“Today marks the third day since the downtown blockades were erected. Authorities have pushed back the rioting crowds and instituted an 8 p.m. curfew. All civilians living around the downtown area are advised to stay in their homes and only travel for essential purposes. The government expects to finish quelling the protests in just a few more days, but until then it’s requested that all citizens abstain from gathering in large groups until further notice.”
Zach crouched down, switching off the portable radio sitting beside him, drowning out the screams of agony he had diligently cultivated in the room. His sleeves were rolled up and his face was covered in blood. It wasn’t his own, it belonged to the man laying face down in front of him. The man’s suit was torn, his face barely recognizable, and several of his limbs jutting out at odd angles. He’d been a tough nut to crack. It had taken some special effort to get him to talk. Zach had to practice it on several others before he had the process refined enough to work. They didn’t make it, not that Zach really cared. Accidents happened; it was life.
He’d been hunting as many suits as he could after his talk with Vinny. It hadn’t been hard. Somehow a rumor had gotten out that a man was traveling with a normal human and wanted to talk. It had been a simple matter from there to apprehend them and begin the process of extracting as much information as possible.
Names of people, places, and organizations were dropped in between screams of agony as Zach worked. He didn’t recognize most of them and figured they were probably some low level thugs or officials, not that there was usually much of a difference or that he cared much. There was only one thing he wanted, which was conspicuously absent from the lips of each suit he interrogated. There was no mention of Emily; it was as if she’d vanished without a trace.
Zach was about to declare the whole thing a loss and finish his work with his last victim, when one last name slid from the suit’s busted, swollen lips. It was barely audible, a breathed gasp of a faint rumor that Zach couldn’t help but believe instantly. The suits and secrecy, the kidnapping and bribery, it all made sense that someone with deep pockets and something to hide would be behind it. The rot of the city went all the way to the top after all. It was only fitting that Zach would have to make his way to the office of the governor to get to the bottom of this lake of poison.
A quick pop and a snapped neck later, and Zach could already feel the ideas flooding his mind in a confused vortex. There was so much to do, and he didn’t exactly know how he was going to do it. All he knew was that he was going to get Emily back, and he was going to do his best to take a blowtorch to everything else on his way out.
He stood up, rolling down his sleeves and smoothing out his clothes, oblivious to the blood he smeared all over them. His new mission was going to be tricky, and he knew he didn’t have much time. He’d already wasted so much of that precious resource extracting information, a process he knew wasn’t over; not yet anyways.
Still, now was the time to act. Zach just hoped that what he had was enough, that he was strong and smart enough to pull this off. He was willing to die trying, but for Emily’s sake he hoped he didn’t have to.
It took Zach longer than he wanted to reach the city’s center, where the governor’s mansion lay in all its decadence. He’d been forced to hitch a ride on the city’s mass transit, a difficult and risky task as it was reserved exclusively for the well-to-do and those on official city business. It took all of the caution and stealth he could muster to slip aboard one of the several bullet trains that navigated the city. Even in spite of that, he found he was forced to make several interchanges a normal person wouldn’t to ensure he wasn’t caught. The last thing he needed was to make a scene if he could avoid it.
What would usually have been a trip of a few hours became one that lasted all day, ending with the blaze of the setting sun in between the skyscrapers, rising like mountains in the inner city. Not that Zach had time to watch sunsets, as he barreled through the now rapidly darkening streets toward his ever approaching goal.
Things had gone surprisingly smoothly thus far. He’d encountered several guards and officials, all of whom were on high alert, but none seemed to pay him attention. Zach thought that was odd as he charged through the empty streets of downtown. It wasn’t until he heard shouting and loud banging noises that he slowed down, a thought occurring to him.
He slammed a fist into a nearby wall as he berated himself for being so blind. The riots had been going on for weeks, and all the streets were blocked off. Any hope for a stealthy entrance into the governor’s mansion vanished as he was suddenly forced to adjust his whole plan. His pulse throbbing with rage at himself and his new situation, he had an idea. It wasn’t a good idea, he knew it, but it was a plan.
As casually as he could, with his pulse hammering in his chest, Zach walked toward the sounds of commotion. As darkness continued to fall, they grew louder, being joined by flashing lights and piercing screams. It felt like forever, moving as calmly as he was toward the impending chaos that he knew he’d find. Still, he was caught off guard when he arrived to find the city police engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a throng of protesters, the shattered remnant of a steel blockade scattered about the street.
They packed the street elbow-to-elbow and had somehow managed to break through the barrier the police had set up to keep them from the governor’s mansion. Now they were forcing the police back by sheer force of numbers and whatever abilities they had, rending the air with the sounds of violence as the two groups struggled against each other. Bodies lined a good portion of the street being trampled on by the press, as people from both sides cried out in pain.
Zach was impressed, all things considered, even if he was also a little annoyed. The city made it a priority to have the most powerful and dangerous men it could find in its employ, and still they were being overrun. It was slow, the mass of resisting guards being fairly sizable, but it was only a matter of time until they were driven back by sheer numbers alone.
Zach couldn’t resist a smirk. There was no way the city officials could’ve ever seen that coming.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Still, he found it difficult to push through the battling masses as bullets and undefined energy blasts whizzed around him and he was forced to elbow past protestor and officer alike. One man took an energy beam to the chest, falling right at Zach’s feet and nearly tripping him, just as another beam was sent his way. He narrowly dodged it, as it crackled into a protester beside him. Not that he paid much attention to it, he didn’t have time.
He didn’t care about some civil war erupting around him; he cared about Emily, and with every inch the protesters got closer to the governor’s mansion, the harder it would be for him to obtain the information he needed. He just didn’t have time. In a fit of rage and frustration, Zach decided to throw caution to the winds. Shoving aside the throng that pressed against him, he charged forward.
It was stupid, suicidal even. As he crashed through the broken chaos of combat straight toward the collected frontline of the remaining guards. He expected them to raise their guns, to shoot him down on the spot, but all he saw were their stunned faces as he shot like a bullet towards them.
The collision was predictable, Zach’s enhanced strength powering him through the petrified guards in his way. They crumpled as he made impact, grinding their bodies into the asphalt as he trampled over them, completely unimpeded by their existence.
Before the guards could recover from their shock, the mobbing crowd of protestors filled into the gap created by Zach’s sudden rampage. This left Zach completely unmolested, as he crashed through the crowd and out into the open, right in front of the mansion. It was a pristine building, tall and proud, made of chiseled marble and other stones Zach couldn’t identify. It would’ve been breathtaking, with massive columns and twisting spires that dwarfed even other works of its kind, but Zach didn’t have time to focus on such trivialities. His feet cracked the perfect stone of the building’s marble porch as he launched himself toward the massive, solid front doors at the front of the structure.
They shattered under his powerful strength, splintering inwards and bursting out into the mansion’s foyer in scattered pieces. Zach stood in the doorway, his fist split and bleeding from the sheer power of the impact but otherwise braced for a fight. None came. The foyer of the mansion, decked with a luxurious carpet that was now destroyed by shattered wood fragments and ornate portraits lining the walls, was utterly devoid of people. There were no guards waiting in the wings to attack him or officials to harangue him. There was no one.
Zach wasn’t certain what to do. He hadn’t expected to make it this far, especially not like this. For a moment he just stood there, contemplating what to do looking around the room for some sign of a trap or his target. All he saw were dozens of doors lining the foyer and a massive staircase leading to the next floor that dominated the center.
He clenched his fist in frustration. It would take forever to search this place, assuming the governor was even here and hadn’t just been evacuated somewhere safe. There was no way he could do it before the protestors burst in and brought the whole place down. He needed more time; he always needed more time.
In a fit of rage, Zach slammed his fist into the massive door frame beside him, feeling it buckle under his might. At the same time, he let out a bellow of inhuman rage that ripped through the house, loud enough to wake the dead. It wasn’t long, just enough for Zach to feel the pressure of his emotions deflate inside him, before he slumped to his knees; defeated.
“Well, that is quite a house call.” Came a calm, baritone voice over Zach’s head.
Looking up, he saw that it came from an unmistakable old man standing atop the stairway in the middle of the room. He was tall, standing rigidly straight despite his age, and clad in an exquisite suit. In one hand he clasped a magnificent cane and his face, covered in a luxurious beard, held a hint of entertainment in the eyes. It was as though he found his situation to be funny. Still, he had an air of confidence about him, as though he was someone who was used to wielding authority.
“I have to admit,” The governor laughed, his voice light and mirthful. It was surprisingly clear for someone of his age. “I was expecting guests, but I wasn’t expecting one quite like you. Is there a reason you’re bothering me right now? I am kind of in the middle of something.”
“Where’s Emily?” Zach demanded, not bothering to mince words.
The old man stared at him blankly.
“Who?” He asked, confused.
“WHERE’S EMILY!?” Zach roared, lunging up the stairs at the elderly man and grabbing him by the collar.
The governor, for his part, remained placid as he was lifted off the ground by Zach’s might. He made no comment to Zach’s accusations, responding with only a mildly befuddled expression.
This only enraged Zach even more, blood pounding up to his head and further clouding his already obscured senses. Before he could get a grip on himself, he swung his fist; intent on taking off the man’s head. It landed with such force that it wrench the governor out of his grip, sending him flying through a wall and into a nearby room.
Silently kicking himself for his loss of control, Zach picked his way into the now destroyed room. It was a mess of splinters, dust, and furniture, and, in the center of ruin, the crumpled heap of the old governor; unmoving.
Zach wasn’t sure what to do. He’d just ruined his only opportunity to find Emily, all because he couldn’t control himself. How many times had he hammered it into her that mind was better than might, and yet, whenever things got tricky, he always resorted to his fists?
He couldn’t take it; he fell to his knees, sobbing in anger and defeat. Everything blurred as great tears dropped from his eyes, rolling down his angular cheeks and splashing onto the dust-covered rubbled beneath him.
His reverie went on for several minutes, before it was suddenly interrupted by a smooth baritone laugh that suddenly broke through the cloudy air. The crumpled body of the governor, still folded over itself in the center of the rubble, shook with mirth before suddenly unfurling itself. The governor’s luxurious coat was tattered and ruined and there was a massive purple mark on his face where Zach had hit him, but otherwise he bore no sign of damage. In fact, most of the damage he had appeared to be only superficial at most, even though Zach knew by the strength he’d used that the man should’ve been dead.
“That was quite a punch.” He said, feeling his face tenderly. “Whoever this Emily is, you must really want to find her.”
“I do.” Zach responded flatly. He had to visibly strain to keep his emotions from showing, and he refused to repeat his previous mistake. He couldn’t let his feelings take control, no matter what. “Let’s just say, a trustworthy source told me that you were connected to rounding up normal people for some reason.
“Well now,” The governor responded, cracking his neck and a smile at the same time. “A normal person attached to such a powerful person as yourself, that is interesting. That’s always been a subject of interest to me, you know that? Why do our powers work the way they do?”
“I really don’t care.” Zach returned sharply. “I just want to know what you’ve done with Emily.”
“Fine, I’ll tell you.” The governor surrendered, raising a finger in the air. “On one condition. Being nigh invincible breeds arrogance, humble me and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“Oh, you will.” Zach replied, cracking his knuckles and grinning. “I’ll make sure of that. You’re tough, but everyone has limits.”
The governor just glanced at Zach’s bleeding hand and smiled softly.
“Yes,” He returned. “Yes, they do.”