Whumptober+ Short Stories - Volume 2

Prompt 2 - Explosion

The smoke around him was starting to clear. Colt frowned as his range of vision increased a little in the darkness. There was still no sign of his father anywhere among the rubble. He knew better than to hope Alcatraz had managed to avoid the brunt of the explosion; they had both been too close for that. At best, his father might have survived with minimal injuries.

At least, that's what Colt was counting on.

"Dad?" The young man called, trying to make his voice carry as far as possible. This was the tenth or so time he had done this, each time with no response. With luck, that meant his father was too far away. Without luck...

"Colt?" Came a voice from somewhere across the flaming expanse of debris. At the sound of it, Colt's head shot up instantly. "Dad!" He yelled back, breaking into a run. By the time he reached his father, he was completely out of breath.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one.

"Dad! Are you okay? How did you..." Colt began, all his questions bursting at once as he skidded to a stop. Alcatraz chuckled and shook his head. "I have no idea, really. One minute I'm with you, the next I can't tell where I am." Colt smiled at this, then laughed. "Can't say I did much better." He replied. "Although I'm gonna have a major headache in a few minutes. Not that I can use that as an excuse not to finish the mission, but..." He shrugged. His father raised an eyebrow. "Guess again." He said. Colt frowned, an action which prompted another laugh from his father. "You and I are pretty much done at this point. I just got a call-in from the other team; they've got it pretty much under control. Just have a few more criminals to corral up and we can go home."

Colt let out an over-exaggerated sigh. "Better news doesn't exist. It's a good thing we found each other, cause I wouldn't have known that otherwise." Glancing over at his father, he grinned. "So, then. Whaddya say we..."

Bang!

Alcatraz turned at the sound of the gunshot just in time to catch Colt before his son hit the ground. Whoever had fired must've been an expert marksman; the bullet had hit the young man right between the eyes. His father had maybe a second to regain his composure before the shooter stepped into view, weapon still held in both hands. "Drop him and get your hands up, unless you want a hole in your head to match his."

~

Some decisions are made after a time of deep thought and contemplation. Others are made in the spur of a moment, based entirely off of emotions. As the gun went off again, Alcatraz had a split second to wonder if he had made the right choice.

Then, suddenly, he didn't have to worry about it anymore.