The Last Crusader

8

Jordan had to abandon looking for Devlin. Returning to the clinic where he left his wife. It was near closing time. Devlin hadn't returned home, and his friends hadn't seen him. All but one. An older boy who came in the evening knocking on Devlin's window. Shocked to find Jordan sitting in his son's room.

"Chris?" Jordan was shocked.

"Mr. Brooks, uh hey, how are you?"

"Why didn't you come through the front door boy?" Jordan had a looming presence standing taller than the boy with a wider frame.

Chris gulped, pulling the mask from over his head, and rubbing his arm as he was confronted by his friend's father. Chris tried to excuse himself, but Jordan motioned for him to enter the room.

"Is Devlin here?"

"No, I haven't seen Devlin since this morning. He came home for a moment then left. He hasn't been back since. Did you hear what happened?" Jordan asked rubbing his arm.

"A lot has happened Mr. Brooks." Chris sighs unsure where to start.

"My wife was murdered today. The mafia came here looking for Devlin, calling him Zenith, then shot my wife dead. The clinic declared her dead this evening. She fought but dammit-

Jordan punched a hole in the wall, choking back his tears as he tried to figure out where his son had gone. Trying to understand why his wife had to be killed. What was the message or point of the senseless act of murder?

"Well, last night we were uh, by the harbors. Devlin killed several of their men and then destroyed one of their warehouses. Well, destroyed is putting it rather lightly. He took down a couple of Regulators and has been hunting silver suits and dogs down since Bren died. Now, I imagine it'll get worse. I came to talk him out of it." Chris confessed.

"How did it come to this Chris?" Jordan shook his head.

"It'll get worse before it gets better. The Mafia and Regulators want to rule over us, not help us. I guess I can't understand this from the Regulator's perspective but- they must be fought." Chris felt convicted.

"This isn't how you fight them." Jordan shook his head, "When we were building up Nadia, we didn't kill and attack each other. We focused on the problems, created solutions, and moved from there. We had our men patrolling the streets day and night, not running around, hiding, and attacking then running. I see the sentiment, and I've tried to ignore this Mask business for so long but- I can't lose my son too."

Chris felt strange, "You want to come?"

"Where?"

"When you're ready, you won't ask. I have to go." Chris pulled his mask back down and slipped out the window quicker than a hiccup. Gone within moments.

Jordan considered ignoring it but couldn't. He had to find his boy. He climbed out of the rooftop, trailing Chris from a distance. His body struggled with running and jumping, wondering how the kid managed to move so swiftly across the 5 to 10ft leaps from building to building. The more Jordan studied Chris' movements, he picked up on when to accelerate, and when to take easy strides. When to push off at the last minute for the maximum force. It reminded him of training in Sameera's army.

Chris disappeared, and Jordan stood confused wondering where the boy had gone.

"You did a pretty good job following me. I tried taking an easy route for you." Chris chuckled.

Jordan bent over, huffing and puffing, "you thought that was easy?"

"Easier than this will be, I can't go back over there without getting wrapped up. And you have no mask. More people will come. We have to figure out what's going on in their meeting without revealing ourselves." Chris explained.