Euphoria

Chapter Sixteen: Cut You Down

Jackie overlooked the city, perched on the highest skyscraper, looking down at Neon District's citizens as his red cloak trembled in the breeze, the hood obscuring his face. He had been tracking this guy for weeks, watching him hit convenience stores all over the Neon, arriving minutes after the crime had taken place. This time would be different as the last place in the district that he could terrorize and steal from was Allsup's.

The gale whipped his hood back, revealing his tangled and faded green hair and the sleek, blue mask he wore that was only enough to cover his glacial eyes.

The only problem he had with this city was its lack of justice and the people who walk the streets that call themselves Policemen. That or the posers who feel the need to change some part of who they used to be just to fit in.

"Showtime." He said, standing up and propelling himself off the building, plunging headfirst with a howl he felt to be liberating. He kept his legs together, arms outstretched. The one thing he loved was the drop his stomach did, about as much as the wind wailing in his ears as it whisked past.

The hero never felt crazy, not a day in his life. He'd continuously hear people whispering about him as he went by, but he never focused on the negativity he'd overhear. As far as he was concerned, he was the most ordinary person in the city he lived in. The danger wasn't in the job; it was knowing that he was an UnModified living in a Modified world.

Jackie reached for a portable device attached to his belt, clicking the button. A thin wire shot out of the gadget, wrapping around the flagpole he'd passed mere seconds ago. He held on tight, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. This was the only part that terrified him—the impact. Not knowing if your hand would slip, or you'd land wrong.

Luckily, the hero landed unharmed, clicking the button a second time and watching the thread detach from the flagpole, creating a whipping pitch before slipping back into its slot. "Never gets old." He set the device back onto his belt, brushing himself off and looking around. The parking lot was empty but illuminated by neon lights that exposed him on all sides.

If anyone were to drive in, they'd immediately see him.

The convenience store was across the street, and from where he stood, he could see someone browsing the aisles with no intention to buy, their dominant hand held inside their hoodie pocket, a baseball cap covering their face from the convenience store's stone age cameras.

Jackie jogged across the street, placing the hood back over his head before entering Allsup's, the bell at the top of the door pinging, and with it, a pressure built up inside of him as he too started to browse the aisles, keeping an eye on the strange man dressed head to toe in black.

He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, his eyes heavily trained on a particular brand of potato chips. Jackie knew that look. He was trying to decide whether it was worth it. To rob a convenience store. But he had done this multiple times, so what was the dilemma this time?

The man turned to walk away, running straight into Jackie and stumbling backward, almost falling into one of the displays. He recovered quickly, a pink blush on his cheeks. "And who the fuck are you? Some sort of wannabe Superman?"

"No, Sir. But I am greatly offended, so you might want to phrase your next few words very carefully."

"Phrase my words carefully? Listen, asshole. I've got—" He seemed to pause, scoffing. "You're not worth my time."

Jackie stared at him as he wandered over to the cash register, shifting on both feet before pulling an object out of his pocket and mumbling something the hero wasn't close enough to understand.

The cashier froze, stammering on his words as the color drained from his face.

"You fucking heard me!"

At this point, Jackie was unsure what the man had in his pocket. It could've been a knife, or a gun, or a taser. But it had to be something that the cashier feared. "Excuse me, Sir?" He said.

The man hardly glanced at him, focused solely on the cashier. "The fuck do you want now?!"

"Leave the poor man alone."

"What did you just say? I have a gun. What do you have? The punch of justice?"

The object now recognized as a gun was aimed at Jackie, making him chew his lip. This would undoubtedly hurt and leave bruises, but nothing worse. "I'm giving you one more warning. Drop the gun, and we can all walk out of here alive. I'd prefer it not come to death--"

"And I'm out of patience." The thief pulled the trigger, the bullet's report resulting in a flinch from the cashier who was now huddled in the corner, pleading for mercy.

Jackie fell back, taking down a rack of potato chips with him, his eyebrows knitting in discomfort as a dull ache spread through his chest. If the bullet had gone just a few more inches up, he would've had to pull it from inside his shoulder. "Son of a bitch that hurt like a mother. You've done it now."

"How are you--" The thief nearly dropped his firearm, backing into the counter.

"Should've listened to him, Sonny." Jameson said, slamming the back door closed, looking winded, and pale as he took aim with his revolver and fired. A faint trail of smoke swirling from the barrel, and the foul smell of Cordite lingering in the air as he watched the man go down, blood barely noticeable as it dripped from the hole in his back.

"JJ, I wasn't expecting you to shoot him..." Jackie said, bags of chips falling to the side as he stood, holding his chest, where the bullet had entered.

"I know that."

"Then why--"

"Time is ticking anyway. Might as well live in leisure before I go out." Jameson said, his lips drawn into a thin line as he holstered his gun. "I'm guessing you've got one of those fancy bulletproof vests underneath that costume?"

"It's not a costume! But yes. I do. On another note, we should probably get out of here before the cops show up."

"Coppers are far from perfect, just you wait. They'll call it an accident to avoid the paperwork, or put us in stir for clipping him. Just you wait. This won't be on the news." Jameson shook his head, coughing into his handkerchief before pocketing it again and motioning for his brother to follow as he left through the back door.

Jackie shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking with nervous energy. "You look worse for wear, JJ. What's been going on? I never see you anymore."

"To be fair, I've been ghosting the lot of you. Sean is the only brother I see anymore. You know I like my quiet."

"Fair point. How are you? Really."

Jameson turned to face his brother, holding back another violent cough. "Not even I know that answer anymore. You should get back home. Streets aren't safe anymore."

"I keep them safe." Jackie said.

"And who's going to keep you safe?"

"I don't want to be kept safe, dammit! All my life I've been kept safe... Don't you understand? Sheltered from the real world." Jackie three his hands up, frowning at the concerned look on his brother's face. "I'm fine."

"And they say I'm a liar."

"I'm not lying."

"But you're pretending to be something you're not. You think you're saving them? You're protecting yourself." Jameson said, small beads of sweat dripping from his forehead.

"I'm upholding justice."

"Maybe." He said, gripping the pocket watch in his vest pocket. "I have to go."

"Don't die on me, okay? I haven't figured out how to save you yet."

Jameson forced a laugh, the sound edged with sadness. "I'll try not to."