Spirit Fire: Part 2

Here is the next part of the story for you!! The last part will come out next week! Hope you guys enjoy : )

Looking for Part 1? Click here

Spirit Fire

The police officer stared at the papers in front of him.

This was the kid.

The kid who had been missing for four years.

He looked up at the lanky teen who stood before him, his golden brown hair swept back, his hazel eyes glittering in the light of the lamp on his table. Behind him, a dark man in his twenties, with a long-sleeved light blue sweatshirt covering the tattoos on his wrists and a gray baseball cap shading his eyes.

If it were not for the fact that he brought the kid in, he would arrest him right away.

The boy spoke.

“Will you help us?”

The police officer stood. He was young. He had just been appointed to his position as officer. But this was a case he must take.

He leaned over the desk, his voice cracking with the sincere look in the boy’s eyes.

“Your parents are dead…” he said.

The boy nodded.

“We cannot locate your sisters.”

The boy nodded again.

“What do you want me to do?”

The boy looked up at the young man and shared a glance before turning back to the police officer.

“I will take you to their leader.”

* * *

This was the end.

Silas ran through the backstreets, his heart pounding.

He could feel it in his bones.

Behind him, the plainclothes cadets took positions in the many winding, shadowed alleys.

Silas paused to catch his breath by a door covered in spray-paint graffiti. The most prominent symbol was a fist caught on fire.

He waited, adjusting the knife tucked in his belt under his hoodie.

Why would they send cadets from some obscure police program? He couldn’t help thinking of how young they looked.

This is going to fail miserably.

Barr was taking the west route. He should show up soon.

Silas watched the shadows lengthening on the sides of the buildings. As long as nobody was tailing them….

A man crawled out of a window a few blocks to his left.

Silas crossed his arms and glared at the torn toes of his sneakers, his heart beating wildly.

Thump.

The man approached him. He was tall, his thick arms held protectively out at his sides. From under his black tank, black tattoos swirled down his biceps and up the back of his neck, ending at his crew cut.

“What’s the word, Timber?” he asked, his gravelly voice barely above a whisper.

Silas shifted his stance, still averting his eyes. “Barr has betrayed us… he is going to meet me here. Is he coming?”

The man’s pale eyes shifted from one end of the alley to the other. “It takes a lot to disturb him, but yeah, he is coming.”

Silas clenched his jaw, squeezing his hands into fists. The feeling of his nails biting into his palm was strangely calming.

Barr appeared at the end of the alley, sauntering toward them.

The tattooed man curled his lip and sunk into the shadows, motioning to Silas to stay silent.

A beam of dying sun pierced a gap in between the leaning buildings and fell onto the stained concrete, accompanied by a thin wind that hissed through the alley and ruffled the edges of bleached papers plastered to the walls.

Barr stopped a few feet from Silas. His eyes cast down, the tips of his black hair poking out from under his cap.

He looked up at Silas, his lips moving silently.

Slowly, men began to step out of the alleys, open the barred doors, and crawl out of the broken windows.

The tall, tattooed man stood behind Silas, arms crossed.

Barr stood in the same place as the men surrounded him, watching them. His eyes were cold and distant.

“Got done with us, did you?” The man said.

Barr met Silas’s eyes before looking up at the man. “What do you want?”

The men drew knives.

“He is coming.”

Barr nodded, “Then we will see.”

“Oh yes, we will,” the man said with a snarl. “You dropped us, didn’t you? Thought you could escape?”

Barr clenched his jaw, “You cannot do anything until he gets here.”

“Nothing?” the man said, clenching his fists.

Silas shot Barr a warning glance, and he nodded. There was a spark in his eye that he had not ever seen before.

Barr crossed his arms and ran a finger over the scar down his temple.

A hush filled the air as the sound of a car approached the back alleys. The motor turned off, and in the dead silence, they could hear two pairs of shoes scuffing against the uneven cement.

A shadow stepped into the alley.

A short, brown-skinned man with a handsome face, about twenty years old, was wearing black, the same color as his hair, which created an aura of shadow around him. His eyes, a startling poison-green, swept the entire scene.

“Barr,” he said in a soft, soothing voice. “What is this I hear?”

Barr turned to face him, his head cocked, his eyes like flecks of ash.

“Quite a lot, I would suppose.”

Silas shivered as more cold wind blew down the streets. What were the police waiting for? The leader was here.

They needed to arrest him.

Now.

The poison-eyed man glanced down toward his shoes before looking up at Barr. “Did you rat on us?”

The thin smile on his lips chilled Silas to the core. He had seen that smile.

He knew that smile.

The man walked up to Barr and held out his hand.

“Tell me it isn’t true.”

Barr stared down into his face, his eyes shaded by his cap.

The man’s eyes narrowed.

Silas saw his hand go to his hip.

“NO!”

He reached out as everything fell in slow motion.

The look of pain that crossed Barr’s features as he staggered backward, a knife buried in his ribs.

The poison-eyed man’s victorious smirk.

A thick hand grabbed his arm, dragging him away as he screamed. But all he could see was Barr slumped against a wall, fighting for breath.

Suddenly, shots rang out in the night air, shattering the thick silence that filled his mind.

Plainclothes men filled the alley exits, guns pointed at a target each. Gang members pulled off their black jackets, exposing their badges and their guns.

The hand holding him let go, sending him sprawling.

He caught a glimpse of the leader slipping through a cracked open door in the chaos.

Rage boiled through his veins. He pushed his way to the door and stepped into the shadows of the broken-down building.

Continued on Part 3.

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