Chapter 18: Strong Arm

The federal government collapsed two days later.

Of course, as with all things, it took a while to happen, but it officially fell apart when the capitol buildings blew up.

According to the news media, such as it was, what happened was that a Powered person had used his abilities to plants bombs— abilities which were reported to be some type of intangibility; it wasn’t like they could ask them about their ability, though, as they’d been shot and killed just before the bombs had exploded. Bombs, plural.

Mind you, discovering the details of the bombings didn’t happen in the same day; that didn’t happen until the weekend. But by then, the government had fallen apart, and the states were barely holding on, as individual cities began a dark spiral into a power struggle between the authorities and the lawless.

But in the day or two before that really began, in the time between the bombings and the beginnings of anarchy, I came to a decision about what I was going to do; being a mercenary, even if I was going to be a somewhat ‘merciful’ mercenary, was fine, but I had needed a goal, something to set an achievement upon. And in that time, I decided that I was going to take control of the state of Alabama.

Of course, I didn’t have the fine details down just yet. But I knew where I’d start.

The collapse of the federal government only solidified my thoughts on the matter. I figured that it wouldn’t be too long, maybe three months at the most, before the state governments started to fall apart themselves, and then the country would be in a free-fall of lawlessness while those politicians and people in power scrambled to put things back together again. If I was lucky, I would have about a year, maybe even eighteen months, in which to consolidate my power and my efforts, to control the state.

And I would do it, because it would need doing; better me, than some wannabe drug lord, or worse, some fundamentalist who wanted to try and turn everyone into mindless religious zealots. Better me, someone who would try to make Alabama safe for people to live their lives while the nation, the world, tried to pull itself back together again, rather than someone who would only care about themselves, or rather than a dozen different factions of trying to be warlords who held ground through tyranny.

Though, if I were being honest with myself, while I did believe in those ideals, in trying to save the state from the darker elements, I also wanted to do it, just to see if I could. While the best parts of me died with my heart, and while I still felt like I’d be more than willing to destroy the world if it meant I could get her back, I wasn’t interested in innocent suffering. And I knew that, when, not if, the state governments collapsed, if I didn’t step into the gap, there would be suffering. Hell, I was pretty sure there would be, anyway, but at least I knew that I’d try to keep it to a minimum.

But, they say that power corrupts.

I suppose, then, it would simply remain to be seen if the power I held, would corrupt me, too.

I got “to work” that weekend.

I still had my ‘day job’, since Apple hadn’t yet shut down; I expected that to fall apart, too, when the government was no longer in place, and people began running amok, either literally, when they would riot and fight over the imagined lack of resources, or figuratively, when they would turn their attentions more to survival than the luxuries of life— like trying to figure out the complexities of the lates iOS or just how to make their laptops take videos in 8K.

I still had work to do, but I didn’t expect that it would last even through until the end of the year; hell, it was near the end of July, now, and I could already see the figurative smoke on the horizon. But only time would tell.

I hadn’t always lived in Tuskegee; I wasn’t born there, and in fact, I was only still there because I’d gone to the University there for my Bachelor’s degree, and it became something of ‘home’ after the ComicCon where I’d met the love of my life. It didn’t really feel like home anymore, not without her in my life; the only thing close to ‘joy’ that I felt now, was in the thoughts of turning the world on it ears, and about screwing over those who wanted to screw over others.

Tuskegee wasn’t a large city; it was more of a college town than a bonafide city, at least in my book, and there wasn’t a lot of the city I needed to wander through as I ‘worked’, but I knew roughly where to look, and that’s where I went.

It didn’t take long for me to find who I was looking for.

He was young, somewhere between— I hoped— fourteen and seventeen; I only hoped that he wasn’t younger than that, especially because of what I planned as my first shot in what I was sure would be a short but likely bloody first battle, in the ultimate war that would end with me in control of the state. He was dressed pretty stereotypically, as well, in a basketball jersey overtop a t-shirt, with jeans and sneakers, and covered by a large bomber jacket, which he pretty much kept his hands in the pockets of; the jacket was an almost ‘royal’ purple.

In this particular part of the ... more ‘economically stressed’ part of Tuskegee, the housing community was comprised of duplexes, perhaps ten to a block— five on each side of the street— and for a spread of about three blocks by two; and around each block, a heavy wooden fence— reminiscent of horse fencing— circled each block. He was leaning against the fence, just a bit off from the exact corner, but positioned where he could see pretty clearly from all directions.

I decided that I just needed to put the show on the road, and steer it where I needed it to go. I began to stroll towards him, giving an occasional furtive look around as though I were concerned about being watched. My approach and actions caught his attention, and I could see him looking warily at me, glancing around a bit himself to check the area, but he held his ground as I walked up to him.

“Whatchyu got?” I asked him without preamble, making myself sound a little more ‘street’ to sell the con I was running on him.

“Whatchy mean?” He asked back, sounding insincerely confused.

I gave him a look, and then looked around. “Ain’t hardly nobody out here,” I said, turning back to him. “But you out here, holdin’ up the fence. I’m lookin for somethin, and if you ain’t got it, then I need to find out who does.”

He gave me a look this time, and then seemed to think for a moment, before he spoke. “Whatchyu lookin for?” He asked.