Error

by Ásgrímur Hartmannsson

Chapter 12

'Error' synopsis

One day, Jonas, who has recently migrated to the city, discovers that all his records — including his assets — have been erased somehow. No longer able to get work, buy anything on credit or sell his now legally non-existent car, his life becomes a unique adventure.

Jonas opened the door. The smoke almost pushed him out into the street, such was its force as it rushed from the cramped quarters of the bar into the open air. The state could kiss the Kyoto agreement goodbye at this point. Those gases were probably not so ozone-friendly.

Not that there is any shortage of ozone on the streets. It gets produced in great quantity in the many car engines and spread into the lungs of other drivers, passengers and people who live anywhere in the city.

Jonas let some smoke out before he dared to venture inside.

Frank was there, so were Rick and Eddy, all sitting in their corner as before. With them was another guy; Jonas had not seen him before. Also, there were a couple of others in there, but they did not seem to be of his concern. Jonas approached the men, and they acknowledged him, offering him a seat.

“This is Lem,” said Frank, pointing to the new guy. The new guy saluted Jonas, and they shook hands.

“Lem thinks he can help you,” said Frank.

“I can hack into the national archives for you,” Lem stated, “and I think I can alter the files on you in whatever way you want.”

“You won’t need to alter a thing. I need you to insert me into the database,” said Jonas.

“I can do that too,” said Lem, “Just give me whatever info you want me to put in, and I’ll do it. No problem.”

Jonas smiled. “What do I pay you?” he asked Lem.

“Don’t worry. I do it for fun. Just so I can tell people that I did,” said Lem.

“No one will believe you,” said Jonas.

“If I show them how, they will,” said Lem and had a sip of his drink.

Jonas gave him his name and social security number and thanked him. Lem grinned. Then Frank turned to Jonas and asked him if he could not still do a little job next week. Jonas thought so. He had to work while he was unemployed.

“As long as I don’t have to kill anyone,” he said before he left.

Jonas exited the bar and walked to his car. He heard an engine running nearby but thought nothing of it; he was too caught up with how he smelled — again. And he could breathe out here, in the cool air.

Jonas thought he would just go directly home. But certain people had other ideas. As he exited the parking lot in his car, the idling vehicle he had walked past had its headlights turned on — the high beam. And then it moved to follow Jonas.

The high beam irritated Jonas as it was reflected off his rear-view mirror, and he cursed the villain that followed him, flicking the button on the mirror to turn it away. The big vehicle tailgated Jonas as he made his way to the freeway.

It was a rather large vehicle, on at least 35-inch tyres. Most likely a Land Cruiser 90, but Jonas could not tell because of the high beam. The engine sounded awfully loud and out of proportion to how fast the vehicle was moving. Jonas felt that his follower had great problems with matching his acceleration at each traffic-light.

After having been chased off the freeway and around random streets, Jonas became sure that the large mountain truck was following him. The high beams were probably just a ploy to annoy him. Or terrorize him. He could not be sure how people’s minds worked.

Inside the mountain truck, minds were faced with a strange new problem:

“Are you sure you’re typing it in correctly?” asked the driver, sounding annoyed.

“Yes I am, he’s not listed,” said the passenger, holding his laptop securely in his lap, alternately checking the display and the car before him.

“That can’t be. It was checked out this year. It must be listed,” said the driver, pointing out at the little car to give attention to the little sticker on the licence plate indicating that it had passed the last check-up.

“But it is not. We must just stop him and have a talk with him now.”

Jonas did not like it when the mountain truck tried to overtake him. For all he knew, it could be some psycho trying to kill him. His suspicions were confirmed in a most unhappy manner when the truck hit his car in the rear. It did not hit hard, but it was enough to make Jonas feel even more uncomfortable than before.

And just when he thought things could not be any worse, another mountain car coming from the opposite direction passed over the median in front of him and stopped sideways on the middle of the road. Jonas turned off the road and rattled about for almost ten seconds before he got boxed in by the two trucks.

He stopped and waited. What now? Some men exited the trucks and approached his car. One of them knocked on his window, indicating that he requested a colloquy.

Jonas rolled the window down a little and asked the man if he had any urgent words for him.

“Get out of the car,” the man demanded.

“Can’t you talk to me through the window?” asked Jonas.

“I can break the window, drag you out and then talk with you,” said the man.

Jonas saw someone brandish a tyre iron. It seemed to him they were offering not to destroy his car — his uninsured car. He opened the door reluctantly and stepped out of the car.

The man asked Jonas his full name. Jonas would have been much more surprised at the question had he not been terrorized by the men.

One of them had a small laptop computer. He typed in some information and a little later turned his head up and shook it in denial. “Your real name,” demanded the man.

“That is my real name,” said Jonas.

“Just give us your real name and we’ll stop bothering you,” said the man.

“Jonas Arnes,” said Jonas.

“I already told you, that is not a real name,” said the man.

“Yes it is. That’s my name,” said Jonas.

“Stop wasting my time,” said the man.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m not on file. But that is my name,” said Jonas.

At this point the man became obviously irritated and just dove into Jonas’ pockets until he found his wallet. He tore it open and found a bunch of Id’s he could look at: Jonas’ Visa card, his debit card, his library card, his driver’s licence. All of it had his name on it.

The man looked at it all twice. The he leaned his head slightly to the side, sighed, and asked Jonas how come his information was not on the web. Jonas told him in as few a words as he could, that he had been temporarily deleted but was working on it.

The men looked at Jonas as if he was a freak of nature. Jonas thought they were wondering whether to beat him up now, or take him somewhere to be beaten up.

“Where do you live?” asked the man.

“Why do you think I will tell you that?” asked Jonas.

“So we won’t beat you up,” said the man.

Jonas stared at the man.

“Look, we know you are working for that punk — Frank. We have seen you coming from his hangout. And we have seen you deliver to his clients. Don’t try to deny it.”

“What does all that have to do with where I live?” asked Jonas.

One of the other men walked to the man and whispered something in his ear. The man nodded, released Jonas and backed away from him. Then he walked back to his Land Cruiser and waited for the guy with the computer and his two companions to get in before he drove away.

The rest of the guys returned to their car, an Ssang-young Musso on 35-inch tyres, and judging by the stickers it had something to do with Brabus. They tore off the grass in a most violent fashion and burned rubber once on the tarmac. With that, they were off.

Jonas just stood there for a minute, wondering what in hell had just happened. He felt it would be best if he did not sleep at home that night, but then, where? Outside, in a bush — the only solution; he had gloves in the car. That would have to keep him warm during the night.

Jonas formulated a plan — a plan to get back at his enemies by using his other enemies. This ought to be fun. This lousy event could have some use after all.

Jonas went back in his car and put his plan in motion. Instead of going home, he drove somewhere else. He still knew where that woman from the Bureau of Personal Information Protection lived. He thought he might park his car in front of her house tonight, to get back at her. She might at least smile.

Jonas was right, he was being followed, but by a much less flamboyant car: a Corolla. Not old, but not new either; the most common version. The men in that car saw Jonas as he drove off the grass. And they saw as he drove through the city. And they saw when he parked in the driveway. But the men in the car did not see Jonas go into the actual building. That, they just assumed he did.

In reality, Jonas walked out of the garden behind the building. He had become aware of the car following him, it had not been hard to spot; it was the only other car on the road, and knew that he must be quick.

He rushed through many gardens, the shortest way through the whole neighbourhood, and hid in a thick bush in a particularly dark garden.

The night was dark and cold. It had an excuse to be. It was winter. At least it did not rain. Or snow. Snow would have been nice, Jonas thought, but he quickly dropped that idea on second thought. In snow, anyone could track his steps. When being chased by thugs, that is the last thing one needs. A blizzard, on the other hand, might come in handy.

Jonas stayed hidden in the bush for a long time. He dared not move, and every time he heard a car he wondered if it was coming for him. Then he thought: how would he get his own car back? Would the thugs maybe set it on fire? Jonas could not see any unusual light from where he had come from, nor could he smell any smoke.

But all that meant little. Maybe Jonas would have to have Frank organize a car for him. But it was not too bad. It was an old car. But it was his car, dammit!

Jonas stood up and felt a cramp coming on. He had definitely spent too much time sitting on the frozen ground. After moving around a little, he decided to move out. He checked his watch under a street light. He had spent two whole hours in that bush.

Jonas figured he would take the scenic route. He would never fall to sleep now. Besides, it would not be good for him. Sleeping outside in the frost is never good. A small walk, on the other hand, would be refreshing.

As it was still a weekday, so to speak, there was not much traffic as Jonas ambled around the neighbourhood. But then again, this was a residential area; even tomorrow it would be rather quiet — unless someone had a party at home.

He hid in between the trees whenever he heard a car approach. Sometimes he ran behind a house. From there he usually exited the yard out the back, if at all possible. Jonas grinned. His life had just turned into an adventure.

Jonas circled the whole neighbourhood before he came within visible distance of his car. He spied on it for ten minutes before he started moving in. He snuck into the yard and circled around the house.

All was quiet. His car was still there, intact. The family’s car was gone. Jonas looked around the corner. He didn’t see anything of interest. Whoever had followed him was long gone. After five hours, he could not blame them.

He went into his car, turned on the engine and backed out of the driveway. He drove homewards but parked the car in a different lot. He was not going to take any risks.

It was a short walk to his block, and he felt it was well worth the effort. He guessed that his pursuers would think twice about lying in wait for him in the future.

Jonas slept soundly.

To be continued...

To Challenge 424...