Felicio

Enemies in the Riots

Alan

“What are you going to do about the girls?” Mary asked. Her head was against my chest. Her arm draped around me. It was comfortable, but the night was long and we could not sleep.

“What I have to do I guess, I can't do anything else. I'm going to confront Shaw. I don't care who he has in his pocket. He can't be allowed to get away with these things. This needs to stop, now, before the city sinks even further into the cesspool it's becoming.”

“Speaking of that, have you heard about Kaos?”

“I've heard people mention it. Some kind of stimulant.”

“Yeah, I've got a friend in narcotics. They have no idea where it's coming from, but it's all over the city. It started spreading in schools and colleges, bars and clubs, and it's found its way into every sphere of life. It's selling point is that it gives a high without any of the side effects.”

“That sounds too good to be true. I never trust things that sound too good to be true.”

“Me neither, and neither does my friend.”

“So what's he thinking?”

“Nothing good. I-” Mary was cut off by the sounds of both our phones buzzing. That was never a good sign. We answered and quickly pulled on our clothes.

The city was falling.

We sped to the precinct, not caring that people would know we were spending the night together. Some things were more important than that. Both our mouths fell open as we saw an ember glow spread across the night sky. The city pulsed with rampant energy. A low chanting rumbled through the air, and then the sound of glass shattering.

“f**k,” I said, and went as fast as I could.

When we reached the precinct, it was manic. There were calls for squads all over the place, and police were marching out in riot gear.

“We need everyone on the streets now!” the chief bellowed.

“What's happening,” Mary said, pulling aside a cop. His face was ashen.

“The city,” he said, “everyone's gone crazy. They're rioting, going at each other like there's no tomorrow.”

“What started it,” I asked. He didn't know. Nobody knew. It was as though in terrible one moment people had lost their minds and started taking it out on everything around them.

“Come on,” I said, and pulled Mary to the back where we were fitted with a bullet proof vest. These were the moments you feared as a cop. Pursuing a murderer or a serial killer was one thing. You could build a case, wrap a web around them, and gradually tighten it. This was something else entirely. The rules went out of the window. It was all about survival, trying to get things under control until everyone calmed down. We ran outside. The air was hot. Mary and I followed a squad a few blocks south, where a crowd was brawling. They didn't seem to be arguing about anything in particular, just hurling abuse at each other, and their rage quickly turned on us when we announced our presence.

They threw bottles and bits of debris at us. The officer in charge of the squad, a good man named Carl Richardson, bellowed out instructions for them, but none of them listened. A bottle filled with flame looped through the sky towards us. We scattered, but it landed under a car and set it aflame. The smell of burning rubber made me gag and I went to find cover. Then the gunshots began. We pulled out our own guns and began to fire, trying as best we could to make sure they were not fatal wounds, but it was so hard to tell as the smoke from the fire rolled through the city like a mist, hiding the stars as it rose through the sky.

“Keep calm Mary, remember your training, and make your shots count,” I said. Mary nodded. I held her shaking hand. Sometimes it was easy to forget how young she was. We moved forward with the riot police, following them as they tried to split up the groups and chase them away. It was going well, and I started to actually believe we could make it through the night. Then a man with an ax came rushing through the crowd, flailing away at people. He roared with anger and moved so quickly that nobody could get a fix on him. I caught a glimpse of his eyes as he turned. They were filled with madness. Whatever sanity had been left in this city had been eroded.

Then I saw Mary.

“Get out of the way!” I said. She stood with her legs apart, both hands on her gun. I know she was just trying to be a good cop, trying to protect the city, but I could see what was going to happen. She fired one shot. Missed. The ax-wielding maniac closed the distance between them with every step. Mary fired again. This time the slug hit the man in the shoulder, but it wasn't enough to slow him down. He brought the ax back and then swung it, his momentum not stopped by the third shot that hit him in the throat. He collapsed, but the ax continued swinging inexorably. Mary had no hope of moving out of the way. The ax stopped, embedded in the side of her head. She fell down to the ground, next to the man who had killed her.

I was too numb to scream. Why was an old war horse like me still alive when Mary was dead? We were supposed to learn from each other and grow. I stared at her. Sometimes this job threw things at you, but you could always come back from them. I wasn't sure I would be able to come back from this. Every feeling sank from my bones, and I felt so tired, so old. I looked around at the c*****e and caught sight of a woman with a gun. Her face twisted with rage as she took aim, then fired. Maybe it was for the best that it was going to be all over for me.

Felicio

It couldn't be happening. My nightmare was coming true. The sky burned ember and it prevented me from going to save Steph. I wanted to get to her so badly, but the city was dying. I could feel it all around me. Evil was in the air, and I thought I knew what caused it. It had to be Kaos. Somehow that drug had been fed to the masses and now it had taken effect fully. The police had been put on alert but they couldn't be everywhere. I ran around the city as quickly as I could, trying to keep a lid on things, but chaos was everywhere, and Kaos seemed to dull the pain receptors, so people were able to go against me in a fight for longer, which didn't suit me as this particular moment.

I hated having to punch them because they were innocents in this, although it was difficult to remember that when they were trying to take chunks out of each other. It was lucky I healed fast, as I was slashed and torn as I made my way towards the city center, where the rioting was the worst. I punched and ran and kicked and sprinted, still with the image of Emma falling in a hundred different ways. What did it all mean? She'd said that I had been waiting for something, that I couldn't save anyone. That wasn't true. I could. I was a hero, and heroes did the impossible.

Throwing myself into a crowd, I tried to stop thinking and start doing. I let my anger out. For once I didn't have to hold back in a fight, since all these people could take more punishment than usual, and I relished in that fact. I used all my limbs to strike out, dancing around to avoid their blows. I blocked them and fought my way through the mass. For a moment they threatened to swarm me. Their blows rained down on me, but I summoned my inner strength and flung them away. They used whatever weapons they could find, but none of them were skilled enough to slay the mighty Felicio. They fought with strength and rage, but struck out blindly, without thought.

“What do you want?” I cried. None of them could answer me. It was as though all reason had been stripped from them, leaving behind a primitive beast. My sinews stretched and I pushed myself to my limits, thinking that I was fighting this by myself, when through the darkness I saw the police moving through the city. I smiled underneath my mask, glad that I had allies. Surely now they had to realize we were fighting on the same side. I glanced up and quivered with fear as I saw the fog rise and hide the stars. Behind it lay the Shaw fortress, where I was sure all this evil originated.

A loud bellow sounded from behind me. I turned to see an ax-wielding maniac. I ran to try and stop him as he rushed towards a woman. She fired at him. The first shot missed, and I had to dodge it as it flew near me. The next two didn't, but neither did the ax. I couldn't help her, but then I saw another woman with a gun. She was pointing to...Detective Lang. The man who had given me so much trouble. Without a second thought I sprang forward and turned my body, taking the shot in the back. I winced in pain. It would pass soon, but each wound I took did take its toll. Lang seemed in a daze, but he shook himself from it and pulled me aside.

“You hurt?” he asked, without any concern in his voice.

“I heal fast,” I said. “I want to help. This people, they've all gone crazy. I think it's Kaos, and I think I know where it came from. Lang didn't seem to be looking at me though. He stared at the fallen woman. With all the different smells in the air it was difficult for me to discern his, but I could smell sadness, pain, and a little fear. This man had made no secret of his hatred for me, but I hoped he would be willing to put aside his prejudice for now.

“Why couldn't you save her,” he said, looking at me.

“Why couldn't you?” I asked. I'd saved this man's life, and he was going to give me grief yet again. He looked as though he was about to say something else, then gunfire peppered the air.

“You think you know how we can stop this?” he asked.

“I didn't say that, but I think I know where it started.”

“Where's that?” he asked, coughing slightly. I turned and pointed towards the Shaw building.

“Figures,” he said grimly.