Two weeks later
Sunday, May 4th, 2014
Evening
The boy was creeping down an alley; it was about nine in the evening.
He had just whacked a drug dealer; the bastard was alive, just, but he had relieved him of a couple of hundred dollars. However, when he was a few hundred yards away, he had run into a little problem.
"Police! Don't move!"
The boy started to turn, slowly.
"I said, don't move!"
He dropped the baton and raised up hands up and to the side.
"Get up against the wall!"
The boy did as he was told, and he felt his wrists being seized, then cuffed. He was then spun around, and he felt his mask ripped off.
"Christ, a fucking kid!" the black, plain clothed, detective exclaimed. "You even started puberty yet?"
"Fuck you!" the boy responded, feeling offended by the question.
He may have looked young, but he was not that fucking young.
"Look kid, it is way past your bedtime," the detective said, yanking out the boy's pistol.
The boy just stared at the officer; the badge around his neck said he was a Lieutenant. The man looked the boy up and down, before groaning.
"Please, tell me you aren't one of those fucked up vigilantes."
"What if I were?" the boy responded, feeling a tiny ray of hope.
"For some strange reason, I have a soft touch for vigilantes, kid," the detective explained.
"I am a vigilante, maybe not a good one, but I'm trying," the boy said with as much conviction as he could muster.
"I'm gonna give you a chance to rethink your life, kid," the detective said, spinning the boy around and unlocking the handcuffs. "You aren't the first kid that I've seen follow this course and lose their childhood."
"Thanks," the boy said, a little confused.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Joshua Williams," the boy replied.
"Take this; you need help, you call me," the detective said, handing Joshua a card, before getting into his car and driving off.
Joshua stuffed the card into a pocket and he pulled his mask back on. The detective had taken his pistol, but he had left the baton.
..._...
Joshua decided not to risk myself again that night; he knew not to tempt fate too much.
Maybe, I should rethink his life. He could hand myself in; he would be taken into care, but he would have somewhere normal to live and he would go back to school. Maybe they would send him back to the UK. He had no life, in either country, he supposed.
His life was really fucked up.
The Safehouse
Joshua had stripped out of all his clothes, and he was just about to get in the shower, when he had a thought.
He dug through his pockets and he found the card that the police lieutenant had given him. The name was interesting; it had the same surname as his own. 'Lieutenant Marcus Williams', was the name on the card. He placed the card, carefully away, in case he might need it. He still could not quite believe that the police officer had let him go.
Joshua went back to his shower.
The following evening
Monday, May 5th
He went out again.
Bad idea. He tried to help a family that was being attacked; he failed – badly. He had just passed an alley, when he heard a scream. He turned and ran down the alley, keeping to the shadows. He saw a woman and a young girl, just as a man smacked the woman across the face and when the girl screamed, she was slapped, hard. Joshua lost his focus and he never heard another man come up beside me and smack him hard across the face, causing his vision to swim and he fell down, dropping the baton. Joshua kicked out, with his right foot and he caught the knee of the man who had attacked him. The man screamed, and he punched Joshua in the side of his chest. The pain exploded like fire across the boy and he gasped with the pain.
Adrenalin started flowing, and he braced himself, before pushing back up, and he started laying into the man, with every ounce of strength that I could muster. He managed to lay the man out cold, but as he turned towards the woman and the child, he found that the other man was gone, and the woman was bleeding badly, from a chest wound. The little girl was alive, but unconscious. Joshua pulled out his cell, hesitated, then pulled out the card. He dialled the number and waited. He recognised the voice that answered. The voice sounded friendly, well, as close to friendly as he had in the world right at that moment. Joshua gave the lieutenant the location of the alley and he told him about the situation, before hanging up. He stayed with the little girl, until a paramedic arrived, then he ran.
..._...
He felt like shit, when he finally returned to the Safehouse.
He had failed, and that woman might die. That girl might become an orphan . . . just like him.
Oh Christ, Joshua thought, he really was no good at being a vigilante.
One week later
Friday, May 16th
Evening
Joshua was in considerable pain.
It had only been a week, since his most recent beating; he still had the bruises that were now being added to by others. The big bruiser kicked him hard, in the left thigh, causing the boy to scream out. Joshua fell to the alley floor and he rolled a few feet. He felt tears on his face, due to the pain. He also felt anger and he felt the adrenalin surging through him. He was not going to die. It was not about to be the end of Joshua Williams. He forced myself to take deep breaths and he grabbed for his pistol. The tall bastard had pulled off Joshua's mask, before starting the beating. He had also removed the boy's pistol, ejecting the magazine and dumping it on the alley floor. Joshua had another magazine in his left hand, ready to insert.
Another kick, this time to his chest, followed by an unintentional scream. He grabbed for the pistol, inserted the magazine, and pulled back on the slide. Joshua rolled over and he fired two rounds into the chest of the tall bastard who had kicked him. Blood splashed down onto his face, he rolled again and fired one round, before the pistol was kicked from his hand; the bullet missed the second bastard. Joshua rolled, kicking out and connecting with somebody's knee, causing a loud exclamation of pain. He reached for a fighting knife and he threw it hard, towards another bruiser, catching the bastard in the upper chest and he dropped, screaming for a second, before going silent. Joshua grabbed up another knife, flicking it into another bruiser. He rolled across the alley floor, before I was able to regain my feet. Just two more men were left. He ran forward and dived for his pistol, sweeping it up and rolling onto his back, firing off four shots, two to each chest and both men dropped.
Joshua was exhausted; he scrambled to his feet and he left the alley, as quickly as I could.
The Safehouse
He made it back to the Safehouse and he collapsed onto the couch.
The pain was a lot worse and he struggled to get out of his vest and other clothes. Once he was undressed, I checked out his bruises. The boy's back was covered in bruises, as were both sides of his chest and the left side of his stomach. One bastard had kicked him in the groin, causing some bruising to the inner left thigh, but luckily, the kick had missed anything more painful or anything which Joshua might need later on in life. He managed to get a shower, allowing the hot water to soothe his aching muscles.
Joshua grabbed a brief meal and he climbed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
Updated: January 2018