People were running and screaming everywhere, while others just stood still in fascinated horror, as they watch the top three floors of the building start to implode down onto the gutted out seventh floor. It was quiet inside me and I heard the storm around me as if it was a dim murmur in the background.
How had they found me? I covered and recovered my tracks so well! The simple truth of it was I had stayed in one place too long. I never did that, but I had kept coming back to Philadelphia, because of Anna.
Anna!
They couldn't know about her yet. If they had they would have grabbed her and tortured her and made sure to let me know about it somehow. They were like that. Monsters like them always targeted and abused the things and people a person loved most.
They hadn't thought I loved anything. So they had tried to kill me remotely instead of up close and brutally personal. I stared at the burning building before me as fire trucks began to screech to a halt outside their sirens blaring. All those innocent people dead and more of them injured just to kill me.
Had I saved even half as many people from addictive lifestyles of misery as they had just killed? Was there any point to anything I had tried to do in my private war? If this was my legacy than what point was there in continuing if I was only going to reap more destruction to innocent lives?
I killed some they killed many. I pushed back a little and they shoved back hard. What point was there to fighting this war if this was the result of doing the right thing? Why not let evil desires reign. Let the drugs pour in and wreck more lives. Perhaps fewer lives would have been lost that way. But it wouldn't stop there and I knew that.
Evil men with great ambitions didn't depend on a single item to be the people that they were. They existed because they made choices to be as they were regardless of whatever item they were peddling at the time.
People make choices and some of those choices are wrong and those wrong choices hurt both them and others. As long as people desired items or feelings that while alluring, but in the end were harmful, there would be those who would sell it to them. In the 20's it was alcohol. Now it was drugs. Soon it would cycle back to slavery and in fact it already was. In a hundred years the fighting could be over something as inconsequential as strawberry flavored water or as bad as someone with the money to pay that decided the taste of a newborn human baby was a delicacy worth paying for.