A Drone over New York

Max lay there as his blood spilled out onto the pavement. The pain in his chest felt so profound, he could barely breath. The people started to crowd around him.

“Oh my God, I think he’s been shot!” he heard someone say. Hopefully they were going to call 9-1-1. It was his best chance.

Where’s … Anton? Max wondered. He needed Anton there before the police arrived.

A man came over and started to put pressure on the wound.

“Who is he?” asked someone.

“Don’t know,” replied a familiar raspy voice overhead.

Max felt himself shake. He tried to raise his hands, but the man putting pressure on his chest pushed them to his side.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay,” he said. “What’s your name?” he said loudly.

Max tried to respond, but his voice was failing him.

He felt a set of hands on his pockets. Max tried to reach for him, but it was no use. He wanted to tell him he didn’t have it. He wanted to tell him that everything was going to come out. It was beyond his reach. But he couldn’t do it. His little remaining energy seeped from his body.

The warm day started to get cold.

The realization that no one was coming to save him began to sink in.

The world started to close in around him. It was getting dark. He was losing it. His grip on this world was slowly disappearing.

Anton wasn’t coming. But he was right. Max should have listened to him. He wanted to apologize for not listening. If only he had come.

Then there was Rachael. Rachael might be able to make off with the money. She would have to move fast, though. He hoped she would name the bar after him.

He decided to forgive her. She was only doing what he thought she might do. It was just another game to her. She didn’t believe any of the stories he had been saying. Hopefully when she saw the footage, she would realize it was all true. But now it was in the hands of others. The emergency package would end up with Anton. He would talk to Martha. Together they would bring them all down.

A loud explosion shattered the air. The force felt by Max on the ground was unmistakable. People screamed. People yelled. It was all too much for him. He couldn’t move.

Someone yelled “Bomb!” Someone else yelled “Terrorist!”

Max knew what is was without hearing it.

Someone had tried to get to Anton.

The world closed in around Max Overton as he stared up into the bright blue sky. It was up there. Somewhere. Hovering above him. Watching him die.

To everyone else it was just another drone over New York City.