the final hour chapter 2

All the memories we had held together, gone in one moment. The more I thought, the more I had the feeling of rage building inside my heart. All I could do was weep and feel powerless. I sat on the couch and thought, recalling all the events that played out. I could still remember his face, the cold and heartless bastard that stole her from me. I decided to take vengeance upon his actions ..... and to avenge her soul.

Running into the bedroom, I grabbed my trench coat and a small handgun I kept in case of an emergency. Sense the world was thrown into chaos, I thought it would be safer to carry one on me. Looking at the one picture of us smiling on our anniversary, I closed the door and left .... feeling I should never return. I felt reborn, and in a way cleansed. As if what I was doing was right.

Worming my way down the streets, I stepped over the hobo s and the occasional drug addict. I went along the street blindly until I found the spot I last saw him. From there I went underground. The underground being exactly that. A city below a city. Here the low-lives and the others built a haven for themselves. I settled into a bar to have a drink. I could hear voices int eh background talking about what they did in their past. I tuned this out and turned back to my drink. A tall stalk figure walked up to me. He said his name was Greg and asked what I did in the time before. I told him exactly what I did and he made some sly remark. He went on to say he was a lawyer and a high roller in stocks. I never looked at his face but he seemed to have known mine fairly well.

Feeling slightly uneasy I walked out and he followed. He told me he knew what happened that night and what brought me to the underground. I turned sharply and shoved the gun in his face.

There are three shots in this gun, if you don t tell me all you know then there will be two.\rdblquote I told him in my most threatening voice.

He started to explain to me what all he knew and even told me his name. B.B. No one knew his real name but only knew he was gunman fore hire in the days of old. He told me that he usually was seen at the old docks. A cliche if I had ever heard one, But for now it was all I got.

A shot heard, another body fallen and I continued my journey. Two shoots left, one saved just for him .... I smiled thinking the old me wouldn t have ever done something like this. Then smiling even more thinking that he was dead, along with his murdered wife.