Renegade

Chapter 5

     Ben walked along the street the night after he conversed with the men of the Black Dragon. The air was cool, damp leaves littered the ground, and the noises of the city enveloped his senses. Ben marveled at the tall buildings as he noisily crunched down on an apple he'd stolen. His mind wandered to the path that lay ahead, and he felt a sense of extreme insecurity.

     He kept walking until he came to one of the more dangerous parts of the city. Ben kept his head low, knowing well that there were possibly hostile people around. He walked in the shadows, trying not to draw any attention to himself. Ben tossed his apple core to the ground, strolling past some worn-down apartments.

     A group of people, a gang, stood in a tight circle around one of the flickering street lamps. They were smoking all kinds of illegal substances, and the glazed-over look in their eyes implied a heavy dosage. Ben averted his gaze, but not before the gang noticed his presence. They were quiet as they drifted over in his direction, probably thinking that he was a rich man with money. Ben saw them out of the corner of his eye; some of the members were young.

     They didn't know of his reputation.

     "Hey buddy!" one of them taunted, stepping in front of Ben. "You lost tonight?"

     Ben stopped, both hands shoved deeply into his pockets, and looked up at the member.

     "Don't do something you'll regret," Ben calmly responded. "There are some people who you just don't mess around with in this city."

     The gang member smiled, looking around at his fellow members, "Oh? We've got a friend here who thinks he's tough? Well, let's see who's really the one you don't fucking mess around with in this city!"

     The members chuckled and laughed, while others continued to pump toxic drugs into their systems. Ben tensed, and he knew what he was going to have to do.

     The member in front of him had a shaved head, his unnatural height caused him to tower over Ben, and a grin was etched into his scarred face. He locked a gaze with Ben, one that he did not break, and the opposing member became defensive.

     "Let's go bitch!" the gang member yelled, pulling off his jacket.

     Ben remained standing.

     It was clear that the drugs were effecting his system; the man wasn't in his right state of mind. He pulled out a glimmering object: a knife. The first gang member waved it in front of Ben, but he had no fear.

     "You gonna defend yourself?" the gang member joked, taking a step forward. "Or is this gonna be a one-man fight?"

     The surrounding group grew tenser with the air of risk. All eyes were on the two people in the center, with one obviously looking like he was going to die first. The member with the knife spread his legs into a running position and then lunged at Ben. There was a moment of complete silence as he did so.

     Ben pulled his hands out of his pockets and grabbed the member's arm. He used his own momentum against him, throwing him to the ground. The gang member stumbled, but then he swiped with the knife. Ben sidestepped the swipe and kicked the instrument out of his hand.

     "...fuck!" the gang member hissed, scrambling for the weapon.

     Ben grabbed the back of the man's shirt and completely flipped him over. One of the members, possibly a friend, saw that the other was in trouble. He sprang from the surrounding wall of people, hastily picking up the glimmering knife that was on the ground. As Ben stood with his back turned, he sprinted at him. However, Ben flipped around and grabbed the weapon seconds before it could be used.

     The one on the ground sprang up and grabbed Ben, who was interlocked with the other holding the knife. Ben elbowed back with a great force and could feel the nose of the first gang member's nose crack. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see blood gushing from the wound.

     "Argh!" the man grunted, pressing both hands up against his wound.

     Ben turned his attention to the man with the knife, and he punched him in the side. There was sudden slack, and he used it to jar the knife from his hand. The second gang member stumbled back, and Ben gripped the weapon in his hand. Seemingly frustrated, the man pulled a gun out of his pocket and cocked it. Ben immediately froze.

     The gang member breathed heavily until Ben saw his finger motion for the trigger. He leaped toward the weapon, pushed it into the air as it fired, and jammed the knife into the gang member's side. There was a gasp, and some of the members ran away while the second gang member crumpled to the ground. Hot blood flowed over Ben's hand as he took the gun and whirled around while first member sprinted towards him.

     He pulled the trigger.

     The first gang member fell to the ground, instantly dead. Blood pooled from the wound and spread across the ground like a sickly slime. All of the gang members were gone, leaving their fallen members in a lake of black blood. Ben breathed heavily, letting the gun fall to the ground, and for a moment he stood in the midst of their corpses.

     He felt no remorse, no sadness, and no guilt. As he walked away, he soon forgot about the incident altogether. In his mind, he had simply defended himself.

     Murder was but an afterthought.