It was dark.

It was quiet.

For the first time in almost three years, the streets of Vegas were devoid of life.

Even the people coming out of bars and casinos were too scared to break the silence, because for the first time since that fateful day three years ago, the entire city was dead. Streetlights, traffic lights, apartment buildings, ATMs,…everything was dead. The city of Las Vegas, famous for its bright lights and big casinos, now lay comatose.

The only sound to be heard in the sleeping streets was the rumble of an engine as one of the men responsible desperately sought out a hiding place.

“Allen, what-”

“I’ll explain everything once we have a decent hiding spot.”

“Why can’t you just take us back to the southern district? Why are we hiding in a city full of federal agents!?” Twilight whispered, compelled to not disturb the silence.

“Because this city’s full of federal agents.” he whispered back. “Even with the all the ones I took out on the highway, there’s still enough roaming around that I might accidentally bump into one. If that happens, we’ll be running for our lives again and all of this will have been for nothing.”

Suddenly, one of the armored SUVs crossed their path a few blocks ahead. Allen quickly turned down another street, praying that they hadn’t been spotted.

For the next few minutes, neither of them made a sound. Allen continued to drive through the pitch-black city in search of a temporary haven, while Twilight simply stared out the window.

Eventually, he turned down the ramp of an underground parking garage and parked in the far back corner behind a minivan. He shut off the engine and then leaned his head back and closed his eyes, removing his mask as he did so.

“So…what did your boss do to the city?” she asked.

Allen took a deep breath. “They hacked into the operating system for the city power grid and uploaded a virus.”

“A virus? Like the common cold?”

“Kind of. A computer virus spreads in about the same way a cold virus does: by corrupting portions of the operating system and using them to reach other, unaffected portions. The virus my boss used was made to shut down the city’s non-vital power supplies, mainly lights and cameras. That way, I’d be able to make a getaway where one would normally be impossible.”

“But that’s not what happened.” Twilight stated.

“No. It isn’t.” He took another deep breath. “The virus programming is so complex that not even they could have predicted what happened the first time we used it.”

“Which was?”

“Instead of just disabling the non-vital power supplies, the virus went haywire and disabled everything. Immediately after its first use, we nicknamed the virus City Slayer, because it literally killed Las Vegas. Lights and cameras went out, sure, but it also caused unexpected collateral damage. At first everyone just noticed the annoying little inconveniences that came with the shutdown. The accounting systems for banks abruptly stopped and lost track of everyone’s money, and the whole city experienced plumbing problems.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he recalled that day from three years ago. “Then news of the really dark consequences started going around. Almost everyone who’d been on life support during the shutdown had died, and certain machinery with electronic safety measures had failed and killed whoever had been unlucky enough to be standing near them.”

Twilight turned to stare out the window at the minivan next to them, hugging herself and silently pitying the victims of the first City Slayer activation.

“The good news is that after we used it the first time, the city began installing countermeasures in case it ever happened again.” he continued. “Backup power generators, emergency cutoffs,…the whole nine yards. There’s no way it will ever be as bad as the first time.”

“Why did you need to use it the first time?” asked Twilight.

Allen didn’t answer.

Twilight turned to look at him and was shocked to see a few tears running down his face. Noticing her look, he quickly wiped his face off and took a deep, shaky breath.

“Earlier, I promised I’d tell you the story of how I became a fixer. Do you still want to hear that story?”

“Yes.” Twilight responded forcefully.

“Are you sure? There are some things in this world that aren’t worth knowing, Twilight. What I’m about to tell you might change the way you think about people. Even after you make it home, you may never see things the same way ever again. So think about your answer carefully.”

“I have, and I need to hear this.”

“Then do me a favor. Two, actually.”

“What?”

“One, don’t stop me. It’ll be easier to get through this if I just keep going. And two, when I finish and you have the whole story, just...” he stopped and took a shaky breath. “Judge me fairly. I need your unbiased opinion.”

She stared at him for a moment as she wondered what he needed her opinion for, then nodded.

He took another breath before he began. “Four years ago, you would not have believed anyone who told you I was going to become a fixer. I wasn’t innocent, of course. No one in this city is. We’ve all done something at one point or another that we shouldn’t have. But while I’ve gotten in my share of fights and done my share of shoplifting, I would never have thought of killing anyone. In fact, I was working on becoming a detective.”

He looked over at Twilight, expecting her to interrupt him. Instead, she kept true to her promise, her only reaction being to stare at him in surprise.

“My family, of course, couldn’t be happier with what I’d chosen to make of myself. My stepdad, being a detective, had seen the horrors of Vegas firsthand every time he went to work, and he was so proud that his adopted son would be combating those horrors right alongside him. My mother still had nightmares about our life before him, and she was just happy that I’d never have to go through anything like that ever again.”

He smiled as he continued. “Then there was my little brother, who just thought I would look awesome in my long black coat. Him and I were the best of friends. We got in and out of so much trouble together.”

Twilight couldn’t resist asking. “Such as?”

He thought for a moment, then chuckled heartily. “We went out for a night on the town this one time, to do all the things siblings do in Vegas. We met up with a few friends of ours, egged the houses of everyone picking on him, chugged ICEEs to see who could go the longest without a brainfreeze…which was almost always him…the usual mischief.”

Twilight was trying hard not to laugh at this. “That’s adorable.”

Allen shrugged, still smiling. “He was my wingman of mayhem. It was us two versus the world, and as far as we could tell, we were winning. Our friendship was really challenged on that night, though. A small Midas group was in the area, lifting radios out of cars, when they were spotted and someone called the cops. Unfortunately, Logan and I were both wearing yellow shirts that night. The cops tried to arrest us, even though we obviously didn’t have any radios on us. So we did what any sensible human being in Vegas would do: we turned tail and hauled ass down an alleyway with the cops in hot pursuit.”

Twilight covered her face with her hands while Allen continued, his voice heavy with nostalgia. “Each of us could have abandoned the other for the cops and gotten away that night scot-free. But we wouldn’t do it. Logan was too young to face the cops alone, and being the older sibling meant it was my job to take the fall for our little escape attempt. He wouldn’t have it, though, because he knew that would damage my chances of getting a job as a detective. So we stuck together and, by some miracle, managed to lose them and get home before Logan’s bedtime.”

Twilight couldn’t help but remember all the trouble she and Shining Armor had gotten into growing up, and smiled warmly at the thought. Then she realized that Allen hadn’t actually explained anything yet.

“As wonderful as your family sounds, I don’t see what they have to do with how you became a fixer.” she said, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

The smile on his face fell abruptly, and he sighed again. “They have everything to do with it. You see, in order to rebuild someone, the first thing you have to do is tear them apart.” He paused. “I was sixteen at the time…”

((((((*******))))))

Past

“No.”

“Yer kiddin’.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“C’mon, man! Ah saw the way she was lookin’ atcha! Ah know that look!”

Allen rolled his eyes. “I saw the way she was looking at me, too. I’ve also seen her look at ten other guys the same way.”

Skeeter sighed. “Ah swear, yall’r gonna die a virgin.”

Allen was leading Skeeter down the worn-down street to his house. It was the last day of their freshman year and Allen’s mom had invited Skeeter over for dinner to celebrate. She had also invited Arnold, but he'd politely declined in favor of catching up on sleep lost to studying.

“Look, there’s no way I’m going for Clara. You know as well as I do that she’s slept with just about every guy in school, and probably some of the girls. She’s a cheap slut who’ll go for anyone she meets, and I’m keeping myself well away from that mess.”

Skeeter shrugged in response. “Fine. More for me.”

Allen gave him a look. Really?

Skeeter saw this and responded a little heatedly. “Look man, Ah can’t afford to be choosy like ya’ll. Ya’ll are workin’ on bein’ a detective, and I’m just a mechanic. Ya’ll are semi-decent, while Ah’m findin’ grease in places that don’t seem possible. Ah gotta get my fun in when Ah can, and Ah gotta do it while Ah’m young and still semi-good lookin’.”

“Skeeter, relax. There’s a certain charm that comes with being a mechanic, especially one as good as you.” He paused for a moment, then grinned. “One day, some racer chick of a golden girl’s gonna roll into your garage and ask that you make her car go faster. You’ll do that, she’ll be happy and try to pay you, but you’ll say something sappy like ‘no charge for a damsel like you’. Then she’ll love you, you guys’ll grow up and get married, and you’ll live happily ever after. The end.”

Skeeter shook his head with a smile. “Wishful thinkin’. Extremely wishful.”

“You never know, man.”

For a while, both boys walked down the road in silence. The year had been long and hard, and there had been times when the many stressors of high school had threatened to overwhelm them. However, they’d persevered and carried each other through, and now they were a quarter of the way through this nightmare.

The silence was broken by an odd rumbling noise. Skeeter glared at Allen. “Seriously?”

“Hey, when you worry about your exams as much as I do, you tend to forget about less important things. Food, for example.”

“No wonder yall’r so fuckin’ skinny.” he replied with a sigh. “Well then let’s double-time it to yer house so you can-”

Both boys suddenly stopped, listening.

Up ahead, from around the corner, the sound of gunfire met their ears.

Allen looked at Skeeter.

Skeeter looked at Allen.

Then they both took off toward the sound, intent on discovering its source.

“Who do ya think it is?” Skeeter panted as they ran.

“I dunno.” Allen responded. “The Powells have been pretty active lately, could be them.”

“Nah, who’s the victim?”

“No clue.”

“Aww, c’mon man. This is yer department, ain’t it?” He jeered.

“No, it’s my dad’s department. He tells me which gangs to watch out for, but he never tells me about potential targets.”

The gunshots stopped as quickly as they started. The two glanced at each other, then doubled their pace. Suddenly a white Chrysler came flying around the corner.

“MOVE!!” Allen yelled. They both dove for the sidewalk, landing on their bellies with loud ‘oofs’. Allen was a bit quicker to get up and turned to watch the car slide around a corner and speed off for the main city. He then turned and resumed sprinting toward the bend, Skeeter still trying to pick himself up.

He rounded the corner and stopped. There was a crowd of people gathering in front of his house, all clustering on the driveway and slowly moving toward the front door. His heart began beating even faster as he noticed that the house itself was missing the living room window and the front doorknob, and was pock-marked with bullet holes.

He sped toward the house, intent on reaching the door before the crowd could cut him off. He could see Mr. Sully in the crowd, too. Noticing Allen, he waved him toward the house. He waved an affirmation and made for the door, Sully still doing his best to keep the crowd at bay.

Allen cleared the steps in one bound and threw open the door.

What he saw inside made the world around him stand still. “Oh God, no…”

His stepdad lay against the wall by the door frame, T-shirt and the carpet beneath him stained red and a bloody hole where his eye should have been. His revolver still sat in his lifeless hand, slightly smoking.

Allen fought the urge to vomit and noticed another pool of blood in the kitchen. Knowing what he’d probably find in there he decided to avoid that room, instead noticing a pile of LEGOs on the floor by the couch, some half-finished creation sitting amidst the many small plastic parts.

“LOGAN!?” he called out as he ran upstairs. His little brother had been told that if someone ever broke into the house, he was to run upstairs to their parents’ bedroom, lock the door, and hide. Allen hoped against hope that he’d made it in time.

That hope died in his chest as he easily opened the bedroom door. “Logan?” he called again.

“Allen, over here!” a small voice responded. Allen’s hopes soared as he quickly ascended the stairs, then died again as he looked over and saw his little brother, teary-faced with a bloody hole just below his shoulder.

“Logan!” he exclaimed as he shot over to the poor child, throwing his bag to the floor as he went. Just how sick is this city!? he thought to himself.

“Allen…it hurts…” Logan started weakly.

“I know, buddy. Just hang in there.” Allen responded as his phone shot out of his hoodie pocket and called the emergency helpline.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a voice answered.

“Armed gunmen just shot up my house! I need an ambulance ASAP!” Allen replied as he shed the hoodie and pressed it against his brother’s bullet wound.

“Stay where you are, sir. Paramedics are on their way. Try to control the bleeding until they arrive.”

No shit, really? “Understood.” he said. He then sat down next to Logan to wait for the paramedics to arrive.

“Hey Allen?” he asked.

“What’s up?”

“What happened to Mom and Dad?”

For a moment, Allen debated on telling him the truth. He decided against it, figuring Logan had enough to worry about at the moment. “Dad got hit like you did and Mom’s taking care of him until help arrives. But they’re both okay.”

“Good.”

“How was your last day in second grade?”

“It was great!” Logan said happily, then he coughed and colored the carpet in front of them red. Allen stared at it nervously, but he continued on like he hadn’t even noticed. “We had a pizza party, we played dodgeball, and I got a B in Math!”

“Sweeeet.” Allen said with a grin and a high five.

“It was great until Tyler and his friends pushed me into the trashcans. Hey, can we go throw toilet paper at his house?”

“As soon as you get out of the hospital, we’re gonna grab some eggs and our paintball guns and go to town on the front of his place.”

“Yes!” he said, pumping his fist for emphasis. He hissed as the movement sent pain through his chest. Allen gently patted his shoulder.

“Try to take it easy until then, alright?”

“You’re the boss.” he said with a grin that was short two teeth.

“Don’t forget it.” Allen said smugly. They resumed staring out the window ahead of them for the next few minutes. He started to hear sirens in the distance. Hurry up, dammit.

From downstairs came the sound of vomit hitting the floor. Skeeter must have finally caught up and noticed his stepfather next to the kitchen door. “Al! Where are ya, man!?”

“Upstairs!” Allen called back.

The room was silent for a few seconds, then Logan spoke again.

“Allen?”

“Yeah?”

“Was it supposed to rain today?”

“I don’t think so, why?”

“It’s getting really dark outside.”

Allen forgot to breathe for a moment. It was bright as could be outside.

“Maybe I’m wrong.” he said, trying hard to keep the dread out of his voice.

“I don’t feel so good.” Logan said weakly. Allen looked over and noticed how pale Logan had become. Please God, no. Not him, too. “Allen, am I-”

“No.” Allen said, abruptly cutting him off. “You’re not. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“Promise?” he asked.

Allen almost answered, then shut his mouth as Logan coughed again and stained the carpet even more than before. Just then, Skeeter made it upstairs, going as pale as Logan when he saw the blood in front of them. Knowing what was coming, he went back downstairs to wait on the front porch, giving the two some last few seconds of privacy. Allen stared at the giant splotch for a long time before answering.

“Promise. Everything’s going to be alright.” he said with tears strolling down his face. “Just close your eyes and rest for a bit. Everything’ll be back to normal when you wake up, I promise.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too, buddy.” he replied. “Don’t worry. You’re gonna be just fine.”

He kept saying this over and over. Even after he felt Logan slump against his arm. Even after the paramedics showed up and laid the body on a stretcher. Even after Skeeter helped him out to the swing on the front porch.

“You’re gonna be just fine.”

((((((*******))))))

Present

Allen stopped talking for a moment and sat there, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks.

“That was what finally broke me.” he rasped. He rubbed the tears off of his face, then stared angrily at the steering wheel in front of him and continued, his voice rising. “I promised him that he was going to be fine. Well he’s certainly fine now, isn’t he!? He’s definitely not hurting anymore!”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Twilight’s tear-stained face. For a moment he just stared at her, then he slumped back into his seat.

“Killing innocent people is one thing. It happens all the time and there’s not much you can do to prevent it. But it takes a special kind of monster to kill an innocent child, and when that child is your own flesh-and-blood younger sibling, all you want is to watch the people responsible die.”

He sighed. “But that wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t just want them to die. I wanted to kill them personally.”

((((((*******))))))

Past

Allen sat in the lobby with his head in his hands, staring at the floor. He hadn’t moved for the past five hours. Not to eat, not to drink, not even to go to the bathroom. When he’d arrived at the hospital, doctors had told him that Logan was still alive and that they were doing everything they could to save him. He knew Logan had already lost too much blood; but if his brother did by some miracle pull through, he wanted to be the first to know.

His mother and stepfather, on the other hand, had been pronounced dead shortly after being admitted. This hadn‘t surprised him, though the reality of it had still hit him pretty hard.

Skeeter had stayed there with him for as long as he could, trying to help Allen cope with his loss. Eventually, though, his father had called and told him that he needed help with something. Allen had insisted that he go to work, saying that he wasn’t worth Skeeter’s father injuring himself. Skeeter had reluctantly complied, leaving Allen alone in the lobby to wait for the doctor’s return.

Three nurses had come to visit him since then, to see how he was doing and if he needed anything. All three times he’d responded in a monotone, telling them he was fine. And he still hadn’t moved.

He was still in the same position when the gray-haired man in the high-collar leather biker’s jacket sat down next to him.

The man said nothing to Allen as he sat down, instead retrieving his cell phone and punching in a few numbers. He didn’t have to wait long for someone to answer.

“This is the kid you wanted? This skinny little runt?”

Allen said nothing, but his full attention was suddenly devoted to the stranger next to him.

“Of course not, but I’m failing to see what you see in him.”

Allen sat up and stared at the man, who continued to ignore him.

“That’s it? It’s unusual, sure, but it’s nothing earth-shattering.” The man paused as the person on the other end responded. “Fine.”

He held the phone out for Allen. “It’s for you.” he said simply. Allen stared at the phone for a long moment before taking it.

“Hello?”

“Allen Flynt?” Allen was surprised by the artificially deepened voice that answered, and even more surprised that it knew his name.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s me. Who are you?”

“My name’s not important.”

“That’s debatable.” Allen replied suspiciously.

“Excuse me?”

“Try to view this from my perspective, Robocop.” he replied, standing up and pacing. “What would you think if you came home from school one day to find that your house and family had been shot to pieces, and shortly after that you got called by someone doing his best to pretend he doesn’t exist? Someone who knows who you are, mind you!?”

“I know how this must look-”

“No kidding! Really!? It looks like I’m being called by the same person who wanted my family killed!”

“You misunderstand. I’m not the one who ordered the hit.”

Allen forced a laugh. “Really?”

“Really. I know who did order it, though, and I also know it had nothing to do with anyone except your stepfather.”

Allen stopped pacing and glanced at the man who’d given him the phone, who hadn’t stopped staring at him since he’d handed him the phone. They stared at each other for a minute, then Allen resumed pacing. “I’m listening.”

“His name is Michalis Frost, also known as the King of Las Vegas. He’s been freely running the streets of Vegas since Goodman took office two years ago. The two of them have been working hand in hand to get Goodman on that podium; Frost ensuring Goodman doesn’t have to worry about his competition, and Goodman protecting Frost from the legal system.”

“How does this concern my stepfather?”

“Detective Granger was getting too close to uncovering their partnership. If the public found out, Goodman would face life in prison, and Frost would have to go into hiding or face far worse.”

“So why’d they kill the rest of my family?” Allen asked through gritted teeth.

“They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He shook his head, barely keeping his anger at bay. His family had simply been casualties of a shady political campaign. They’d been murdered for no reason other than two old con artists wanting to make some quick cash off of drug cartels.

He could have snapped right there and stormed up to city hall to strangle the mayor.

Instead he took a deep breath and tried to stay rational, starting to see where this was headed. “Where exactly do I fit into all of this?”

“It’s simple. You’ll be the triggerman.”

Allen smiled as he tried to milk this moment. “Me? But I’m just your average high school freshman. I’m going to be a detective just like my old man.”

“And I was going to be a politician. Instead, I’m running what’s about to be one of the biggest fixer organizations in the history of the Las Vegas underground. Destiny’s a funny thing, huh?”

“As much as I’d love to blow both of their brains out for you, I fail to understand how I’m the best qualified for the job.”

“Your stepfather used to take you to the range all the time before last year, just for fun. Did you ever get a look at your scores?”

“I did.” Allen responded simply

“Then need I say more?”

“Yes, because I’m sure there’s more to the job than being a good shot.”

“Correct. On top of that, your frequent ‘excursions’ have shown me that you possess a skill most other fixers seem to lack: ingenuity. If you can’t solve a problem one way, you search for another way; and you keep searching until you find something that works.”

He cocked a brow at this. “How long have you been watching me, exactly?”

“Since you were twelve.”

“Great.” He sighed. “Why haven’t you sent anyone else after him?”

“At the moment, I don’t have anyone else. I’m looking at a few other hopefuls, but the last fully-trained fixer I have is the same guy who handed you the phone and, quite frankly, he’s overdue for retirement. You’re my best option. You can take or leave the offer, but if you want to see the King face justice sooner than later, I suggest you take it.”

Allen thought for a moment. He’d been ready to go out and personally kill everyone involved in his family’s murder. If agreed to do this, not only would he be able to do just that, but he’d get paid to do it. It was practically a dream come true.

At the same time, though, something held him back. Am I really ready to just…go out and kill a man?

Suddenly a tired-looking doctor came back into the lobby, blood covering the front of him. He looked around until he spotted the teen in the red T-shirt staring at him expectantly, then shook his head sadly.

Allen felt the small ray of hope die in his chest, a boiling rage taking its place. No…I’m ready to kill everyone in Vegas.

The doctor returned to the operating room, and Allen turned back to the phone. “You’re sure you can find him?” he asked.

“Sooner or later. He can’t hide from me forever.”

Allen smiled. “Alright. You’ve got yourself a new fixer.”

“Welcome aboard. Would you kindly hand the phone back to my associate? I need to make some arrangements for your training.”

“Sure.” he said as he complied. He sat back down and smiled at the ceiling.

Your move Mr. Frost.

Author's Note

Just in time for New Year's. Remember to comment and leave a like if you enjoyed.
Stay safe and have a happy New Year's everyone!