A/N: I’ll be bringing in the rest of the Seven soon! :)
Faraday’s eyes opened and he looked around for what had woken him, finding both Ethel and Maria had left the bed and were circling on the floor, both panting nervously. That was when he heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot outside. He immediately got out of bed, the dogs brushing against his legs as they followed him to the window. He pushed up one of the shutters, peering through the crack. Almost immediately, another gunshot went off and he caught sight of shadowy forms down the street, in front of the little market at the corner. Muted yells echoed down the street and then a fire burst to life in the storefront, casting gargantuan shadows of the men across the street.
Faraday reached for his cell phone and dialed 911, lowering it again in confusion when the call wouldn’t go through. No service. He flipped on the light to no effect. Great. Not knowing exactly what was the right course of action, he decided to get dressed and then closed the dogs in the bedroom, wanting them away from the apartment door just in case, and hurried downstairs.
When he got outside, there were more people running down the street, many of them hooded, their faces cast into shadow in the dim lighting. It was clear they were headed for the market, whose facade still danced with flames. Faraday hesitated, wondering what point there was in intervening; whatever was going on, there seemed to be little he could to stop it unarmed and alone. That was when he heard a voice yell out and his gaze fixed on another man, this one standing with confidence, a pistol in each hand. “San Francisco PD; you got ten seconds to clear outta here.” The crowd scattered and that was when Faraday started toward the officer, figuring he could let him know how it started, or at least what little he had seen.
That was when a black-hooded person, slight in build, suddenly turned back toward the officer, their hand rising, the outline of a pistol clear even in the darkness. “Shit!” Faraday spat. Now he had no choice but to get involved, and he’d been doing his best to avoid teamwork since he graduated college. He pulled in a deep breath, energy coursing through his veins, and drove forward with explosive force he hadn’t summoned since his days as an offensive guard, his sneakered feet slapping against the pavement. The person was apparently too focused to notice him coming, and he tackled them just as the gun fired. The pistol clattered across the cement as the person hit the ground with a thud, and Faraday only spared a brief glance to make sure the officer hadn’t been shot (he appeared to be fine, thankfully), and climbed off the person under him, hauling them to their feet.
“Let him go,” Sam said, picking up the fallen pistol and popping out the magazine before emptying it onto the ground. He slipped the pistol into his pocket and looked back up at Faraday, who was staring quizzically at him.
“You do know this idiot was about to shoot you?”
“We’re not gonna have enough room in the jails for idiots like him,” Sam said. “Let him go.”
Faraday shrugged, his expression skeptical. “All right.” He released the man, who ran away without a word.
“Joshua Faraday,” Sam said, re-holstering his pistols. “What’re you doing out here?”
Faraday hesitated, trying to place the face that he knew he recognized, but couldn’t figure out from what. “Detective Chisolm?”
“Sam,” Sam said, reaching out a hand, which Faraday took in a firm handshake. “Been awhile, hasn’t it?”
Faraday chuckled. “I was in twelfth grade, so yeah, you could say that.”
“You didn’t end up in blue though,” Sam commented.
“Nah, I went after football. Didn’t pan out. Anyway,” he gestured vaguely with his hand. “What’s going on around here?”
“City’s out. Maybe the whole state, or more,” Sam said.
Faraday let out a low whistle. “What from?”
“Anarchists, terrorists, hell, I don't know,” Sam said.
“It's not a helluva bad storm somewhere then, eh?” Faraday said drily and Sam chuckled.
“Nope. It'd be easier if it was. Nice tackle, by the way.”
Faraday nodded. “Thanks. Don't forget it; I saved your ass.”
“I won't,” Sam said. “You better not either ‘cause it isn’t likely to happen again.”
“We'll see about that, old man,” Faraday said, chuckling. “What are you doing out here? On duty?”
Sam shook his head. “Just got off, actually. Figured there was stuff that needed doing.”
“Looks like you were right,” Faraday commented.
“So, you in?” Sam asked and Faraday looked at him, confused.
“In for what?”
“Well there certainly aren’t enough law enforcement officers here to keep the order long given how things are going,” Sam said.
“You want me to be your sidekick?” Faraday asked.
“No,” Sam said. “Just asking you to step up. You’d be compensated once this blows over, if it does.”
“‘If it does,’” Faraday repeated. “Great.”
Just then they heard the sound of pounding footsteps and they turned to see a tall man in an expensive-looking suit running out of an alley, his voice, when he called out, uneven from how hard he was panting. “You gotta help me, man,” he pleaded of Sam (Faraday realized quickly he had chosen to appeal to Sam, not him, because he was heavily armed while Faraday was not), “They’re coming after me, they want my wallet; I-” Just then a gunshot cracked through the night, and the man pitched forward, hardly catching himself before he fell, his already wide eyes opening wider. “Help!” he croaked again and Sam charged forward, stepping between the man and his pursuers, who were a little ways behind him in the alley- Faraday could make out at least four or five.
“Get him out of here,” Sam said, his tone commanding, not one to be argued with. Faraday almost replied with a ‘yes sir’ out of instinct from the SFPD camp he had completed in high school, where he’d met Sam. Then he hurried across the pavement to help the man, who was reeling, clearly on the verge of collapse, to keep on his on feet. They shuffled to the side of the street as gunshots split the air behind them and Faraday heard someone yell out in pain. He spared a glance over his shoulder, relieved to see it was one of the thugs, not Sam. But the sheer faces of the apartment buildings didn’t offer much shelter and he looked around, cursing under his breath when he saw the fight was now totally in the street and both he and the man he was helping were extremely vulnerable. Fish in a barrel....
“This does not look good,” Inez said, nodding at the bank of flames six blocks or so away. They were drawing near to Inez’s apartment building, which was the closer one to the restaurant they’d been at. “Why don’t you just stay over tonight? I don’t think you should be going the rest of the way home by yourself.”
“Yeah, that seems like a good idea,” Gwen agreed. “Thanks, dude.”
She knew her friend was joking, but the words still put Gwen on edge, or even more so than she already was. Something seemed to ring true about them. “Let’s hope not,” she said, with a rather forced chuckle.
They continued down the street, their pace speeding up a little further, and they were two blocks away from Inez’s building when the gunfight started next to the burning building. They didn’t need to speak; it was a mutual decision- they broke into a run, sprinting the rest of the way to the apartment building. Inez pulled out her keys as they rushed up the steps, fumbling through them as she searched for the right one. “Sorry, sorry,” she muttered, regretting that she didn’t keep her keychain more orderly. “Almost got it.”
Gwen just nodded, her gaze locked on the chaos so close by.
Faraday’s eyes darted from one side of the street to another, desperately searching for cover, and it was then that he spotted the two women a few buildings away hurrying up the stairs of one of the buildings, pausing as they reached the top step; the one in the lead seemed to be searching for her key.
“Hey you!” he bellowed and they both looked over, one pointing at herself, a confused expression on her face. “Yeah, you two!” he repeated. “Gimme a hand over here.”
The two glanced at each other, and Faraday saw their lips moving as they exchanged words. Hurry up…! He took another quick look back at the gunfight. Sam was holding his own just fine but more upstarts seemed to have arrived. He looked back toward the two women, some fraction of relief penetrating the haze of anxiety when he saw them running down the street toward him. “Help me get him inside,” he said sharply as soon as they reached him. “Let’s get out of here.”
