Walking the cramped, damp halls of the underground was a sobering experience. Something he thought was impossible was in his face. Silence. Nothing peaceful, far from it, but it was silence nonetheless. Nothing but the soft taps of his boots against the concrete. Jackie didn't think of how he'd felt when it was all done. He was self aware enough to know Tiffany won't come back. Rose won't be the same, scared girl peeking out at him. Dante won't be his favorite coworker cracking jokes while they sell cheap hotdogs at the gas station.
That world is gone now. On fire like the rest of the city.
The tunnels led to somewhere the silence. From above he heard the killings. Shootings and screaming now filled his ears. Jackie was… indifferent. He wanted to feel something, but nothing came up. He was as empty as ever. And the strangest part, he didn't care anymore.
Jackie stared at the AM. It was firebombed. Harris and Miles were safe, as he checked, but the market was fucked. Burnt to a crisp. He walked over to the side, seeing the mural. It was painted over. Defaced by some men who simply didn't like the color of Rice's skin. A huge slur laid bare across the forehead, and next to it UV's symbol. He simply stared at it. His first thought was to kill whoever did it but that same indifference reared its ugly head. He wandered the streets, seeing the death and carnage he started. The rioters ran by and called UV "The man" or "The best." Tapping his shoulder for a job well done.
More relayed their tales of revenge, as if they were telling their dad of their accomplishment.
"Yo! I killed that bitch who harassed my kids. Thank you, UV."
"I think those blacks have it coming, UV. But I can do it if you're too busy!"
"The jews are the real culprit! Do you want me to take care of it, UV?"
All these faces, and UV just stared at them. Not with anger. Not with sadness. Not with glee or joy. Disappointment or anguish. A blank, neutral stare as they told him what they thought UV was. He wasn't a person. He was just a reason. Jackie realized how subjective the word justice truly was. He walked downtown, where the riots were still in full swing. He stood on top of a car, looking out at the men and women who let their anger out, taking whatever to survive. From afar, he could see the police with some military men running towards him. His eyes panned up to see it.
The sun.
Not much, but enough. Peering through the buildings and smoke, unwavering in its presence. The sun rose. Ashley was right. Jackie closed his eyes, accepting whatever came first.
To the tune of Run To the Sun.
For I know what you are.
I know you are angry.
I know you are tired.
I know you want good.
To be good.
I know you want the bad to end.
The bad to suffer.
The bad to die.
Ask yourself this.
What is bad?
How far will that anger take you?
Be strong. The sun will rise.
And we will all run towards it in the end.