Chapter 19: The Po-lice
Wulf had scarce gone a block, when he heard pursuit behind him. The blacks were rushing up, showing their knives. Tibo, he noticed, had a cheap looking handgun, held in his left fist, since the other was still in bandages from when Wulf had crushed it. Tibo laughed, taunting him with “Run boy- run! We gonna fix yo now, yo see-“ but then he broke off abruptly, for the giant white youth had come running towards them!
The Northern youth was never one to wait for a fight, he took the fight to the enemy. And the enemy was what he knew these city-bred savages to be- not only to him, but to all of what was real and decent in western civilization. Tito stopped, and even backed up, as did his fellows. He held out his gun, and fired.
Wulf had been anticipating such a move, and had been zigging and zagging as he ran- the bullet whizzed by him, and then he was upon them. His sledge like fist connected with Tibo’s face even as he grasped his left, gun holding hand, with his own left. Tibo gasped, and then with a crack his finger bones snapped against the hard metal of the gun, and he dropped like a log.
Then the others were on the youth. He was a whirling wildcat, moving so fast they could hardly close with him. Two came at him with knives drawn, blades shining in the sunlight. Catching the ones wrist as it descended towards his chest, he kicked the other in the crotch, bringing him down with a groan. He whirled around with the captured wrist in his hand, and broke the wrist while he threw the man bodily into another. Wulf snatched the liberated knife from the sidewalk as the other two charged towards him.
“Come on, dogs,” he chanted. It was as if a pack of dogs had attacked a panther, and as quickly as that, it was over. One came at each side, and as the one slashed on his right, he slashed back quicker, and his blade sank deep into the arm of the attacker. The knife fell from nerveless fingers, as the youth grasped his bleeding arm in pain and shock. Simultaneously, or so it seemed to the black on the other side, a sledge like fist shot out, hitting him in the side of the head. Blood started from his nose, and he fell instantly in a crumpled heap.
Sirens were sounding in the distance, as a U of C security car rolled up.
“Get in, Wulf- the police are coming fast, and they will blame you,” said Wes Parker, the private cop who had decided to watch out for the young white youth. Wulf got in the passenger side, wordlessly, and Wes took off like a shot down a side street. “You’re going to have to get out of town now, son- in this place, if you haven’t figured it out by now, everything is caused by relentless white racism- the poverty, the violence, the crime, the sloth and savagery- it’s all the white people’s fault! Never mind that white on black crime is almost nonexistent in reality- the media and the politicians, all on the far left nowadays, will not give up this huge lie. They will try to make you a sacrificial lamb in any way they can.”
Wulf swung his blazing blue eyes on the officer. “But it was all them- they attacked me.”
“I know,” said Wes, “I saw the whole thing. It was over almost before it began, I would have helped, but you took care of it before I could even act!”
“Thanks,” said the youth, “but when I cannot fight my own fights, I’ll know it’s time to die.” He smiled grimly, his thin lips pulled back into a tight line.
“You are certainly…formidable,” said the officer, with a degree of awe in his voice, “but you can’t fight an army single-handed. And that is what has been stirred up, my friend- an army of sanctimonious, liberal fools and their willing henchmen of black apologists.” He kept up driving at a rapid pace, leaving the scene of disabled blacks further behind. “If you need your things, I can stop at your relative’s condominium- you’d better clean out your stuff- you can organize your plans at my place.”
Wulf nodded, and Wes sped along towards Nora’s place. After Wulf emerged with a couple of bags containing his clothes, and his cache of weapons, he explained about his jeep being parked in back.
“All right- follow me in that.” The youth got his vehicle, and sped after the officer towards his home. He felt rage and frustration, but his way now was clear- to get out of this damned city!