THE FIRST
By Joshua Epstein
(LEGAL STUFF: Evan Martin is my creation, and I own him. As this is a world that I am creating based on our own, certain real people may end up appearing, but this story is, in now way, meant as libel or slander to them, they are only there when and if the story requires them to be.)
CHAPTER 1: Hard Nights
Evan leaned against the wall of the 12th street subway station. It had been a long afternoon, and he had been standing there for hours, idly sipping at his latest cup of coffee. The cold of winter hadn't fully burned off from the city yet, and he bit back a shiver, despite his black pea coat and stocking cap. It had definitely been a very long day.
Down the platform a ways, Evan finally spotted what he had been waiting for. A young man in a dark green coat and black ball cap was waiting near the newsstand, looking back and forth, obviously trying to find someone. Evan stuck a piece of gum in his mouth to dampen the coffee taste and walked toward the man.
"What's up, man?" Evan asked casually, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
"Not much. You?"
"Same old. What you got for me?" Evan leaned in a little closer for this last, keeping his voice a little lower.
The young man shrugged. "Dunno, bro. What you got for me?"
"You don't want me flashin' a wad here, do you?"
"Naw, man. Just gimme a number."
"Seven hundred."
"Not bad. I got maybe two, two and a half I can let you have."
"Sounds good. Got it on you?"
"Yeah, man. You?"
"Yep. Hold on, let me dig it out." Evan dug into his back pocket, or so it seemed to the dealer. He pulled the Berretta nine-millimeter from the holster underneath his jacket, then dug his wallet out, flashing the silver shield inside.
"NYPD, pal, you're done for today."
The kid laughed a bit. "Dude, put that shit away before someone sees. You get fucked up around here, pretending to be a cop."
Evan didn't move, but kept the gun leveled on the youth.
"Man, you just gotta take it easy…" The kid's hand shot up and hit the gun to the side, and it went off as Evan squeezed the trigger. The kid hit him square in the stomach and took off running down the platform. Screams were coming from all over the crowd, and people were running from the area, having heard the gunshot.
"Everybody down! NYPD! Get out of the way!!!" Evan had pulled himself to his feet and was sprinting after the kid. The sound of shoes on concrete echoed as they ran to more deserted parts of the track. Evan was rounding a corner when a foot shot out and tripped him, sending him sprawling. The youth sprang from the shadows and kicked him hard in the ribs. Evan grunted with the impact and rolled over, clasping a hand to his side.
"Damned pig…" The youth was out of breath, but had the energy to deliver another vicious kick to the curled up policeman. "Had to come and fuck up my spot…" Another kick. "Now I'm gonna fuck you up!" He swung is foot for another kick, but Evan's hand shot out and grabbed the leg, then he lurched up, his elbow colliding with the side of the kid's knee. The crack of bone and cartilege echoed in the empty tunnel. The youth screamed as he went down to his other knee and tried to pull a gun from inside his jacket. Evan kicked hard at the kid's hand, sending the weapon flying. On his feet now, he delivered a hard right cross, laying the young dealer out cold.
"You have the right to remain silent."
He walked to the other side of the tunnel and retrieved his gun from where it had fallen when he fell. He tucked it into the holster on his belt and opened his jacket, running a hand along the thick Kevlar vest that was under his shirt.
"Thank god for thinking ahead." He looked at the unconscious criminal on the ground. "And now I have to drag your sorry ass all the way back… god damn…"
By Joshua Epstein
(LEGAL STUFF: Evan Martin is my creation, and I own him. As this is a world that I am creating based on our own, certain real people may end up appearing, but this story is, in now way, meant as libel or slander to them, they are only there when and if the story requires them to be.)
CHAPTER 1: Hard Nights
Evan leaned against the wall of the 12th street subway station. It had been a long afternoon, and he had been standing there for hours, idly sipping at his latest cup of coffee. The cold of winter hadn't fully burned off from the city yet, and he bit back a shiver, despite his black pea coat and stocking cap. It had definitely been a very long day.
Down the platform a ways, Evan finally spotted what he had been waiting for. A young man in a dark green coat and black ball cap was waiting near the newsstand, looking back and forth, obviously trying to find someone. Evan stuck a piece of gum in his mouth to dampen the coffee taste and walked toward the man.
"What's up, man?" Evan asked casually, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
"Not much. You?"
"Same old. What you got for me?" Evan leaned in a little closer for this last, keeping his voice a little lower.
The young man shrugged. "Dunno, bro. What you got for me?"
"You don't want me flashin' a wad here, do you?"
"Naw, man. Just gimme a number."
"Seven hundred."
"Not bad. I got maybe two, two and a half I can let you have."
"Sounds good. Got it on you?"
"Yeah, man. You?"
"Yep. Hold on, let me dig it out." Evan dug into his back pocket, or so it seemed to the dealer. He pulled the Berretta nine-millimeter from the holster underneath his jacket, then dug his wallet out, flashing the silver shield inside.
"NYPD, pal, you're done for today."
The kid laughed a bit. "Dude, put that shit away before someone sees. You get fucked up around here, pretending to be a cop."
Evan didn't move, but kept the gun leveled on the youth.
"Man, you just gotta take it easy…" The kid's hand shot up and hit the gun to the side, and it went off as Evan squeezed the trigger. The kid hit him square in the stomach and took off running down the platform. Screams were coming from all over the crowd, and people were running from the area, having heard the gunshot.
"Everybody down! NYPD! Get out of the way!!!" Evan had pulled himself to his feet and was sprinting after the kid. The sound of shoes on concrete echoed as they ran to more deserted parts of the track. Evan was rounding a corner when a foot shot out and tripped him, sending him sprawling. The youth sprang from the shadows and kicked him hard in the ribs. Evan grunted with the impact and rolled over, clasping a hand to his side.
"Damned pig…" The youth was out of breath, but had the energy to deliver another vicious kick to the curled up policeman. "Had to come and fuck up my spot…" Another kick. "Now I'm gonna fuck you up!" He swung is foot for another kick, but Evan's hand shot out and grabbed the leg, then he lurched up, his elbow colliding with the side of the kid's knee. The crack of bone and cartilege echoed in the empty tunnel. The youth screamed as he went down to his other knee and tried to pull a gun from inside his jacket. Evan kicked hard at the kid's hand, sending the weapon flying. On his feet now, he delivered a hard right cross, laying the young dealer out cold.
"You have the right to remain silent."
He walked to the other side of the tunnel and retrieved his gun from where it had fallen when he fell. He tucked it into the holster on his belt and opened his jacket, running a hand along the thick Kevlar vest that was under his shirt.
"Thank god for thinking ahead." He looked at the unconscious criminal on the ground. "And now I have to drag your sorry ass all the way back… god damn…"