Buck Bellringer: Heed the Call: Chapter 1

If someone told you you’ll survive the apocalypse and if you were inclined to believe them you might imagine a multitude of challenges and hardships that survival would cost. Among the dozens of possibilities Buck had imagined he would face cleaning up after punk teenagers did not count themselves among those trials but sure enough here we are.

Buck Bellringer stood facing the wall glowering at the dishonor before him. Crudely marked on the wall was a harsh caricature of Head guardsman Seizer staring down a crying baby with the words ‘no crying’ scrawled across street art. Buck ran his hands across his shaved head releasing an exasperated breath. He reached for the weathered tools of his fight against injustice and terror a pair of weapons crafted for the brave purpose of cleaning the streets, a bucket and scrub sponge. People passed Buck on the street flying by teleporting and even walking on the street walls. Buck scrubbed at the graffiti and after a few minutes it was gone. Buck walked on the sidewalk a few blocks until he arrived at his destination a run down two story building, an unnecessary relic of the past, the Neighborhood Watch.

Buck stepped into the lobby of the building and nodded in approval at the tidiness of the empty room. He walked hopefully over to the bulletin board at the far side of the room. Buck kept the doors unlocked and people could either call him or post an issue on the bulletin board they wanted the neighborhood watch, Buck Bellringer, to deal with. The board had nothing to offer Buck no robbers, hoodlums, or bad guys on Bucks to do list. He ripped down the single paper giving the street name the graffiti had once presided on. He lit a fresh cigar and savored its taste before moving again. Buck began to make his way up the stairs to get his things, he decided that if he wasn’t going to save the world today he would keep training to save it tomorrow. He left the building with a mission to blow off some steam with his best friend, a punching bag.

It wasn’t much later in the day until Buck returned, he had failed his mission rather than his fists easing his frustration they had churned it and strengthened it. His arms had acted like twin pistons powering a factory of displeasure. An encounter with private investigator The Ringer had soured Bucks already bitter day the creep was saving more lives than Buck sought to, while the P.I. was out solving crimes and saving Boxers Buck was washing graffiti off walls.*

Bucks attitude had come to a boiling point here he was perfectly willing to help and more than eager to protect and serve back in the same state he was before the world ended boxing and being a loser sure he had a house now but it was practically a shack built decades ago to house god knows what. If Buck had been a thinking man he would have realized how much he and his little headquarters had in common but more pressing matters had themselves heard over the ringing of bells like the match Buck had lined up for the night.



*Read The Ringers Bigtime Part 2 to see Bucks conversation.

Comment saying what to do better next time.

