From what he could see there was seven men inside, still firing. His ears were ringing and he was unable to make out anything that was being shouted to him. Turning back around to reload his gun, Artimus saw a horrific look on Dan’s face. He screamed and pointed at something next to Artimus but he didn’t realize what was happening. Primal instincts took over in Dan, and the love for his friend gave him the will power to make a huge self-sacrifice. Not knowing what he was doing at first, Artimus watched his buddy dive through the air and belly flop onto the ground next to him. The terrifying truth was revealed, and Artimus no longer wanted to look at his friend’s body that shielded him from the grenade. He took Dan’s gun; he would need it when he made his charge. They need me. No time to back down now. I want to be the hero, now and forever.

Nothing was going to stop him from killing the bad guys. The other cops saw Artimus as beacon of hope. An immortal saint running to fight their demons for them. They watched him vault through one of the windows, a gun in each hand blazing and dropping the armed crooks. Justice was being served, and the spectacle of bravery filled each of them with the same kind. Soon the lions had become the prey and they went into retreat through the back of the bank. The cops filtered in through the broken glass and went to aid the surviving hostages.

“Artimus where are you going!” One of the cops called out to him as he sprinted out through the back door and down the hall. No answer came. Clapping footsteps reverberated down the slick hall like pounding of an accelerated pulse. Reckless, Artimus burst out the back door into the alleyway. Up ahead he saw three men getting further away. He started after them but stopped when he heard the sudden sound of an engine roar to life and the screeching of tires. Out of the corner of his eye he detected the approaching danger, a white van with the gas pedal all the way down headed straight for him. A steady calmness, the same that entered him when he saw his best friend die moments ago, was in him. The driver was smart, but not smart enough. He leaned over in the front seat when he saw Artimus point his gun try to kill him to stop the assault, but what he hadn’t anticipated on was the cop taking him down with ease. As he drove past Artimus dove out of the way to safety, but not before he threw a hand grenade, he picked off one of the dead crooks, through the shattered windshield. Artimus rolled across the ground, making sure he stopped to watch the van explode in a larger bomb than he had expected. Some left over C4 had done the trick.

Seconds later Artimus was sprinting at full speed down the alley after the men who had gotten away. The burning sensation in his thighs didn’t bother him, during his whole chase. Some cops had already engaged the men in another fire fight up ahead, but by the time he got there Artimus was too late. The two cops were dead, and so were two more suspects. Off in the distance he heard the footsteps of one last fleeing man. He had no time to call for backup when he reached the warehouse. Artimus didn’t want backup anyway; he was looking to finish the job himself.

“Any you guys know what time it is?” Jerry said with extreme boredom. Ty shook his head at Jerry, who then glanced over at Artimus.

“I have a watch on my wrist,” Artimus sighed, “but I can’t read it from this angle.”

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