1. Taylor
“Have you ever tasted dirt? Have you ever felt your heart stop, if only for a minute? Have you ever smelled the sweet odor of wet earth, and swallowed it? Have you ever choked on dirt, felt grains of rock fill your lungs? Have you ever been buried alive? Well I have. And it’s not like drowning. Not like you’re weightless, or floating in a dream. It’s hard and rough, like nails in your throat. It’s fear.”
I glance up and meet the eyes of the murderer sitting across from me in the booth. He swallows hard.
“Now I won’t make you suffer that, but believe me when I tell you that you will. And it will be befitting of the fate that lies for you after this. I’m not going to ask for their locations, although I’m sure you’d be willing to cooperate in exchange for me sparing your life, I’ll find them, and I will kill them. It won’t be quick and quiet like it was with Lily, it’ll be long and nasty. And when their heart stops the hell they flee to will be like heaven after what I’ve done to them.”
“Please...”
I whip him across the face with the switchblade in my left hand. He lets out a piercing shriek and clutches at his face where the side of his mouth has just been extended. Blood pours out through his closed fingers.
“Oh my God! You sick bastard! You-”
His screams are cut short as Charlie’s wire digs into his throat. The man’s hands fly up to his neck and his mouth opens wide as he gasps for air. I shove the package down his throat. Charlie releases his grip and disappears through the diner’s back entrance.
“What the hell did you give me?” he asks.
“A small explosive device.”
“What!?”
“I’ve been watching you all night, Taylor. you’ve been drinking since noon. And your drinking has ensured your demise. The devise will activate soon, and when it does it will fill your stomach with gasoline. Then it will spark. The resulting pain will be worse then anything you can imagine. Your stomach will burn apart, emptying t's acids into your organ systems. The flames will spread, aided by the gas and booze, until you die. You are going to burn from the inside out."
I check my clock. “You have less then a minute, I suggest you pray for forgiveness.”
Taylor’s eyes begin to tear and he reaches across the table, latching onto my arms.
“Please, please no!
“Get off me.”
“You’ve got to do something!”
“I said GET OFF!!”
Everyone in the diner is focused on our booth. You’d be surprised how long a person can ignore violence. I stand and place my money on the table, leaving Taylor huddled against his seat. I turn away from the booth.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend, he’s had a little too much to drink.”
“I understand,” the hostess replies with a fake smile.
I pass the staring customers and exit through the front, not bothering to look back. As the doors close my watch alarm begins to beep. I dig a smoke out of my pocket and pull out my lighter. Storm’s coming, the clouds are moving in. I strike my lighter as Charlie appears behind me, his glasses shining from the glare of the diner’s lights.
“Was she worth it?” he asks, removing the glasses that hide his eyeless sockets.
I smile.
“She was...”
2. Betrayal
Someone’s in my house.
I wake with a start, chased from sleep once again by the demons in my mind. Lily lies by my side, peaceful, she’s an angel. It takes me a while to realize she isn’t breathing. Her face is pale, no breaths issue from her lips. I kiss her once, for the last time. Her lips are cold. I sit for a few minutes, alone, shaking from the cold. The room smells of death. No more laughter, no more tears, only death. They were good, the one’s who pulled this job, very good. There had to be more then one.
That’s when I hear the whispers. The voices, reaching out from the darkness of the small apartment. I slide my pistol out from under the bed, tightening the silencer. I move silently across the bedroom, opening the door and glancing out through the crack, the pistol held close at my side.
Two men stand in the kitchen, cloaked in black and deep in conversation. They’re at the fridge, speaking loudly, but not loud enough for most to hear. No lights are on, but the blinds are opened wide. Moonlight shines through, illuminating the darkened kitchen.
“So what’s this I hear about Madden?”
“Madden? The football guy?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Ain’t he supposed to be going into the hall of fame?”
These guys aren’t pros. Something’s up. From the light of the moon I can make put the finish on the two sawed off shotguns in their hands. Fancy, primo stuff. These guys certainly have the green, and they aren’t worried about being quiet when they kill me.
The first one sets down his gun and pulls on the fridge handle. I quickly close the door as the refrigerator light shines across the room. I stay still, and after a minute I quietly open the door. The men are still there. I raise the pistol shoulder height and let the barrel pass through the crack in the doorway.
“What’s the deal with the hall of fame anyway?” the first one asks, raising the carton of milk he’d taken from the fridge to his lips.
“What do you mean? It’s an honor!”
“Can you even name ten guys in the hall of fame, aside the legends?”
“I never thought of it that way,” the second replies thoughtfully.
The first one smiles and brings the milk back up. I fire.
“That’s why-” he begins and stops. A small gurgle escapes his lips. The carton is pouring out milk onto the cedar finish from the bullet hole in its side.
He drops the milk, which tumbles to the floor, and grasps feebly at the hole in his neck. Blood fountains down his shirt. He sinks to his knees.
“What the fu-” the second one begins but I never give him a chance to finish. The right side of his head hits the wall before he even knows what’s happened.
I let the door open, advancing towards the kitchen, scanning the room with my weapon. I soon reach the counter. The one I shot in the throat is still alive. Kneeling in his partner’s and his own blood he looks up at me with eyes full of fear. His face is the color of paste and he is shaking from shock. He speaks in a ragged, choked voice.
“P-Please, I-I-I wa-was just p-paid t-t-to stand here!”
“What?”
“Please d-don’t k-kill me!”
“Oh shit...”
I never even have a chance to turn. He has me. Brick has me. And once Brick has a hold of you, you never escape. Brick’s over three hundred pounds of pure muscle, bald and angry. My gun drops and I quit struggling.
“You know you never cease to amaze me, Tom,” Frank whispers, laughing venomously as he appears from the shadows.
“You bastard.”
“It’s not my fault you fell in love with her. You knew what happens to those who fail a job, and yet you still did it anyway!”
He laughs again, pulling his long black gloves from his hands.
“I’m going to enjoy watching you die, Thomas.”
“Likewise.”
Taylor and Sasha enter through the front door. Taylor takes his place behind Frank but Sasha remains behind. I look at her, unable to understand. She looks away.
“Where’s Charlie?” I ask.
“Unfortunately Charlie refused to cooperate. We’ll be with him shortly,” Frank replies, “oh don’t worry, you’ll see the blind freak soon.”
“I swear-”
“Oh Brick, if you would please.”
I hear a crack as brick dislocates both my shoulders.
I’m out.
3. Sasha
“Why would you do this Sasha? Why?”
I sit in the chair beside her bed. She sleeps lightly, her long, angelic hair spilling across her face, hiding her baby blue eyes. You’d never guess she was a murderer.
“We were friends once.”
Her eyes flutter open and she glances at me. She doesn’t jump with fright, or reach for the gun in her nightstand I’ve already taken. She sits up slowly and looks into my eyes.
“Why Sasha?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer. I understand. Outside rain begins to lightly patter the windowsill.
“I remember when we first met. I remember our first job, how you hesitated.”
“And how you saved my life,” Sasha whispers.
“Yes.”
We sit in silence, not once locking eyes. Finally she breaks the aging quiet.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“I killed you before I arrived. I killed you before we even met.”
She smiles. “Will it be painful?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She lays back, pulling the sheets to her chest, and closing her eyes. I draw the silenced pistol and focus the laser target on her forehead.
“Goodbye.”
I fire.
4. Damnation
A thump wakes me. We’ve hit a bump. It takes me a while to realize I’m in the trunk of a car. My hands and legs are tied. I twist and fight, tearing at the ropes that hold me. I fight so hard that blood begins to run slowly down my wrists, warm and dark.
The ropes pull deeper in, cutting deeper. I wince as I work harder at breaking free. I have to. I have to warn Charlie. Jesus, how could Sasha betray us? But what does it matter? All that matters is getting free and warning Charlie.
Charlie has been my partner for over seven years, we’re like brothers. Two years ago Charlie was captured by a small militia whose leader had been assassinated. I myself pulled the trigger. For three days they tortured him, whipped him, used electroshock treatment, finally taking his eyes. But he never cracked, not once told them where we were. When we found him he was so close to death we thought he wouldn’t make it. But he did. He finally went back and took his revenge. It was beautiful.
Charlie learned to work without his eyes. He’s a magician, his work is like magic.
My arms scream in pain as I work. Brick’s left both my shoulders dislocated, I can barely move. I can feel the car slowing. I hope to god we’re heading uphill, otherwise I’m screwed.
The car stops. I guess I’m screwed.
The motor dies. With four loud clunks my former partners leave the car. A few moments later the trunk opens and moonlight spills in, blocked somewhat by Brick’s bulky form.
“Looks like our friend here’s been trying to escape,” Frank says, his white teeth shown in full form with a long, wolf-like smile.
“No. Honestly Frank, I enjoy your company.”
Frank kicks me in the face, breaking my nose.
“Agh fuck! You fucking fuck!” I scream trying o fight back as they drag me out of the trunk.
“Let’s go partner,” Frank whispers, dragging me down the road.
Ahead is a vacant construction site, probably abandoned. Trucks and cement mixers are scattered across the field. Mounds of coal-black dirt are arranged in neat little pyramid piles. Behind us Taylor slowly back the car up. Sasha follows.
We finally reach the pit. A deep, sloping dune with steep sides all around. I don’t have to ask why I’m here, I already know. Two years ago we buried Samuel, Sasha’s old partner, here. Samuel didn’t seem to know what we’d meant by ‘No FBI allowed’. I know why I’m here. I know.
“Recognize this place, Tom?” Frank asks.
They’re gonna bury me alive.
“Yes.”
“Good, well then I guess an explanation isn’t necessary.”
Before I know what’s happening I’m flying through the air. I land hard in the dirt, still bound at the legs and feet. I cough hard into the dirt and turn onto my back.
Above me Brick has reached the dumpster and is dragging it, fully loaded, towards the pit. I fight at the ropes as Frank and Taylor watch me. Only Sasha doesn’t look. She’s sitting alone in the car, crying, perhaps over Samuel, perhaps over me.
I stop fighting and lie still. Brick is now above me. With a strength that could move mountains, he forces the truck’s load bearer up into the air. Dirt begins to fall below, slowly filling the pit.
“Bye Tom!” Frank shouts.
I can’t think. I can’t fight. And as the dirt covers my face, I hear the car start.
Oh my God, I’m going to die...
5. Brick
He’s watching Sleepless in Seattle. That’s the one thing I’ll always remember about Brick. He loves Meg Ryan movies. He’s a three hundred pound man of wrath and silent anger, yet he loves Meg Ryan.
Brick’s the lone man of our group. I have Charlie, Sasha had Samuel. Even Frank had Taylor, but Brick works alone. He’s so big that he doesn’t need backup. He’s gonna be hard to take down. But I have to do it.
He sits alone in his living room, in his rocking chair. At his side is a bucket of popcorn and a two liter bottle of Sprite.
I watch from outside, rain is falling slowly, but picking up, I’ll have to hurry. I slide back the handle bar of the assault shotgun. Bullets line its sides, more attached to my chest. This won’t be a quiet job if I can’t help it. It’ll be loud. Quick. A rush.
My heart beats fast in my ears. I pull back the safety and let the shotgun hang at my side by the shoulder straps across my back. Two pistols are at my sides, again non-silenced. Silencers slow the speed and force of a bullet, and that’s the last thing I need against Brick.
Brick is turned away from me, only the top of his head visible, fixed completely on the TV screen, not moving. He hasn’t heard me, he hasn’t moved. I ready the laser sight on the back of the chair and fire six times, four in the back, two in the head, shattered glass peppers my face. The body falls forward and hits the ground. I lower my weapon.
On the floor lies a large punching dummy. Beans pour out from the top of its head, slowly piling onto the floor.
“What the hell?”
Then he’s behind me, his shadow looming up. Before I can even turn he grabs me by the arm and hurls me across the lawn. I land hard in the half-wet dirt, my gun skidding out into the darkness. I’m winded. Pushing myself from the ground, I spin around with the shotgun raised.
Brick slams into me, headfirst, like a bull. The shotgun goes off, firing a round into the air, only grazing the side of his face. We both slip and hit the ground. I aim for his back, but the shot hits earth as Brick rolls off to the side, faster then a man his size should move. I fire three more rounds, each with the same results. The chamber clicks empty. I don’t have time to reload.
Brick’s on his feet again, gaining momentum. I quickly sidestep, pistol in hand and fire off a shot that hits his shoulder. Brick barely falters and swings around, charging once again. I stand my ground as he nears, firing off two more rounds, one in each leg. Brick tumbles off balance and reaches out for me as he falls. I spin away but not fast enough.
His hand closes around the shotgun strap and we both go down. With a snap, the strap breaks, sending the shotgun spiraling off across the lawn. Now all I have is my pistol.
Brick looms up, his eyes dark. Spittle drips from his mouth as he lets out an inhuman scream, reaching out for me. I raise the gun but his arms lock me in place. I feel my chest begin to crack as he tightens his grip. I can’t breath. I reach into my pockets and pull out the switchblade Taylor had encountered earlier this night. Brick lets out a manic laugh as he sees the pitiful weapon I hold.
I drive the blade deep into his eye.
With a savage scream of pain he drops me, grabbing the knife. He grips the handle and with a mighty yank pulls out the blade, his left eye still attached. I stare in disbelief as he slides his eye from the steel and tosses it aside, raising the blade high into the air.
A crack issues from the distance and Brick stumbles to the ground beside me. I look down at his back, bloody, ragged, and torn. Charlie appears from the house with the assault shotgun slung around his shoulder.
“You okay, Tom?” he asks, holding out his hand and pulling me to my feet.
“Yeah,” I reply, whipping the wet dirt from my hands, “yeah, I think I’m okay.”
Overhead lightning showers down upon the earth, as if preparing for our final kill...
6. Savior
I’m dying. I’m dead. I’m gone.
I can only see darkness. My lungs begin to fill with rock. Shudders begin to rack my body, each more violent then the next. I can hear the car start above me. It’s leaving. It’s gone. No more moonlight, no more sunshine, only dark. I close my eyes.
Then I feel them. A pair of strong hands clasp around mind, and with a tug, I feel myself being pulled out of the pit. My savior drags me out. I lay coughing, spitting out dust, trying to catch my breath. Chunks of rock come up with every breath. I stick my finger down my throat and puke, dispelling most of what I’ve swallowed. I look to my side and see Charlie kneeling.
“Hey, Tom.”
“Ch-Charlie? That you?”
“Who else do you know with two missing eyes?”
“What are you doing here? How’d you find me?” I ask, dizzy and nauseous.
“They already offered me a chance to join them, but I refused; where else do they take traitors?”
“I’m not a traitor.”
“To them you are.”
I look around the yard. No car’s in sight.
“How’d you get here?” I ask him.
“Ran.”
“You ran?”
“Is that so hard to conceive?”
“Sorry, Charlie.”
“Don’t be,” Charlie replies, dismissing the question with a wave of his had.
He pulls out his glasses and puts them on, covering his eyes.
“So where do we go?”
“I don’t know, Mexico maybe.”
“Well then we better get going,” Charlie says, helping me to my feet.
“Wait, I need to do something before we leave.”
-----------
I open the door to the apartment, it slides slowly open. Charlie and I walk in, not bothering to search the area. They think I’m dead, and by now they’re searching for Charlie.
“I’ll stay here,” Charlie whispers, standing in the doorway.
“Thanks.”
I sweep my way across the apartment and step into the bedroom. Lily hasn’t moved, I knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t, but I’d still hoped that somehow...she would. She's still as beautiful as ever. I kneel beside her and bow my head.
“There was nothing I could do, Lily,” I whisper, taking he hand in mine, “I’m so sorry. God, why? Why did you take her?”
I gaze at her and finally stand, letting her hand fall from mine. When I exit Charlie is still waiting, he hasn’t moved.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I tell him.
“Take your time.”
He understands.
I enter the bathroom and let the faucet run, splashing the cool water across my face. I look down and see Lily’s purse, she always forgot it here. I begin to look through it, emptying it’s contents, hoping to find the number of a family member to let them know what has happened. I knock over a few items and bend down to retrieve them, I stop.
On the ground lies what looks like a small pen. As I examine it I realize what it is. A pregnancy test. It was blue.
“No. Oh my God...”
My heart wrenches as I drop the test and grab the side of the counter, trying to breath. I let my body rock back and forth, racked with sobs. I slam my fists into the glass mirror, tearing and cutting my hands.
“No! No! No!”
I can hear Charlie knocking at the door, trying to get it open. I kick out, breaking the water pipe below the sink, sending torrents of water across the ground. Charlie kicks the door in.
“Tom! What’s wrong?”
“Get away from me!” I shout, not bothering to hide my tears.
“Calm down!”
Charlie grabs me by the arms and holds me back to keep me from doing any more damage. I stop fighting and let myself slide against the wall, my face in my hands. I look up at Charlie, my eyes red and swollen.
“Charlie. I’m gonna kill them all. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill them all...”
7. Frank
High above us, thunder roars and lightning cracks across the sky. Our shoes are soaked and coated with mud. Rain pours from the heavens, saturating the ground below. The sweet smell of earth rises high into the air. Charlie stands at my side, looking out into the darkness.
“I can barely hear over this, Tom,” he says.
“Don’t worry Charlie, stay back. I need to do this alone.”
Frank waits for us across the field, wind picks up, lightly blowing his black coat around his form. He is expecting us. He doesn’t make a move, instead watching us intently, his snake-like eyes shining in the rain. We march forward, finally stopping no more then fifty feet away from each other.
“Like I said, Tom, you never cease to amaze me.”
“Well I try not to disappoint.”
“I see.”
Charlie fidgeted, turning his head towards Frank’s voice.
“You did good, Tom. They’re all dead. Can’t we just let this go to rest?” Frank asks.
“I’m not the one who betrayed you, Frank. I didn’t make you kill Lily.”
“Oh I did more then that, Tom,” Frank says, smiling darkly, “I fucked her.”
Charlie reaches for his gun.
“You bastard.”
“No,” I say, stopping him, “this is between me and him, no one else.”
Frank went on.
“Why do you think you didn’t hear us? We drugged you, both of you. And I had my way with her, just before I snapped her neck.”
“Back up, Charlie!”
Frank spins around and stops, as if a thought had just crossed his mind. He turns to us.
“Oh-and my condolences to you for the loss of your son.”
I let Charlie go and draw my gun, the laser sighting stopping on Frank’s chest. At the same time he goes for his, I fire. The bullet misses Frank by inches, he turns and fires a round past me. I hear Charlie drop from behind.
“Charlie!” I scream, firing again, unable to take my eyes off Frank.
We exchange three more shots, advancing slowly, ducking and running back each time we inch closer. I finally see my opening.
I lunge at Frank, bringing him down, his gun flying away into the mud. I land a punch on the bridge of his nose and let out a cry of savage delight as I hear it snap beneath my fist, sending out two splatters of blood. I lower my gun and fire, spitting up crimson-brown mud that splatters us both. Frank latches onto my hand and sinks his teeth into my skin. I scream in pain and drop the gun. I feel myself being thrown over into the mud.
I fight back as Frank holds my face into the mud, hoping to drown me. My head feels light and dizzy, I finally kick back, forcing Frank under me. I elbow him twice in the face, destroying what’s left of his nose and roll away, reaching for my gun.
Suddenly a sharp pain stops me and I look down to see the head of a switchblade, buried to the hilt, in my foot. I’m pinned. Frank scrambles up after the gun. I gasp as I tear the blade from my foot. As Frank reaches the gun I tackle him, holding him down and twisting his finger back till it snaps.
Frank begins to scream. “You bastard! I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!”
I pull a shotgun shell from my shirt and force it into his wide mouth. His eyes open wide as I rip the gun from his broken hand, cocking the hammer. He lets out a whimper as I force the barrel in his mouth.
We lock eyes. I pull the trigger.
The resulting blast blows out the back of his head, his brains fertilizing the earth. I let him drop. I let him go. It’s over. I push myself up from the soft dirt.
“Charlie. Charlie!?”
I run, limping in pain, to where Charlie lay.
“Charlie man, you okay?” I ask.
He leans up, holding his arm where the bullet hit.
“I’m a little shook up, but I’ll live.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah I’m good,” he laughs.
I help Charlie up.
“Is it over, Tom?” he asks.
“Yeah it’s over.”
“Good,” Charlie replies, sliding his black glasses over his eyes.
8. Redemption
Charlie stands at the car, dressed in a white suit, his hands crossed, waiting for me. I kneel down above the two graves, one Lily’s, the other Sasha’s. Only Sasha was buried, we left the others behind. I place the white Magnolias across Lily’s grave. They were always her favorites. I stand.
White Lilacs float down from the trees below, dancing to the whispers of the wind. The sun shines through, illuminating the names on the graves. I rub my hand across the smooth headstone, feeling my son’s soul flowing from it. I can hear Charlie approaching.
“Thomas, after this we can never see each other again, you know that, right?”
“Yeah I do,” I whisper. Charlie turns away.
I kneel again and read Lily’s name aloud to myself, quietly.
‘When there’s nowhere else to run,’
‘is there room for one more son?’
‘Oh, one more son.’
I close my eyes and smile, feeling the tears run down my cheeks. I wipe them away.
‘If you can hold on.’
‘If you can hold on, hold on.’
I look behind me. Charlie is gone, his black glasses lay atop the hood of my car. I push myself back up.
‘I wanna stand up, I wanna let go,’
‘You know, you know, no, you don’t, you don’t.’
I limp my way across the cemetery to my car. I snatch Charlie's glasses from the hood and slip them into my pocket. I open the car door and slide in.
‘I wanna shine on, in the heart's of men.’
‘I want an answer from the back of my broken hand.’
I slip my key into the ignition and turn it on. The engine roars to life. I put the car in reverse and pull back, watching the last of the lilacs float down, then I speed away.
THE END
(Song used in Chapter 8 is All These Things That I Have Done by The Killers)
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