Peter Summers: Blake! I need you to take your brother and mother and run!
Huh?
Blake groggily wiped the sleep from his eyes as he sat up in his bed. Through the window, the faint light of dawn illuminated his bedroom. He involuntarily yawned and then slowly reread the message his father had sent him.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Huh? What’s going on?
Peter Summers: The cops are here! You need to get the others and run before they find you!
Blake closed his eyes and groaned.
We were so close! The shield will be up tomorrow afternoon!
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Are they inside the wall?
Peter Summers: Not yet. They’re outside the front gate. I’m stalling, but they say they have a warrant.
Damn. There goes pretending no one’s home.
Blake shook off his fatigue, rolled out of bed, grabbed his plated trousers, and began to armor himself. By habit, he kept his equipment beside his bed for easy access in case of emergencies.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Okay. Dad, we aren’t abandoning this town, and I’m definitely not leaving you. I’ll just have to distract them until the shield generator is completed, then there’s nothing they can do.
Peter Summers: That’s days away!
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Tomorrow afternoon, actually. Sit tight, I’ll be right there.
He quickly donned the rest of the armor, slipped his quiver over his back, and then looped the bow through his arm. Blake then glanced at his spear, which leaned against the wall.
Better not.
Instead, he located a small, level two knife with a five-inch blade and attached it to his belt. After one last glance around his bedroom to ensure there was nothing forgotten, he strode into the hallway, and then outside.
It was early in the morning, and the sun barely illuminated his path. Almost no one was awake. However, as a chef, his father was used to waking long before dawn to get breakfast ready. It was likely the reason why he was the one to greet the police rather than someone else.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Hey Montgomery! Jeff! Wake up! The cops are here. I need you two to watch the walls to make sure no one tries to climb them.
Jeffrey Miller: Okay.
Blake turned the corner and saw his father atop the twenty-foot wall next to the gate. Peter leaned on a raised section of the wall as he yelled something down to the police below. By the time Blake reached the stairs to the battlement, Montgomery had still not responded to his message.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Jeff, can you wake Montgomery’s ass up? He’s not responding.
Jeffrey Miller: Sure.
Blake shook his head. The short firefighter may be a man of few words, but he was very reliable. Montgomery was too, normally, but not in the morning. The skinny man needed a few gallons of coffee in him before he could understand speech.
Montgomery Brown: Dude, just saw your message. What the hell do you want us to do if we see someone climbing?
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Just let me know.
Montgomery Brown: Sure, I guess I can do that.
After he handled his two friends, he contacted his mother.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Hey mom, can you contact everyone on the outside and tell them not to show up today?
Donna Summers: Already done. I’ve also filled in Jessica with what’s going on, just in case.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Thanks.
Donna Summers: It’s my job. Yours is to make sure no one gets hurt. Try not to make things worse, Blake.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: I don’t plan to, but I can’t promise anything if they start opening fire.
As he crested the twenty-foot stairs, he laid a hand on his father’s back and said, “You can head back down, dad. I got this.”
When he spoke, Peter’s head whipped around, startled. However, after a brief moment, where he gave his son a worried glance, he shook his head and said, “No, I’ll stay here too.”
“You aren’t bulletproof like I am,” he reminded his father.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Peter huffed, “They aren’t going to fire on us.” Then, after a brief moment of introspection, added, “Not if you don’t antagonize them anyway. What are you going to do?”
“Like I said, I’m going to keep them busy. If you want to stay, please hide behind the merlons,” he pointed at the notched, six foot raised section along the wall. In battle, archers used the slits, or crenelations, to fire at their enemies below while they remained relatively safe. “That’s what they’re there for.”
After his father nodded in agreement, Blake leapt atop the six-foot merlon and quickly surveyed the police below. The moment the officers spotted him, they immediately backed away and placed their hands on their holstered firearms.
Four official sheriff's deputy vehicles were parked along the street with their red and blue lights flashing. Beside them was a black full ton pickup with dual rear wheels. It also had flashing lights, but they were internal to the vehicle rather than placed atop it.
I bet that’s the sheriff’s truck.
Directly before the gate stood six deputies in their tan uniforms. Three were in their upper twenties, one looked fresh out of high school, while the last two were at least in their early forties. Behind them stood an older man with a bald head, gray full beard, and a large belly. He wore jeans, a tucked in flannel, button down shirt, and a thick wool jacket. The outside of his coat was tan, while the inside was fluffy and white.
“Blake S-S-Summers!” the youngest cop stuttered. “Come out with your hands up! You’re under arrest.”
He rolled his eyes.
Blake wished he could rant and rave at the men below him. To tell them how their actions could doom humanity’s future, and how they did not deserve to be saved after Invasion day. The more he stewed, the more he wanted to just eliminate the problem and go about his day, regardless of what he told his mother.
However, he recognized two of the younger deputies from his previous life. From what he could remember, they were good men who died in an effort to save a family trapped within a gas station by monsters.
Well shit. I guess I do this the hard way, then.
When he had imagined the entire police force as corrupt and evil, it had been easy to justify their murder. In a couple of weeks, actions like that would be commonplace, and he would do whatever he needed to do to protect his family. However, now that he knew some of them were heroes in his past, there was no way he could use that solution.
Instead, he glanced down at the possible teenage trainee and said, “I’d rather not.”
“I knew it!” shouted the old, overweight man as he pulled on his large belt buckle. “The moment I heard some idiot had gone and built a castle, way out in the middle of nowhere, it had to be you and your psychotic family!”
Blake snorted. “Psychotic? That’s rich coming from a corrupt cop who tried to ruin a kid’s life over a little high school fight.”
The sheriff’s face flushed red, and he yelled, “Little high school fight?! Is that what you’re calling it? You put my nephew in the hospital! He barely lived! You crushed his trachea and ruined his voice for the rest of his life! He sounds like he had throat cancer, for God’s sake, and you’re calling it a little fight? And, that’s not even the worst part, you and your family killed my men!”
Shit, I hurt Trent that bad?
“I’m sorry your nephew’s hurt, but I didn’t intend for that to happen. Trent attacked ME. All I did was defend myself.”
“Bullshit!” the sheriff barked. “It was all caught on camera. You came out of nowhere with your karate and took him down like it was nothing. Well, your fancy moves won’t save you here! I don’t know how you got the better of my men, but you won’t take US by surprise.”
Karate? Hell, I only upgraded my unarmed combat skill once in my past life.
“They started recording AFTER Trent threw me to the ground,” he pointed out. “What, do you think I just randomly attacked him for no reason?”
“Doesn’t matter why you did it. Hell, the fight is the least of your crimes. You and your family are going away for the rest of your lives,” the sheriff promised. “I’m going to push for the death penalty!”
“Who told you I killed your deputies?” Blake asked, careful to not admit any guilt. He was cognizant of the body cameras that were recording everything. In a couple of weeks, it would mean nothing, but until then, a clip of him could go viral. It would be hard to recruit the locals if they saw it and believed him to be a crazy murderer.
I just need to stall them until the shield is up. Then we’re safe.
“We found your DNA on the scene,” the older man sneered. “I don’t know how you did it, but we found three flattened bullets, all with your DNA smeared all over them.”
How is that even possible? Is he just making this shit up, so I confess?
“That sounds like bullshit to me, you don’t even have my DNA on record to compare it to,” Blake sneered. “What kind of evidence are you trying to frame me with now? What’s a judge or jury going to make of that?”
“That evidence is clean, and places you at the scene of the crime. It’s only a matter of time before we connect the…” he suddenly realized he was giving Blake far too much information and cut himself off. He scowled and asked, “Enough of this. Are you going to surrender yourself peacefully, or not?”
Blake cocked his head to the side like he was seriously considering the offer. “I’d say… not.”
The sheriff grinned. “That’s what I was hoping to hear. Don’t you worry, I called in a few favors, and Phoenix SWAT is on the way. They don’t play around.” He then turned to his deputies. “While we wait, why don’t you get the ram outta the back of my truck. See if you can’t bust down this gate with it.”
“Sure thing, boss,” the youngest cop agreed and ran. He made it to the truck in record time, but struggled to remove the large battering ram from the bed by himself. By the time he reached his fellow, older deputies, he was out of breath and had to drop the heavy tool to the ground.
Blake could hear the sheriff mutter to himself even from twenty-six feet above. Eventually, the two young deputies he recognized lifted the heavy ram, stood on each side of it, and began to rhythmically slam it into the solid nano-enhanced metal gate.
Good luck with that.
Each time it hit, the ram failed to even vibrate the solid barrier. Blake knew their effort was wasted, and smirked at their enthusiasm. Their full ton truck wouldn’t budge the gate, even if it collided at over a hundred miles an hour.
Over the next hour, Blake leaned against the battlements and watched the deputies repeatedly try and fail to breach their defenses. Each time a new deputy arrived at the scene, they too attempted to break down the gate. Their actions were amusing, and he enjoyed their struggle. At some point, his father had even left and returned with a cup of coffee for him before he returned to his kitchen.
His nonchalant attitude about the situation only seemed to infuriate them further.
Eventually, he heard the rotors of a helicopter and glanced to the sky. In the distance was a large, black and white helicopter with a Phoenix Police department’s logo on the side, that quickly grew closer. It circled around his faction town four times before it found what it was looking for.
Is it going to land?
The helicopter slowly descended over Mister Grayburn’s field. When the back doors on each side opened, a SWAT team outfitted with body armor and carbines were revealed. They threw long cables over the side and prepared to fast-rope to the ground.
Well shit, I can’t have that.
The easiest solution would be to shoot the helicopter with his bow. The chi enhanced arrow would easily destroy the rotor and force the vehicle to the ground. Unfortunately, that would likely kill everyone inside, and he wanted to avoid death if he could. It also would make a mess of the field.
Instead, he stepped off the crenelation to the battlement, and hurriedly leaned his bow against the wall. Rather than take the stairs, he stepped off the twenty-foot barrier and absorbed the impact with no injury to his body.
Unlike the fifty to seventy foot drops he took out of the trees on the Lupus world, twenty feet was nothing. He could have even plummeted seventy feet without severe harm, but a sprained foot or leg was always possible. As he needed to sprint at high speed afterward, he had decided to not chance a minor injury. Especially when he had Gale to assist him.
After he landed, the helicopter stopped its descent and hovered just fifty feet off the ground. He activated Alacrity and sprinted at full speed towards the farmer’s fields. With his speed, he arrived almost immediately and witnessed the wide eyes of the pilot and copilot as they stared at Blake’s impossible actions.
Blake chuckled to himself.
If you think that’s crazy, just wait and see what happens next.
The time for half-measures was over.