarm on the stolen iPod for two hours. He used his backpack as a pillow and placed the iPod inside of it. Wedged between old boxes and itchy insulation, he somehow managed to fall asleep.

Two hours later, he almost cracked his head on the ceiling when he woke up startled and confused. It took him a minute to find the iPod and shut off the alarm. He was terrified a passing patrol car was going to hear it and know where he was hiding.

After he turned off the iPod, he took a look out through the vent. It was dark. There were a few more cars in driveways, but the neighborhood still looked deserted.

Mitchell decided he should wait to see if there was a pattern to when the police car drove through the neighborhood. Knowing that could help him plan his escape out of there.

In the meantime, he needed to occupy himself. After a lot of internal debate, he decided to turn to WQXD to see what they were saying. He was also strangely obsessed with the thought that they were going to give Mike the intern his late-night spot. It was a stupid thing to think about, but the idea that Mike would rat him out for the opportunity nagged him. Everybody for himself.

Mitchell heard the opening music to Rookman’s show. It was some Neil Diamond meets the Doors send-up that Rookman had recorded in his garage with a few of his buddies. Imagining Rookman playing guitar next to an ex-cop playing a drum set in front of a half-put-together Camaro and beer bottles strewn about the place made Mitchell feel like things were back to normal.

Rookman’s gravelly voice came in over the music, “Man on a rampage! Watch out! Our own Mad Mitch a wanted fugitive folks! It doesn’t get any more exciting than that. Tonight I’m going to give you the inside scoop into this criminal mastermind. This dark loner who sat just a few feet from where I am now earlier this morning.

“I’ve got a special last-minute guest on the line whose going to tell us how the authorities are going to catch this dangerous menace before he murders us all!”

Mitchell shook his head. What the hell?

“Please welcome former police captain Dick Miller. Dick just wrote a book about the search for the DC Snipers and is an expert on how manhunts work. I brought him on the show so he could explain how the authorities are going to catch our Mad Mitch and bring him to justice. Dick, how are you?”

Mitchell’s stomach turned. Despite all his fight-the-power talk and what he thought was mutual respect if not friendship, Rookman was ready to pounce on him like everybody else. Mitchell wanted to turn off the radio, but his sense of self-loathing wouldn’t let him.

“Great, Rookman, thanks for having me on here,” Miller said.

“Thank you for agreeing on such short notice. Just for background for our syndicated listeners and those of you living under rocks and in your bunkers, an arrest warrant was issued today for Mad Mitch, aka Mitchell Roberts, the kid who plays that emo music here after I go home to get drunk. Run for your lives, folks!

“So, Dick, first I have to ask you, is it clear to you why there’s this manhunt for Mitch? I’ve looked at the bulletin they’ve sent out and I can’t find any mention of a gun, a rifle, a knife or even an angry T-shirt.”

“Well …” Miller hesitated. “I think that since he’s the one person who seems to be at the center of the tragic events at the Park Square Mall, I can understand why police want to talk to him. That plus the events earlier in the day when he assaulted, allegedly, his girlfriend, the boyfriend and threw the parking enforcer into a windshield.”

“Have you ever seen Mitch?” asked Rookman.

“I saw the photo. But, no, I’ve never met him.”

“I guess you never really know a guy until he beats up on two people at once and then picks up an overweight parking cop and throws her five feet into the windshield of his car. I’d never have believed it myself if the cops hadn’t told us that’s what happened.”

“So, Dick, you’re an expert on what happens when police decide who public enemy number one is and have to go after them. What’s going on right now?”

“I’m not part of the search, so I really couldn’t tell you,” replied Miller.

“Just give me your best guess. I know a lot of my listeners would feel safer knowing what steps are being taken.”

“Well, the first 24 hours is critical. Although there’s a coordination between the different city and county police departments, the farther away he gets from here, the harder he’s going to be to catch.”

“Why is that?” asked Rookman.

“As much as they try to cooperate with one another, you’re not going to be as concerned about something that didn’t happen in your own jurisdiction. Dade County and Palm Beach County, which surround Broward County, have their own problems and have to figure out how much of their own resources to expend in trying to apprehend Mitchell Roberts. So the farther he gets away from here, the harder he’ll be to catch.”

“I see,” said Rookman. “So he needs to get as far away from here in 24 hours if he wants to avoid getting caught.”

Mitchell’s ears perked up. He couldn’t help but notice the way Rookman said that. It wasn’t even a rhetorical question.

“Now, what are some of the ways fugitives can travel that allow them to avoid getting caught?” asked Rookman.

“The first method is a car that hasn’t been reported stolen. Or a stolen car where they’ve switched out the license plates for a car that the owner might not realize they’ve gone missing.”

“Like a long-term airport parking lot?” asked Rookman.

“Yes, that’s one place.”

“What if they don’t have access to a car or don’t know how to steal one?”

“That makes it harder. In populated areas, it’s difficult to travel by foot and not go noticed. Public transportation is heavily monitored, as well,” answered Miller.

“So if he sticks to side roads and places like railroad tracks and travels by night, it would be harder to catch him?”

“It would make things more complicated.”

“I’ve heard that one of the things that some fugitives have used is police scanners to listen for police presence,” said Rookman.

“It’s not a common thing, but a lot of departments use open frequencies. Especially when they’re doing coordinated activities with other agencies.”

“Let’s just hope that Mitch doesn’t get one of those. Mitch might be able to stay hidden for days…”

“I agree,” said Miller.

“As a public service announcement to any truckers out there listening to this show who might think about leaving your police scanner on your seat when you went into a diner to get something to eat, think twice. Our Mad Mitch might just put a brick through your window and steal it.”