The League: The Fall of America

Chapter 1

Connor awoke to the sound of his alarm going off, and he rolled over in bed to turn it off. The sunlight streaking through the window shined in his face and he begrudgingly sat up and shuffled to the bathroom. When he looked in the mirror he saw his tousled hair and the bags under his eyes. He had spent many nights this week getting little sleep in preparation for this day. 

Once he was ready to go he left his apartment and walked down the street, where at the corner stood a short blonde sipping coffee and looking around. "Took you long enough," the boy teased, taking another sip of his coffee. 

"Shut up, where's mine?" Connor asked. The boy showed his other hand which held another cup of coffee that Connor accepted with a grin. 

"Enjoy it while you can, it may be your last," the blonde mumbled.

"Stop with that Tyler, you know I'm not backing out," Connor responded.

"I'm just worried," Tyler retorted. "You're small and most of the guys competing are... well, not."

"I've got this," Connor grinned, earning an eye roll from his friend.

"That confidence is why I'm scared," Tyler muttered.

The two walked to the boardwalk, where the ocean met the land and the sun shined with nothing to conceal it. Connor and Tyler made their way from the public area to one that was closed off. They trekked up a hill to a clearing where an abandoned building sat, the sunlight glinting off the somewhat shattered windows. At the door were a few guys, and Connor felt their eyes on him as he walked into the building. 

Many people were already gathered inside, laughing and checking the chalkboard hung up on the right wall. Connor walked over to it, Tyler trailing behind him. Drawn on the board was a bracket, set up in pairs. Connor's was in the fifth pair, his name written underneath Myles Ainsworth's, a man he couldn't identify off the top of his head.

Tyler pulled him away from the board and the crowd to a spot underneath the small balcony that stuck out into the main room. Above them were the punching bags. In that spot were a few others, three guys whose names Connor did know. They all had worried looks on their faces. 

"He's still going through with it," Tyler said to them.

"If you die, don't blame us," one of the guys said to Connor.

"Relax, Joey," Connor grinned. "I've got this."

"It's not that you're not skilled, it's just that a lot of those guys are older and more skilled," another guy said.

"Oh come on, Shane, I thought you were with me!" Connor teased.

"You can't keep acting like it's okay to throw your life away!" Tyler argued. "We care about you, Connor, and if you died, what would we tell Robin?"

Connor stopped when he said that name. He held his hands in the air as he paused wrapping some bandages around his knuckles. Robin would be devastated if he died, he knew that, but she could never know the truth behind his death. The group that was responsible for her husband's death was also the group that her son worked for. Well, he wasn't her son, but he felt like he was.

A bell rang and someone began shouting to the crowd. Connor clenched his fists and looked up at the crowd gathered around the ring. "Tell her I love her," he replied, walking away from his friends.

It was the first sunny day since that night. No matter how hard he tried, the 7 year old couldn't push away the memories of what he had seen. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his parents and his siblings again. He held on tight to the larger hand that held his small one. She would protect him, he knew it.