The Legend by G. A. Augustin Read Free Book Online Page B

the bus for the duration of the trip. 
     
    After enduring the torturous five hour ride, I finally arrived at downtown Capitol City bus terminal.  The heavy rain pelted the roof and windows of the bus.  The line to the exit was hampered by the elderly and passengers struggling to retrieve their bags stored on the overhead compartments.  The antsy passengers became unruly as their escape from the malodorous and blistering bus was hindered.
    I felt alleviated the moment I stepped off the bus.  However, it wasn't too long before I was bombarded by overbearing taxi drivers badgering for a fare.  I jostled passed them and headed to the ATM.  I fetched my entire savings, a measly three hundred bucks, then treaded to the subway station and waited on the platform for the next arriving train.
    Twenty minutes past before a red graffiti-tainted train trundled into the station then screeched to a stop.  The double doors parted and I stepped into the rearmost car.  The puddles of grime from the passengers' wet shoes smeared the floor.  There were unruly hooligans inside the car all sporting black leather biker jackets with a red horizontal strip going across the back.  They were speaking brazenly amongst one another and scribbling graffiti on the walls and doors.  One was carving his street name into the window with a large serrated blade; "Domino Sullivan."
    I came upon a decent seat amongst the piles of gum wrappers, newspapers and snack bags discarded on the benches.  I leaned back and hunched my head over my chest.  Just as the train left the station I overheard one of the individuals belt a sharp whistle tune and the rowdy crowd drew quiet. 
    Suddenly, while my head was slouched down, I heard footsteps approaching.  "What's in your pockets?"  Domino Sullivan demanded.  I brushed him off and persisted to stare at the floor.  "You deaf?"  He barked while revealing his pristine six inch silver knife.  The blade reflected an elongated image of me as he hoisted it before my eyes. 
    "Empty out your pockets!"  He suddenly clenched my hood that was still covering my head.  He was bold and I felt disrespected by him touching me.  It had gotten me mad.  I swiftly smacked his hand off my clothes and pelted him in the sternum with a right uppercut.  He buckled over, fumbling the knife and then faltered to his knees.  He clenched onto his chest while coughing harshly. 
    " WAH-DAH FUCK?"  Another one of the gang members barked.  The other three suddenly began barreling in my direction.  At that moment, the bane this city caused me to endure resurfaced.  It infuriated me.  I wanted retribution: violent vengeance.  I wanted to inflict deep pain.  I wanted to scar their faces so at any moment when they peered at their reflection they remembered me.   
    I bent over, snatched the serrated knife off the floor and firmly gripped the handle.  I held it up and got into a fighting stance.  One persisted to rush me as the others became hesitant.  Once in arms reach, he cocked his right fist back and pitched a right hook towards my face.  I eluded the punch then slashed him on his thigh.  The keen-edged blade caused a profound gash.  He staggered to a bench clenching onto his leg as it began bleeding profusely.
    "GOT -DAMMIT!"  The hooligan bawled while tending to his wound. 
    I clenched the knife tighter and sauntered towards the individuals.  "Chill out!"  They pleaded as I persisted to advance.  The train screeched to a halt at the following station.  The hooligans urged me to "Put the knife down" as I neared them.  Suddenly, through the window, I caught sight of a dark figure poised on the platform; that black cloak that flowed off his shoulders and disposed on the floor in a perfect crescent, that black mask that concealed his face and amplified his devilishly red eyes.  He held me against that brick wall while Lolani's killer escaped through the alley.  "You bastard!"  I growled and darted off the