Chapter 2
864 Words
5 years later
The evening bus rattled through the city outskirts making the passengers sway with each turn. Sarah stared at her phone, scrolling through texts, when it buzzed with an incoming call. She snatched it up immediately.
"Hello? Grandpa, are you okay? What happened?"
Her voice sharpened. "What? The Finnegan guards are there again?"
A hooded man sitting beside her shifted slightly, his face obscured but his posture suddenly alert.
"Don't worry, I'm almost there. Just hold on for me, okay?" Sarah's fingers tightened around the phone as she ended the call. She punched the stop request button repeatedly.
The bus hadn't fully stopped when she pushed past other passengers and leapt onto the sidewalk. The hooded man followed, maintaining a careful distance. Sarah moved quickly, her steps were urgent, and her shoulders were tight with anxiety. She barely registered the traffic or other pedestrians as she cut through side streets.
The man shadowed her movements, staying just far enough behind. Each time she glanced back, he would pause or adjust his path. But Sarah's mind was elsewhere. It was on her grandfather, on the danger he faced.
They reached a residential area where neat houses gave way to more spacious properties. Sarah turned down a gravel driveway leading to a modest but well-maintained cottage. The surrounding garden was meticulously kept, with flowering bushes and a small vegetable patch.
Outside the house, two men in expensive suits loomed over an elderly man who had fallen to the ground. One of the guards kicked a walking cane out of reach while the old man clutched his leg, face contorted in pain.
"You old man! You better clear out this place for us, or we'll dispose of you and your granddaughter," the taller guard snarled, raising his fist.
"Grandpa!" Sarah screamed, breaking into a run.
Just then, the hooded figure moved like lightning, he was like a blur of motion as he shot past Sarah.
He launched into the air, his foot connecting with the guard's jaw in a perfectly executed flying kick. The impact sent the man sailing backward until he slammed into a tree trunk with a sickening c***k, then slumped to the ground, eyes vacant and unfocused.
The second guard stumbled back, fumbling for something inside his jacket. "How dare you! Do you know who you're up against? The Finnegan Enterprises will destroy you!"
"I'd love to see them try," the hooded man said, his voice low and controlled as he slowly pulled back his hood.
The guard's face drained of color. He scrambled backward on his hands and feet like a crab. "Atl... Atlas Prime? How are you alive?"
Atlas smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "I told you I'd have my revenge. Now I'm back for it." He stepped forward, and the guard flinched. "Go, run back to your masters like the good dog you are. Tell them Atlas Prime is back."
The guard scrambled to his feet, dragged his unconscious colleague by the arms, and half-carried him down the driveway, constantly looking back as if expecting Atlas to follow.
Sarah had reached her grandfather and cradled his head. "Grandpa, are you hurt? Talk to me!"
The old man winced. "My leg. That bastard kicked it hard."
She turned to Atlas, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you. If you hadn't come when you did..."
"Don't mention it," Atlas said, his eyes still tracking the retreating guards. "I have a long business with them."
They helped the old man into a sitting position. His leg was swelling rapidly, a dark bruise spreading across his shin.
"What's going on? Why are they after you?" Atlas asked, crouching beside them.
Sarah brushed hair from her face, leaving a smudge of dirt across her cheek. "This land has been in our family for generations. Finnegan Enterprises wants to take it for some development project." Her voice cracked. "My parents fought them legally for months, but those bastards... they killed them. Made it look like an accident."
Atlas put a hand on her shoulder, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle twitched in his cheek. The familiar rage he'd carried for five years surged through him.
"It's going to be fine," he said. "I'll take care of them for you."
"Why would you help us?" Sarah asked, confusion clear in her red-rimmed eyes.
"Don't misunderstand me," Atlas replied. "It's just that I have the same goal your parents had, but a bit more ruthless, you can say."
He turned to the grandfather and knelt beside the injured leg. Placing his palm over the bruised area, Atlas closed his eyes and murmured words in a language neither Sarah nor her grandfather recognised.
A warm golden light emanated from between his fingers, spreading across the old man's skin. The bruise receded before their eyes, the swelling vanished, and the pain with it.
Sarah gasped. Her grandfather touched his healed leg with trembling fingers.
"What... how did you..." The old man couldn't finish his sentence.
Atlas stood, the golden light fading from his hands. His eyes, when he opened them, seemed to glow for a moment before returning to normal.
"What are you?" Sarah whispered.
- Writer
