Two Days Later

Goddess stared at the ruins of Club Olympus. Heavy rains (and the bomb) had reduced what was once the hottest spot in Yankers to little more than a puddle filled with debris. She sighed and stepped away from the scene, wondering if anyone had survived.

Suddenly, there was a low groan, and three figures pushed their way out of the rubble.

“Help would be great!” Goth shouted, dumping a wooden board on the ground.

Goddess ran over and helped him up.

Beside him, Larry stood and shook some mud from his stone shoulders. “Think anyone else made it out?”

“Doubtful,” Lisa replied. “We only made it because of Goth’s teleportation thing, and even that left us buried for two days.”

Damien stared at his watch. Everything was running like clockwork. He’d soon be the richest man in New York. Along with his associates, anyway.

The alarm in the bank went off as three people ran out and jumped into the black Mustang. “Drive!” one of them shouted.

Damien floored it and the car zoomed down the street, barely missing an old lady who had a heart attack in the next minute. “I trust you got it all,” Damien said quietly.

“Sure did,” Karen replied, counting the bills in her sack. “There’s over five thousand in this bag alone, and we got fifty of them, at least.”

“I still don’t feel right about this,” Burn said.

“Of course you don’t,” Damien laughed. “You were a cop in your former life. That’s why we had to change your name. Now you’re an equal partner, which entitles you, like everyone else, to 25% of the profits.”

“Only if we don’t get caught,” Jess reminded him, “so you might want to step on it.”

Damien nodded and drove into the night, a big smile on his face.

Three Years Later

Goth stared at the golden plaque on the wall, its shiny surface casting an occasional glare around the office. “Presented to Goth, On This First Day of January, Two-Thousand and Seventeen, For His Excellent Service as Police Chief of Yankers,” it read. He thought about Mona every time he looked at the thing. Not that it ever helped. It only reminded him that he and Blaze couldn’t save everyone.

But then, Blaze was dead to him. Now, there was only Burn. Damien, Burn, Jess, and Karen, the most evasive criminals ever to set foot in or out of Yankers. They’d be there tonight, at the ruins of Club Olympus. Goth didn’t need anyone to tell him that. Since the day he’d turned his back on everything and everyone in Yankers, Burn had always returned to the site on the same night. If, for no other reason, to give Goth a chance to catch him. Goth hadn’t succeeded yet, and he had a feeling he never would.

“Typical,” he muttered to himself. “I’m the best cop in Yankers, and I can’t catch the four criminals I know best.” He sighed and stood up, walking to the door. It was almost midnight, and Burn hated it when he was late.

Damien flicked the cigarette away and leaned against the car. “This is so stupid.”

“You say that every year,” Burn commented.

“And you still haven’t listened to me!” Damien pointed out. “Why do you do this every year?”

Burn shrugged. “I owe him that much. The bomb that killed Jen was my fault. He loved her, too.”

“You humans and your wimpy emotions,” Damien muttered. “What if he catches us tonight?”

Burn smirked. “Neither of us believes that.”

“Are the girls in place?” Damien asked, always one to be prepared. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” Burn replied. “As usual. Don’t worry, he’ll be here.”

“I am here,” Goth interrupted, suddenly appearing on the other side of the street.

Damien instantly pulled his gun.

Goth slowly walked over to the opposite curb, stopping after he stepped up. “You’re under arrest,” he said.

“Not in this life,” Damien replied. “Move and you’re dead, Goth.”

“Oh, I’m not dead,” Goth said. “Jen’s dead. Not me.”

“Shut up,” Burn growled.

“I’m sure she’s very proud of you, man,” Goth added. “A glorious life of crime. She’s gotta be smiling down on you right now.”

“SHUT UP!” Burn shouted, his breath coming out in pants now.

“And to think,” Goth went on. “The man who nearly killed her is your partner now. Bet that would really make her happy. So what happens when he tries to kill Jess, Burn? You gonna let her die, too?”

Burn slammed into Goth’s chest, sending him to the cold, hard cement. “Get up!” Burn screamed, tears streaming from his eyes. His fists glowed bright red. “Get up or I’ll burn the flesh right off your bones!”

“I don’t think you will,” Goth said quietly, remaining seated. “In fact, I know you won’t.”

Burn was about to carry out the threat, but found that he couldn’t even move.

The ground suddenly shook with great intensity. Damien was thrown to his knees, even as Goth tackled him. “Like I said, you’re under arrest,” Goth repeated, pressing a gun to his throat. “Care to try your luck?”

“I could kill Karen here and now,” Damien whispered, an evil grin on his face.

Goth showed no emotion as he replied, “She’s already dead. I made sure of it myself. Now get up.”