A Criminal Subdued

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James' heart sank farther than perceivable by man. The huge man before him had spun around, and had shoved the imposing GLOCK pistol in his hand to James' head.


It had been a rainy day, one some people would call “gloomy,” but one that James considered rather stimulating. He had slid into one of the few booths available in the heavily windowed coffee shop (a feature which greatly attracted James), and produced a rather thick book on dominating the situation of horse training, an issue about which James could use some council at the moment, having a spirited and extremely green yearling in his dad's pasture that he was on commission to have trained in a year.

James was a tall, deep blue-eyed young man of sixteen, with bushy hair of a dark brown shade. He had developed a large, muscular frame early, being raised on a horse farm all his life, working with horses, hauling hay bales, etc.

Anyway, he was sitting there at a table when Mike walked in.

“Mike!”

“Heyy, James. Wassup?”

“Ehh,” he shrugged. Mike plopped down opposite to James and closed his eyes, evidently tired for some reason. After a few seconds, James continued his reading. A minute or two later, Mike smirked and was about to say something when a tall, looming figure strode into the small building. His shoulders had nearly brushed the sides of the doorway, and he had to duck a little to enter.

“Everyone on the floor, now!” The man's deep, booming voice demanded obedience, not to mention his producing a huge handgun from his heavy overcoat, and holding it in a very military fashion. His voice sounded somewhat Russian, and a little influenced by alcohol. One of the employees tried hiding behind the counter, but the man dragged him out into the open by the collar.

“Now that we're all acquainted,” he yelled, “you will do everything that I tell you, yes?!” Most of the customers present nodded vigorously.

“Now,” The man's back was turned to James and Mike, so the two men instinctively crept up behind him, one on each side.

“We're going to play a little Simon Says, yes?” James now knew that the man was indeed eccentric. But before the man continued, he paused, as if listening. James and Mike held their breath, but the man continued.

“Simon says,” It was then that the man spun around, weapon in hand, and shoved it to James' head.


Mike, however, managed not to be seen, and silently stepped over behind the man. However, he evidently didn't go completely undetected.

“I know you're behind me, little man. You might as well have told me,” the man jeered. Mike's face hardened, and the man turned his head to glare at him, keeping his weapon planted on James' temple. James, however, moved his head over and away from the gun, careful not to alert the man. But, this man, apparently extremely perceptive, jerked his head back to his would-be victim. I say would-be, for at that instant, Mike, behind him, doubled his fists, and brought a blow upon the man between the shoulders with all his might. The man yelled in anger and jerked back around, but before he could turn completely, James brought both fists down hard upon the man's weapon, near the grip. It flew to the floor, and again the huge man spun back around, now extremely angered by these annoying youths. James immediately delivered a hard side-gut jab, Mike giving a blow on the man's left shoulder nearly simultaneously. The man yelled all the louder, and finally stepped back and out of the middle of the two young men, so as to face them. The two young men knew that had this monster not been under the influence of alcohol, one of them would have surely been shot, or something else of an equally unpleasant nature, by now. They both knew that they shared the feeling of being toast, but were somehow stimulated and strengthened by the feeling, being used to, and loving to, embrace a challenge, however absurdly difficult, and using it to become stronger. Again they maneuvered toward the man, one on each side, and gave a steady rain of blows from each side, distracting him and making him turn around in reaction to each blow, only to be assaulted from behind once again. They were slowly leading the man father into the coffee shop, and ultimately away from the handgun on the floor. Finally the man gave another bloodcurdling cry, and launched toward Mike. James at once seized a nearby chair and brought it down hard upon the man's head. The chair being metal, the blow sent the large man to the floor, and Mike had to dodge the huge form falling toward him.

Somebody called the police, who arrived promptly and quickly arrested the recovering man, whom they declared the infamous mass murderer that had been rampaging the area as of late.

James and Mike were greatly recognized, to say the least, by the papers across America, as the two young men who had possibly saved many lives, and helped bring justice to a horrid criminal.



And James did indeed succeed in transforming the wild-eyed, spirited yearling into a gentle, even child-friendly, steed, nearly a month before the specified date.





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LittleBlue said...
May 10, 2011 at 7:57 pm
Don't think I put a pic for this, so ignore any pic you do see on there if any.
 
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