Age of Power 1: Legacy by Jon Davis

pocket.
    He held up a
forefinger and said, “One; this may be a small town, but we still have police.”
    He raised another
finger, “Two; the phones still work.”
    Then, he pointed
down at Red Hair and said, “And three; he was warned.”
    Alex met my
eyes. I didn’t know what to say. His voice was hard and flat, and from the way
he was standing, I knew that he hadn’t just killed in self-defense. No, he
had chosen to kill. All the years of thinking he was just putting on
an act of being hard and edgy fell away. The mask was off, the real mask. When
it came down to it, Alex really was hard-core.
    But I didn’t
have time to think much about it. Cop cars came screeching to a stop in front
of the store. Reacting with panic, the convicts turned to run out the back.
They made it only so far before police rushed in to stop them.
    Yelling filled
the store while I crouched, hoping I wouldn’t catch a bullet. But no guns
fired. After a more few minutes, I heard someone calling my name. Slowly,
I looked and saw convicts pushed down on their stomachs with cops cuffing them.
I saw a cop helping Brand to his feet. Another officer reached out a hand to
help me. Getting to my feet, I looked up and saw a man coming in from the front
window.
    The man looked
down at the convicts and snarled. He sounded disgusted as he said, “Get these
sons of bitches out of here.”
    Police Chief
Michael Sinclair was a tall man with reddish hair styled in a military cut. He
had the same ice blue eyes as Brand. His build wasn’t the biggest, but there
was this feeling of hard authority that just existed wherever he went. Maybe it
was the way he stood, calm, confident, yet coiled and ready to strike. I was so
glad to see him and his police force.
    Coming farther
in, he stopped at the body of Red Hair. He bent to look at him for a moment and
sighed, “James Jessup. Well, he promised he’d be back. Damn bastard…”
    The police
gently guided us outside, and soon Brand and I were both in an ambulance. After
some pokes, prods, and many questions, an elderly man in an older looking EMT
jacket told Sinclair that we were mainly just scared and shocked. Afterward,
sitting on the bumper of the ambulance, I looked over at Alex talking with
Sinclair.
    From what I
overheard, Alex had been walking around town when he had seen us. He had been
about to call out to us when the convicts had yanked Brand into the store. By
the time he reached us, I had already gone into the store. Instead of being
stupid and coming into the store, as I had done, he called the cops. But things
were moving too fast for him to wait, so he had to make the decisions that he
did. They were very cold and hard decisions.
    And he had saved
our lives. I met his eyes at one point and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
    Alex looked at
me for a moment, and nodded slightly. Then he looked up, as did Chief Sinclair.
I looked over and smiled while both Brands and my parents came running up. For
the next few moments, we were too busy hugging our worried, but happy,
parents. I lost sight of Alex for a few minutes. But, as Mom and Dad talked
with Sinclair, I glimpsed him walking away, his hands in his trench coat
pockets. I hoped I’d see him one last time before the end.

 
 

CHAPTER THREE

 
 
 
    And the Day came. Nothing more  could be
said  about it. When we awoke that morning, the world was as ready
as it was going to get. On the Day, the talk shows were quiet. The news stories
were of people making noble decisions to come together to settle their
differences. Leaders declared peace throughout the world, and governments and
armies laid down their arms. Governors were releasing criminals from prisons to
be with their families. People also married or divorced at the last minute, if
only to finish  up things  in their personal
lives. All these last minute announcements pushed more than one desk anchor to
suggest that this would be humanity’s finest hour.
    I didn’t believe