George turned the corner hard, the wheels of the car squealing. Sasha – his lieutenant – sat passenger. Two officers – Will, and Eric sat in the back, their worried expressions, eyes darting from side to side as they looked to the people – rescue volunteers – that ran, down the street, some stood still watching the ash in the sky.

  But George’s eyes remained fixed to the road, as he white knuckled the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. He turned again pulling onto Canal Street with the other cars. People ran through the street here too, but their manner was different. There were fewer of them, and they were far less afraid.

  “It’s them!” he shouted, slowing instantly. The car came to a screeching halt, the others already out of their doors as he opened his. The others were already shouting, guns raised as the others cars screeched to a halt, blocking off the road.

  “Hands in the air!” he cried, joining the others as the gang members shouted back. Then one raised his own gun, and in a flash of orange they lay dead on the floor.

  George looked to the bodies for a moment before glancing up to the rising pillar of smoke in the air.

  “Shit” he muttered.

  “Everyone alright?” Will called out, looking to the other officers. A murmur of assent came from all the others as George glanced back. A wind shield had been shattered but no one hurt.

  “Alright everyone” he said clapping his hands. “The other units should be arriving on the other roads now. We hold here on high alert until the gunfire dies down, a-”

  He was on the floor then the pain came, along with ringing and a heat. He rose slowly, confused by the sudden rush of dust and debris floating all around him. Then as the situation dawned on him, his eyes widened and he forced himself to stand. The building the criminals had just been running away was reduced to rubble, a plume of thick black smoke rising into the air as small fires crackled around it’s crumbling.

  Others were on the floor too, some shouting though he could barely hear. He grabbed Will, helping him up before stumbling, grabbing the car to secure himself.

  “Captain?!” Eric shouted, grabbing him “You alright?!”

  “I’m good! I’m good!” he shouted “Just-”

  The air came alive with great sounds that cracked like thunder, echoing through the streets. It was unending a stream of intermittent noise that carried with it a heat. Fire. Fire. Fire. George fell to the floor as Eric was torn to shreds, flinching again and again, clutching the back of his head as his entire body shook violently with fear he hadn’t known for years taking his entire being.

  Then hands were grabbing him, pulling him. Sasha. He remembered himself suddenly, forcing himself upwards as he tried to forget about what he’d seen, and grabbed a hold of his gun. He found his way behind a car door before he knew it, joining the others as they returned a barrage of their own fire back.

  Then it was over, the opposing gunfire stopped, though his heart still beating with fury, and his mind ablaze. He looked around to the dead, then back to the others, a sudden anger coming over him as he saw the clear fear. The ground shook again as another explosion shook the street, before more gunfire echoed out through the street followed by distant shouts.

  The gunfire was getting further away.

  God fucking dammit he said. Those bastards are running away. They’re going the other way.

  He grabbed his radio

  “We need back-up units here and units on the far side!”

  “We’re forming one now. There was a little hiccup on the way but the guys are there. They’re closed off.”

  More bursts of gunfire echoed through the streets, a different, familiar rhythm this time. The gunfire got closer again. They were blocked off and returning, good.

  “Get ready!” he shouted. The officers listened without hesitation, then the chaos was upon them again. A hellfire storm traded over asphalt, some falling dead as they returned gunfire, before being overwhelmed falling back behind their cars to reload.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  George cursed, looking back to the gang members, returning the occasional burst of fire through smoke. Then through one of the windows, he spotted a mother, holding her son as she desperately waved down towards them.

  “Shit” he said, pulling back behind the car.

  “What?” Sasha replied.

  “There’s a kid and his mom, up in one of the buildings.”

  “What do we do?”

  George’s eyes darted between the woman and her child in the window, then back to smoke filled street lined with bodies, the occasional burst of gunfire rocking it. He steeled himself, clutching his guns tighter.

  “We go in”

  “What?!”

  “We go in”

  “But- Captain is that wise?”

  “No. But there’s people in there and who knows where they’re putting all these damn bombs. We need to get them the hell out of here”

  “I- alright”

  He looked to her, saw the fear in her expression, and a felt a stab of guilt. He quelled it, then looking forward again, nodded.

  “You ready?”

  “No. But let’s go. The sooner the better” Sasha said. He nodded, then looked back to those left.

  “Cover us!” he shouted.

  “What? Wait cap-”

  Then he was gone, rushing forward with Sasha at his side as the cops open fired on the criminals. They moved across the street with a speed, the opposing fire halted for a moment, before a burst of bullets sprayed across the floor forcing into an alley. The

  “Did you see where it came from?”

  “It came from above. One of the windows on a higher story maybe? I don’t know” Sasha said. He nodded, waiting for a moment as the shots in the distance died down. He could hear panicked voices. He grabbed a rock and chucked it into the street, a spray of gunfire spattered across the concrete.

  “We use the fire exits” he said. “Quick. Climb up the bins, we’ll get on the roof and go in from above. It’s better anyway”

  Sasha nodded, and they quickly scaled the bins making their way up the building toward the roof. But as they emerged, a trio of gang members stood on the roof, tinkering away at a device. He stopped Sasha, then made a gesture to her, both quickly pulling their guns out before leaping onto the roof.

  “Hands where I can see them!” he cried. The trio instantly all turned him.

  “Hey! Don’t move!” Sasha shouted. They were all still, silent in uncertainty for a moment. George looked to them, the trio all barely college age, then back down to the device they stood around. It looked too futuristic to be cheap, but he knew what it was already. A bomb.

  “You turned that thing on yet?” he said. One of them shook his head. “Alright. Now just step away from it. Just- slowly, carefully.”

  None of them moved.

  “Just step away” Sasha said harsh.

  “Sasha” he gestured stopping her eyes still fixed to the trio. “Come on just step away. Nice and easy” he said, gesturing with his gun. “Just step away.”

  “I told you to be on fucking watch you-”

  “Hey, don’t talk just-”

  One of them cried out before George could finish, pulling his firearm from his waistband. George fired, moving to the others as they turned their guns on him too. For a moment it was chaos, the gun jumping in his hands before heat moved past his face, then silence. He stood still for a moment before, looking

  “You alright?” Sasha said.

  “He just missed me… Jesus.”

  “They’ve got kids planting bombs on one of the rooftops. Might have them on more. They’re silver with red and black cables. No visible timer, but it’s got a red light. I think if it’s on, the bomb is too. Watch out for them. Over”

  No one responded. He frowned, then smacked it. Nothing. His radio was dead.

  “You think they’re jamming the signal?” Sasha said. “Shit, was this whole thing planned?”

  “Probably. But this isn’t the gangs. They don’t move like this”

  “Who then?”

  “I don't know. We can talk later. Come on”

  “You’re not going anywhere” a voice said. George’s eyes widened and he spun, turning back to person the voice had come from. But he didn’t stay still, moving with a sudden speed just beyond where George pointed his weapon. The man was quick. Far too quick to just be a man.

  Sasha fired twice, but George knew it was futile. As the metahuman neared, claws bared he pushed Sasha aside, diving forwards as he fired. The villain let loose a howl, caught off guard by and crashed into George. The two rolled and his gun skittered across the floor as he fell backwards. He recovered quickly, scrambling for it, but the sudden shout of anger behind him made his heart sink.

  He was too late.

  Claws clutched at his spine, sinking into flesh as his legs went numb. He heard Sasha cry out as he hit the floor, the heat of his life seeping out of his back, and eyes wide as a numbness spread throughout him. He blinked slowly, hearing Sasha scream violently before the sound was cut short by a sickening crunch.

  George lay there, gasping desperately for air as his body failed him, the world quickly growing cold.

  I’m dead, he thought. I’m dead.

  Then the meta turned to him, walking back over, his hands stained with blood.

  “It’s always you bastard cops” he muttered. “Throwing yourself at me. I mean jus no self preservation. You got what you deserved though.”

  George let loose a gurgle before gripping the floor tightly.

  “H-helen” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Helen” he whispered, looking past the man to something beyond. The man stood next to him for a moment, his face obscured by a mask. Then with a sigh, he was gone.

  George lay in silence, his blinks growing slower and slower as he grew more tired than he ever had in his life. And his thoughts slowed to a stop, he thought of his life, of a hundred thousand moments. He saw his squad, his friends, Peter and the others, his parents, his wife, his daughter, and more.

  He remembered things he’d long forgotten, and then as that faded too, he closed his eyes, the cold finally reaching his core.

  It’s so quiet., he thought, it’s so… quiet.