The Watchman

Chapter 2- Finn

I walked through the dark winding tunnels that were my current home. My life is terrible. I mean it was worse before, but it didn't get any better when I ended up down here. Having people constantly look up to you for advice is exhausting. I shoved my hands into my coats' pockets and lowered my head as I made my way out onto the streets. I emerged from a secret door behind an abandoned warehouse.

I looked up into the foggy night sky and watched my breath float up into the stars. It's tendrils mixed with that of the endless factory smoke. I shook myself of the stupor I was in and headed to my coping spot: The Rat Tavern. It wasn't anything special, but it was the one place I could go to and think.

I pushed my way inside, and was hit with a wave of warmth, and the scent of sweat, alcohol, and unwashed bodies. It was sort of calming to me. The ironic thing is that I wouldn't have been caught dead in a place like this 5 years ago.

I walked over to the bar and sat down on the wobbly wooden stool, that did little for support. I laid my head down onto the counter and sighed deeply.

"Long day today boy?" Said a voice above me.

"Beer." I sat up and dragged a hand down my face.

"Man that must o' been one troublin' day then wan it? Well I bet a' git you settled up then yeah." Gerta set a full pint in front of me. Gerta was the owner of my escape, and had been serving me since I first wandered in here. She never asked questions, she just gave me a pint and listened to me vent. I plopped down a few coins into the counter.

"Naw iss on the 'ouse tonight luv." She pushed the coins back and walked away to serve another customer. I took one sip before I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"I suggest you come quietly boy. We don't want no problems."

I turned, faced the police man, and sighed. "Your going to deny a simple man his pint? At least let me finish this before we leave."

"Your not a simple man, now are ya Finn Blake? Your a no good thief, and a hard one to catch at that. So your gonna come now, or we're gonna make you come."

The whole bar had gone silent.

A man from one of the back tables got up, "Your going to have to go through us first." I guess paying for everyones' drinks over the years helps, because they all stood up.

I raised my hands, "Now now gentlemen, and ladies, it's fine. I'll go in quietly, no need for violence." I waited till everyone sat back down until I began to set down my mug.

"Good boy then, tame the dogs." The policeman smirked.

I paused and turned my head, "Wrong move."

I slammed my mug into the policeman's face at full force. The bar exploded into one big fight against the police. The poor, five, policeman fought their way through the crowd. I looked at Gerta. She just nodded and opened her counter, to let me through. I slipped out of the taverns back entrance, and smiled to myself. I walked down the alley only a couple feet before I was hit in the back of the head. I hit the ground and was rolled onto my back. I looked up into the face of Brigadier Castor.

"Not so sneaky anymore are we Mr. Blake." He chuckled. He raised his hand, and brought down the blunt of his rifle onto my face. Blackness engulfed my vision.