Downfall

A Chapter by Peregrinator7

When a not-so-ordinary family gets back from an ordinary camping trip...

They reached the city. Skyscrapers towered over the streets like giants, casting a foreboding shadow, and blocking out the sunny day with a colossal hand that seemed to miss sometimes, causing small beams of light to stream into the crevices of the buildings and hit the street. In this jagged world of clear sky, shadows and small sunbeams, a small red Civic raced through the streets with four passengers inside, each unsure of their destination. The driver had piercing green eyes and long, curly blonde locks of hair that reached her shoulders. Her eyes were fixed on the road, white-knuckled hands clasping the steering wheel, that jerked occasionally to avoid obstacles. The passenger looked on at her with curiosity, wondering where the determination and the haste came from in her driving. He had shaggy jet-black hair, with a deep red scar that ran the length of his face and small stitches barely holding it together, and if they came off, one might worry that his whole head would split in half. The one eye he still had was such a deep brown that it was often mistaken as black, which was fine in his case, as he was wearing nothing but black; a black hoodie that hid his face, black jeans, and black tennis shoes with black laces. Even his socks were black. In contrast, his skin was as pale as a ghost, and his bony and bruised hands shook when he moved them. He turned to the driver. “Where are we going, Arke?” he asked.

The driver didn’t reply for some time, eyes still fixed on the road in front of her. “Away,” she said softly.

“Away from where?”

Arke jerked the wheel abruptly, and a small crying voice erupted from the backseat. The passenger waved in the sound’s direction, which was coming from a baby that had been sleeping.

“Hey, you made him cry,” he complained. He looked at the baby and the toddler in the backseat, who was staring at him with eyes just like her mother’s, green and piercing. A toy airplane was in her hand, and he had learned to ignore the ‘engine’ sounds that usually came from the back of the car.

Arke didn’t reply. Her gaze remained on the road. The passenger turned back around towards the front and gazed out the window as the crying behind him subsided. Somehow, somehow, they had managed to have a completely normal week. A completely normal date. A trip to the park. A day in a hotel, praying that no one would notice them. But they were successful. The camping trip to the river had been just as normal, too. Just beautiful nights under the stars, and s'mores, and kayaking and swimming and playing hide and seek in the woods until one of them got lost and it took the rest of the day to find them, and laughing until their bellies hurt, and accidentally setting their pants on fire trying to teach a two-year-old how to roast a marshmallow, and just those silent moments in the firelight, orange flickering on each of their faces. He smiled. He would remember this week, for the dullness and the slight inconveniences that made him laugh in hindsight.

But now… they had to go back to the life they were given, where death was just around the corner, and the unexpected was imperative, and complete decimation and embarrassment if your guard was down for a split second, and danger out of some of the strangest things. Speaking of weird… the passenger narrowed his eyes as he spotted a black sports car in the front of an alleyway. And another one a few blocks after. He noticed that as the Civic passed them, they rolled onto the street, following them. The passenger turned to Arke. “Is it just me, or… are those cars up to something?” By now, about a dozen cars were tailgating them as they made their way through the city.

Arke had broken her fixed gaze, and her eyes now darted to and fro, towards the alleyways, where black cars sat like hawks awaiting prey. She abruptly turned onto a side street.

“Arke, is something wro�"” He never finished his sentence, however, as Arke violently pulled over, wheels squealing, and unlocked the car. “Get out, get out!” she hissed, pushing the passenger to open the door. “Take the kids!”

He obeyed, having learned not to question Arke’s ways. As he tried to pull the toddler out, he sent Arke a funny glance. “Are you coming?”

The driver looked at her lap for a moment, and then stared straight at him. “No,” she finally said firmly. “I need to do this alone.”

“Arke, what’s going on?”

She waved him over to the driver’s side of the car. “I love you, okay?” Arke gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Little did he know that was the last kiss she would ever give him.

“Arke…”

“You have to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you! You’re the Eagle.”

“Then take my word for it. Now help Adira out of the car.”

Hurrying over to the passenger side, he pulled the stubborn toddler out of the car, who dropped her toy airplane in the car seat. She stared after it longingly after he closed the door. “I’ll be back, alright?” Arke shouted towards him.

He didn’t reply. He just stood at the edge of the sidewalk staring, until the question registered in his mind. He bobble-headed a small nod.

And with a screeching of wheels, the Eagle was off.

He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded at what had just happened. Then, coming to his senses, he slapped his forehead. “Why did I let her do that?!” he said to himself. “Just her against… two dozen cars?! I need to stop her.” Thinking fast, he spotted an escape ladder and darted up it with the cargo of a disappointed toddler and a crying baby. On the rooftop, he searched for the sound of burning rubber against asphalt and followed it. Down in the street he could see the red Civic barrelling away from about 50 black cars, each a different shape and size. But all black with tinted windows.

Who would hide themselves in a car chase?

He knew they were hated, in more ways than one, but especially together. It could be anyone chasing Arke. So he had to chase the chase.

As the Civic shot by him in the cracked valleys of sunlight and darkness, he thought what Arke was thinking as she came by. A lone figure on a rooftop, a puny mortal standing on the head of one of the stone giants that loomed above. Perhaps she knew it was him, as he had a reputation of standing on things. Especially giants.

The black cars came by at lightspeed, but they couldn’t seem to catch up with the little Civic that flew on the road, swiftly navigating obstacles and traffic. It seemed she was safe for a moment, until more black cars sped out of alleyways and swarmed the road in hot pursuit as well. He had to help her. Scooping up Adira, he eyed the nearest giant.

He took a running start and cleared the building.

Adira’s eyes flashed in amazement. For a moment, suspended in midair, he thought she would say something, but she didn’t. Even when his feet hit stone, she didn’t say anything. Would that kid ever talk? She had never said anything in her life, just the engine noises that made her airplane fly.

That was his stupid thought as he trailed the chase, clearing the giants’ shoulders, and occasionally peeking over the edge of the roof to check if he was catching up. He knew this city like the back of his hand, though, and even though the chase had the advantage of speed, he had the advantage of knowledge. And knowledge never seemed to fail.

In time, he would take that back.

But for now, he was the giant-hopper. And the giant-hopper decided to take a shortcut. He wouldn’t be able to see where the chase would go, but he had a feeling he knew where it would end. Trusting his instincts, he jumped to a building he knew he wouldn’t clear. Instead of a comical dent in the wall and a tumble to the ground, he landed on a ladder rung and slid down it like a pole, landing in one of the dark alleyways. He surveyed the alleyway. A garbage can to his right, a manhole to his left. He chose the manhole.

Prying open the lid, he once again slid down the manhole like some sort of giant-hopping acrobat and landed in smelly slush. Besides the giants, the pipes were the other alternative transportation. He stared down the dark tube. The baby on his back cried even harder, and his wails reverberated throughout the sewer. No one was here. He listened for the sounds of dozens and dozens of cars rushing by, and it came to him. He started on, his feet splashing in the murky stuff and soaking his shoes through to his pale feet. He ran, listened, waited. Ran some more, listened, and waited. About ten minutes passed of running, listening, and waiting. Adira found it boring, and yawning, she fell asleep on his shoulder. He finally found where he needed to go. Fingers clasping a cold and long unused ladder, he climbed up into another alleyway. The sound of squealing tires could be heard in the distance, and they started to come closer. It was perfect. He had trapped the chase. If only the next moment were perfect.

He turned and ran one last time, this time into the street. A pristine building sat at the end of it, possibly the only one that received sunlight the whole day. The fountain at its front doorstep glistened with the gurgling sound of water.

Just then, the chase passed him.

Arke had managed to deplete the numbers of the chasers a great deal, and now only about ten cars pursued her. She rolled down the window of the Civic, peering with big eyes and mussed hair at him.

“I’m almost there! You need to warn them!” she shouted.

“Warn who?” He was staring, wide-eyed, at the figure standing behind the fountain of the pristine building. He had something in his hand. A remote of some sorts… Arke’s head swiveled to see the figure. It took a split second to register what was going to happen. He could see Arke jerk the steering wheel violently, but it was too late.

“ZAVIER! DO SOMETHING!”

But he couldn’t. He could only stand there, frozen to the pavement, clutching his daughter’s arm with one hand and holding his son with the other.

“ARKE!” he screamed, and stretched out his hand, like it would stop what was coming next.

In the next instant, his eardrums shattered, split in two, and bled at the same time. His whole body shook, threatening to take him to the ground. Red and black and gray and moisture were flung up into the air at the same time. The only thing he could hear over the explosion were his screams.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And then it was over.

The red and black and gray and moisture had curled itself up in the air, and now silently drifted to the ground, asleep. The pristine building was now splattered with the scars of the smoke and the colors and wetness. As the smoke fell, a crater became visible where the Civic and the fountain had been. That was all that was left. The gurgling fountain? Gone. The red Civic? Gone. The Eagle?

Gone.

Zavier remained standing, the trademark stare of horror and loss etched onto his face. The colors had made their way onto his pale skin, making his face darker than it ever would be again, and had blown his hood off, revealing his true identity. All that was left of him was one word.

“No.”

He stared down at the child that was still hanging onto him. Her face was charred from the explosion. She stared up at him with big green eyes. “Where’s mommy?”

Of all the times and places Adira could have said her first words, she said them here.

Zavier could barely answer. His eye welled up into tears. “Mommy?... She’s… gone.”

Adira continued to stare up at him, as if searching for something. “Where?”

Closing his eyes, Zavier let a tear roll down his cheek. “I don’t know.”

Black cars gradually rolled into the wreckage site, more like a pack of wolves now than hawks on light poles. The drivers, upon seeing Zavier, panicked and drew weapons. They chattered like a pack of wolves, too.

“It’s Darknight!”

“What is he doing here?”

“It doesn’t matter, remember what the boss said!”

Zavier’s eyes narrowed. He let go of Adira’s hand and approached the drivers. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his voice shaky.

The weapons started to quiver in the driver’s hands. They said nothing.

“Fine then,” Zavier spat. “Now you’ll never answer!” He outstretched his hand, like he had done before, but this time, one of the drivers was flung back and hit a black car with a sickening crunch. He slumped to the ground, lifeless.

“Fire!” someone ordered, but it was too late. The gun the one of the drivers had just been holding was ripped out of his hands and into the hands of Zavier. He pointed it at the drivers maniacally and pulled the trigger.

In ten seconds, gunshots still rang in the air, blood painted the street, and five men were dead.

Realizing what he had done, Zavier dropped the gun and sprinted over to Adira, who had started to wander into the alleyway. Scooping her up, he rose into the air, tears already starting to sting his eyes. He mumbled something to himself as he began to soar above the giants.

“Whatever it takes, whatever the cost is, he will be wiped off the face of the earth. I will make it sure that I avenge your death. He will be demolished and not a trace of him will be left in the universe. No one messes with you. And no one messes with me.”

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