The Syndicate - 1. Chapter 1 - Ronnie

Ronnie’s sneakers slammed against the sidewalk as he raced toward the bus at the end of the street. “Shit! No, no, no!” The dusty blue doors squealed shut as the bus rolled away from the curb and through the sulfur colored cone of the street light. “Gaaaaaah!” He yelled, flipping off the driver who shook his head and shrugged at him while pulling into the far lane. Ronnie sighed and slowed down to a walk. That was the last bus of the night, and there was no other way to get home except on foot. He had gotten stuck at work when an unexpected rush came in and didn’t want to leave the only other server on her own to deal with it. “Let’s be real, the extra tips would have been nice too,” he thought to himself. This summer job was turning out to be a bigger pain in the ass than he anticipated, and not having a car was making the late shift especially lame.

“Thanks a lot, dickhead!” Ronnie flung a series of curse words at the bus as it rounded the corner a block ahead. A couple of guys on the other side of the street heard him and laughed. It had been a long, frustrating day, and walking home just meant he was going to get less sleep before doing it all again tomorrow. He could feel a headache coming on, and his muscles were sore from unloading the supply truck earlier in the day. “Better get going before the drunks start stumbling home.” Straightening the strap of his messenger bag, Ronnie stepped off the curb to cross the dark street.

The neon sign from Rita’s Diner blinked with a steady rhythm behind Ronnie as he headed home. The place served all manner of customers: cops finished with the night shift, college students in various states of sobriety, and insomniacs swapping stories over the finest grub a greasy spoon could offer. Ronnie started the job as a favor to his neighbor Brad, who had worked there for a couple summers but was getting ready to head to college early for a summer seminar. “The pay isn’t great, but the clientele is pretty interesting,” he had told him. “Besides, it’ll give you a reason to get out of the house and meet people,” Brad had found that working at the diner made him a target for women who visited late at night. He flirted and got his ego stroked while they left feeling a little less empty than when they stumbled in earlier that night. Ronnie wasn’t interested in the advances of drunk party girls or middle-aged out of towners, but he admitted he could use the money. His dad had been out of work for a while, and there was no asking him for any cash. Besides, if he had any hope of going to the local community college any time soon, he had better start saving now.

To Ronnie’s surprise, the night job had started to grow on him. Brad had stayed on for a couple weeks to get Ronnie up to speed, and everyone else at the diner took to him quickly. Rita was a hard-working woman in her late fifties, who practically grew up in the restaurant when her father owned it. The family of Cuban immigrants had made Rita’s an institution within the city and a reliable spot for comfort food with some of the strongest coffee around. “Drink up, Mr. Nolan,” she would say to Ronnie, sliding a heavy mug across the counter when he’d show up for his shift. “This will put the shine back in those eyes.” Though they never officially discussed it, she seemed to sense that things at home were worth escaping.

Rita left the night shift to her daughter Mari, a sturdy and impossibly cool woman who could control any situation and didn’t take shit from the drunk tough guys that would sometimes stumble in after bar close. Everyone in the neighborhood seemed to know her, and the diner was always treated with respect. Ronnie thought about going back to ask Mari for a ride, but he knew that the diner would be busy as the clubs started letting out. Mari didn’t like to leave the waitresses alone without someone to keep an eye on things. He was on his own tonight, so he put in his earbuds and cranked some music for the jaunt home. “At least the weather is nice,” he thought.

Looking up at the sky, he saw what appeared to be a red streak moving swiftly towards the center of the city. It was a superhero, no doubt starting their rounds for the night. Ronnie smiled and went through his mental list of superheroes that could fly. “That must be Crimson Cosmonaut… or maybe Zephyr,” he thought to himself. “But then again, Zephyr’s suit is more purple than red, and the wind doesn’t seem to be picking up. Cannonball maybe? She’s more of a local patroller.” It was a nice feeling, knowing that someone with incredible powers was looking out for the little guys, and it made his walk home in the dark a little less unsettling. Ronnie smiled and thought about the potential adventures that the mystery superhero might end up having tonight. Foiling a jewelry store heist, or stopping a runaway train perhaps? It sounded exhilarating, and much better than an evening of bussing tables and running orders out to old townies who never left a decent tip.

The diner was a couple miles from Ronnie’s home, and he had made it about halfway when a sudden sound pulled him out of his thoughts. He had stumbled upon a couple of men hanging out in the doorway of a closed shop. Their laughter was what caught his attention, and their voices trailed off as he crossed them. They were shadows against the metal gate of the shop doors. Ronnie was unable to make out much of their features, but he could tell they were both broad and solid looking. A cloud of cigarette smoke wafted from the entryway where they were standing. Giving them a curt nod, Ronnie picked up his pace a bit and gripped tighter to his bag supremely aware of how much smaller he was in comparison. “Stupid,” he thought to himself, “You should have been paying more attention, this neighborhood is sketchy.” The music in his earbuds cut out and was replaced by a couple of high beeps. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but the screen wouldn’t light up. “Shit, phone’s dead too.” He sped up a bit more and was only about a couple dozen steps ahead when the scuff of boots was heard coming from behind. One of the men had peeled away from the doorway and seemed to be following him.

Ronnie’s ears rang as he strained to listen behind him. He knew if he looked back it would only show he was scared of being out alone. Better to just keep going. He did his best to walk a little taller, thinking confidence might make him less of a target. But something felt wrong. The buzzing in his ears seemed to spread down the back of his neck and settled in his chest. The feeling grew from there, a fizzing vibration behind his sternum that seemed to pulse along with his heartbeat. Ronnie felt a little dizzy and tried to ignore the sensation. He had never felt like this before. Was it a panic attack?

“Keep your cool,” he told himself, “This is the worst possible time to panic.”

Picking up the pace once more, Ronnie waited for a truck to pass by before he crossed the street hoping to shake the man. He rounded the corner and was on another empty road, the buildings that faced him were quiet and dark, businesses that wouldn’t open again until the next morning. He made it about halfway down the block when he realized he was still being followed. Pausing a moment, he found himself standing at the front of a dark alley as a pale yellow streetlight hummed overhead. Ronnie knew the alley cut across several blocks, and he had often taken it as a shortcut to the diner during the day. The light from the street faded as he slipped between the buildings.

The soft rumble of air conditioning units echoed off dirty brick walls as Ronnie made his way down the back alley. Skirting around a puddle, he took a second to glance behind him to see if he was still being followed. Ronnie's heart sank as he saw the silhouette of the man standing at the mouth of the alley, his shadow stretching across the damp pavement. His hands were balled into fists as he stepped forward into the darkness.

No more pretending. Ronnie turned and started to jog deeper into the alley. The buzzing in his chest flared, and his ears began to ring painfully. His vision went funny just for a moment, a murky green wave muddling the view in front of him. He rubbed his eyes and his sight returned to normal. Splashing through another puddle, Ronnie reached for one of the metal trash cans that lined the walls. He yanked on the handle, sending the can crashing to the ground and rolling towards the man who seemed to be getting nearer with every stride.

“Get away from me!” Ronnie screamed into the darkness. The ringing intensified, and he had to pause to catch his breath. The man stepped around the spilled garbage can and continued to approach. Ronnie shook the noise from his brain and willed himself to run once more down the alley. A tingling in his right arm began, tiny needles pushing outwards from collarbone to palm. His heartbeat pounded in his chest beneath the buzzing, and he searched for a way out of the alley. Everything looked so different in the dark. Ronnie wasn’t sure exactly how far he had traveled. Up ahead, a wedge of light stretched across the left side of the alley. He sprinted for it, panicking as he heard the man’s boots thundering behind him.

Ronnie gasped as he turned into the side street. The pathway was blocked off by a chain-link fence and padlocked gate. He had gotten his streets mixed up, and run headfirst into a dead end. A low chuckle was heard behind him.

“Nice going, kid,” teased a harsh whisper. “Looks like you aren’t getting away after all.”

Ronnie whirled around to face the man, backing up against the chain-link fence. “You stay away from me, fucker!” he cried, but the man continued to move closer. “I’ve got nothing you want!”

The man closed the gap between them in a few giant strides. Ronnie could see him clearly now. Dark eyes glinted deep within a broad, square face. A giant arm shot out and grabbed Ronnie by the shirt collar, and he was pinned against the fence. The man leaned in close to his face. He smelled of cigarette smoke and whiskey. “You don’t know what I want,” he said. Without warning, his other arm swung wide and collided with the left side of Ronnie’s head.

Ronnie cried out as the impact drove him to the ground and left him seeing stars. His eye immediately began to swell up. The man pulled him back up and slammed him face-first against the cold brick wall. A rough hand trailed down his back, teasing its way lower. Tears welled up in Ronnie’s eyes as he tried to wriggle free, but he was still pinned at the shoulders. The hand trailed at the top of his waistband before it dove into Ronnie’s back pocket, grabbing more than just his wallet. Ronnie tried to turn away to face the man again but instead found himself being slammed against the wall once more. The air was knocked out of his lungs. As Ronnie gasped for breath, the stranger quickly tore through the wallet. There wasn’t much to find other than a couple bucks, a bus pass, and the old high school ID that Ronnie never bothered to remove after graduation.

“Bullshit!” the man spat.

“I told you I don’t have anything!” Ronnie was bent over trying to catch his breath, his vision blurred through tears and the injury to his eye. The man stepped forward again, and kicked out, his boot connecting just under Ronnie’s rib cage. He dropped to his knees from the pain and clutched at his side. Another kick came flying towards him. He managed to dodge to the side. Bracing himself against the alley wall, Ronnie stumbled back on his feet. The humming in his ears reached a new intensity until he could hear nothing else. Apart from the hum, the world was silent as he felt his body being spun around and found himself facing his attacker once more. The man pulled his arm back to strike again, and Ronnie threw his arms up to prepare for the blow.

There was a sensation like something clicked in his chest behind his sternum, where all the vibrations seemed to come from. From that point, a wave of warmth spread from the center of his body outwards. For a brief instant, a wave of bright green energy exploded out of Ronnie’s body with a deafening boom. It rippled outward in a wide arc, illuminating the alleyway in scattered emerald light. The wave slammed into his attacker with incredible force, lifting him up off his feet and across the alley. The man’s head connected with the opposite wall and a sickening crack rang out. He crumpled to the ground in a messy heap as bits of trash fluttered around him, his face slack and head tilted at a grotesque angle. Ronnie gulped air and screamed at the sight of the man he was certain was now dead. He fell to his knees and sobbed, tears streaming over his swollen cheek. Every muscle in his body ached with a heavy pain. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he continued to gasp to catch his breath. The ringing in his ears dissipated, and his hearing returned, but the only sounds in the alley were his sobs. He was alone, and no one was likely to come across him in this alley. He needed to get home, or to a hospital, anywhere that was away from the body of his attacker.

Thanks for reading the first chapter of The Syndicate! There's a lot more to come, and I hope you stay with me. 
 
I’ve been taking a illustration class, and to practice I’ve been drawing some story scenes. Here’s one from this chapter!