At First Sight

by Joe Pascente

  She pulled the trigger and the gun went off, causing Bows to propel backwards dodging the bullet whizzing by her, and falling flat on her back. The gunshot was loud, and it made Angela flinch. Once Angela saw Bows lying on her back cowering, she crawled into the panic room, applying pressure to her wound with her left hand.

  There was a giant black knob directly next to the entryway of the panic room on the inside and Angela reached up from the ground, wincing in pain and slammed her palm on it. The room’s steel door slid shut and sealed itself with a locking mechanism that reminded Angela of a space station door. No one was going to get in this room now. Once the door was sealed shut, the green vibrant light switched off, and the white glow of fluorescent light bulbs lit the little room up.

  Her eyes darted around the room and she spotted a red box marked, ‘Medical’ and opened it at once. Angela unwrapped the bandages inside and did her best to sew up the bloody stab wound. Her hands were trembling, so it was no easy undertaking; however, the adrenaline was pumping in her veins, keeping her focused. After a couple minutes of sewing up her wound and bandaging it, she looked up and noticed a small television screen next to the medical box. She turned the power button on and could immediately see the foyer of the house. It looked completely disheveled. Flipping through the many camera feed options, she finally found Jacobi.

  The camera feed was coming from the backyard of the house. At first, she couldn’t tell who it was, but then she knew without any hesitation it was Jacobi’s body—sprawled out on the grass looking as lifeless as can be. He was on his back, arms crisscrossed over his head, unconscious, or worse yet, dead.

  II. 8 Minutes and 22 Seconds Ago

  The mirror was foggy from the steamy shower, so Jacobi couldn’t see his reflection too clearly. His slasher-horror flick red marks stood out (due to all his minor cuts and bruises), in the blurry reflection, as well as his broad silhouette. His blurred body mirrored a ghostly image of his actual self. Using his bruised right hand, he wiped the mirror so he could see his face properly. Staring back at him, were his light blue tired eyes. All he needed was a quick catnap, or at least a strong cup of coffee, and he would be energized again.

  He touched the spot on his head where the boat explosion had knocked him out and cut a shallow gash in the back of his head. He definitely needed stitches, but a butterfly stitch would have to do for now. He grabbed the medical kit in the bathroom and applied it on the back of his head. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t open up again.

  After dressing in his fresh pristine white collared shirt and black dress pants from the closet, he decided to choose between two different ties to put on. The first being a light green color, reminding him of Angela’s eyes, and the second being a striped blue and gray, reminding him of an uptight politician. He held each one up against his bare chest, delaying buttoning his shirt until he was completely dry. He came upon a decision; he couldn’t help but be drawn to the mint-green option, as he threw each of the ties upon the bed in front of him. His shoes looked freshly polished as he slipped each one on, tying them tight and finally feeling like himself once again.

  Jacobi heard the destructive thunderous sound of the living room wall collapsing from downstairs. Without wasting a millisecond Jacobi got into full-on protector mode and sprinted to the closet. He knew this was where there was some weaponry, so he reached for the top shelf to grab a grenade, which was kept in case of an emergency just like this.

  He ran from the closet to the bed again and reached under the bed frame to detach a handgun—much like the one he had previously, before it was lost in the ocean.

  “JACOBI!” Angela’s scream was almost inaudible because of all the crashing noises happening downstairs. But, Jacobi could still make it out. They were separated, but if he could just get her to the basement panic room in time, she’d be safe.

  Jacobi sprinted from the main bedroom to the top of the staircase. Once there, he could see the giant bulldozer in the middle of the living room. There were too many pieces of debris, shattered glass and dry wall dust to make out the driver of the machine, but he could see Angela’s stunned face below him in the foyer.

  “ANGELA! Get to the basement!” Jacobi shouted, grabbing her attention.

  It all happened so fast, but before the smoke cleared, Angela had opened the basement door and shut it behind her. The only thing that mattered now was getting Angela into the panic room.

  A smaller petite woman ran to the basement door from the living room and Jacobi recognized her from earlier in the day. The bows in her hair sparked his memory. He had seen this woman on the beach with her associate -the same one who had shot Mr. Hicks. They had made eye contact on the beach, and Jacobi knew then she was apart of the operation in some way. Now, it all came together. She was a fellow assassin, a part of this deranged team that was hell-bent on taking out Angela.

  Acting without hesitation, Jacobi took the pin out of the grenade and whipped it unswervingly toward the bulldozer. It clanked against the front of the scoop and Jacobi watched the man driving it dive out the window into the front lawn as the grenade exploded with a furious boom. The dining room floor shook with a terrible force, causing it to partially cave in, underneath the weight of the bulldozer.

  It held up for the most part, but the dining room was now in complete ruins. This was the perfect opportunity for Jacobi to gain the upper hand. Creeping down the staircase one by one with his gun pointed directly in front of his chest, he made sure to keep his (now wide-awake) eyes alert, making sure to look for either assassin. Bows had made her way to the living room when the grenade exploded. But, she was back to banging on the basement door with her fists and high kicks. That’s when Boulder came rushing back into the house, with barely a scratch on him from the explosion. He was lucky the part of the wall that wasn’t caved in blocked the explosion from injuring him too much.

  In a manic act, Boulder began shooting in Jacobi’s vicinity, screaming at the top of his lungs like a deranged cave man. His face was covered in white smoky debris and bullets were flying about Jacobi’s feet. A retreat up the stairs was his only move at this point, which gave Bows the perfect opportunity to place the device Worm had given her outside, and turn the contraption counter-clockwise. Three red lights lit up and then the basement door exploded. Shattered splinters of the wooden door were flown apart the foyer.

  Bows ducked out of the way, but she was still hit by a few pieces of the door. But, at least she was in. She made her way down the basement steps taking a careful approach, as she was the only one of her team members ready to corner the target.

  The gunshots were loud and plenty. Boulder opted not to wear a bulletproof vest—even though Worm told him it might be beneficial—because he wanted full range of movement. He didn’t want anything slowing him down, as he wasn’t that quick to begin with, due to his large stature. He made his way up the stairs firing off shots left and right with his guns. Jacobi was backpedaling as he was shooting in Boulder’s general direction, but neither man made contact as they didn’t have a sturdy footing.

  Jacobi dove into the extra bedroom, right as Boulder made his way to the top of the stairs. The gun Jacobi was using had less than a couple of bullets left in the clip, which wouldn’t be enough to stop this oncoming attack. He looked around the room and remembered the gun stashed in the plant soil, reaching into the dirt and pulling it out, just in the knick of time. Boulder stepped into the doorframe, ready to shoot Jacobi in the head, when Jacobi fired off the gun from the plant. Jacobi had an open shot and hit Boulder square in his right rib cage. The bullet didn’t go through Boulder, but bounced off his rib bone, causing immense pain, but barely a flesh wound.

  Now it was time for Boulder to retreat, so he ran down the long hallway towards the master bedroom. But Jacobi was a good enough shot to try to shoot through the bedroom wall. He fired off several shots, in a single horizontal line, eac
h just a few inches from Boulders large tree trunk legs, catapulting him into the master bedroom.

  Jacobi did his signature kick-up flip to get back onto his feet, and slid through the doorway, guns in front of his body aimed at the master bedroom. The door had slammed shut, but this didn’t stop an adrenaline fueled Jacobi run full throttle towards the bedroom door, smashing it wide open with a bang.

  Boulder was ready for Jacobi, knowing he would be reckless enough to follow him right away. He had just enough time to get his knife into his hand and stand close to the doorframe waiting for his adversary. Boulder held the knife in his right hand and came down upon Jacobi with a robust plunge.

  Luckily for Jacobi, he had enough momentum crashing through the door that Boulder missed his first attempt at stabbing him. The knife missed his body by a few inches, hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Jacobi didn’t have enough reaction time to dodge the next attack though, as Boulder swung his right arm around and sliced Jacobi’s rear deltoid shoulder blade. It was a deep slice, but Jacobi could barely feel the sting.

  Boulder had a better advantage from this angle, so Jacobi dove into a somersaulted roll beside the bed, landing on his back. This caused Boulder to smile because he knew he had the upper hand in the fight. He could finish this menace off once and for all. But this was also Boulder’s main fault in hand-to-hand combat: his inflated ego.

  He had thought he had already won this battle, so he took just a millisecond too long to strike again, and when he leaned over Jacobi to plunge his knife down into his chest, Jacobi remembered his martial arts training and lifted his legs up and kicked with all his might.

  Hitting Boulder straight in the chest, Jacobi caused Boulder to propel back into the wall with a mighty force. His body slammed into the wall hard, causing him to drop his knife and hit his head. Seeing spots, Boulder tried to gain his composure, but wasn’t fast enough for Jacobi’s quick speed.

  By the time Boulder managed to get back on his feet, Jacobi had enough time to grab the light green tie on the bed and come around Boulder from behind using the tie as a strangulation weapon. Jacobi wrapped the tie around Boulder’s large neck, and gripped the ends tight with his fists. His hands were bloodied and slippery but he didn’t let the tie slip out of his hand, even as Boulder tried to smash Jacobi into the wall to break his grasp.

  Due to his side wound from the gunshot, Boulder’s strength—which he always depended on for a fight—was at a low. Blood was draining from his body, slowly but steadily. He needed to act fast or he was going to be choked out and killed. He still had immense lower body strength, even if his windpipe was being suppressed for the time being.

  He practically carried himself and Jacobi’s weight to the opposite side of the room and spun his body around with the last bit of breath in his lungs. Jacobi clung to the tie with both fists, but couldn’t control where the rest of his body flung. Boulder had noticed the full-length mirror across the room and executed his last ditch plan perfectly.

  Jacobi’s body was flung into the mirror like a rag-doll, causing him to release his grip on the tie. Both men were now slumped over on the floor, bloodied and bruised even more than before. They managed to catch their breath but weren’t moving much. They had each depleted their endurance levels, being quite equal in their hand-to-hand combat skills.

  Boulder was the first to get to his knees, still coughing and trying to take a breath that didn’t feel like choking on sand. He wanted nothing more than to step over Jacobi and break his neck with his bare hands, but he just couldn’t find the energy to get to his feet. They had made eye contact at this point and Jacobi was completely wiped out.

  Jacobi, now leaning against the broken mirror, noticed a large piece of the shattered mirror by his left hand. Before Boulder could get to his feet, he grabbed the piece of jagged glass quickly and swiped the piece of mirror as hard as he could right over Boulder’s right eye.

  It was a direct hit and Boulder’s eye was now cut open. Blood poured from his eye socket, as he put his hands over his face, falling backwards and onto the floor. Both men were hurt badly. Cut up and already swollen from the major hits they had each taken, they managed to gain some sort of possession of their bodies and, one by one, made their way back to their feet.

  Swaying back and forth, Jacobi gripped onto the wall behind him; dizzy from being flung into the mirror. He had shattered pieces of glass stuck in his back and hamstrings, and crooked lines of blood smeared across the wall behind him. Boulder was still holding onto his eye, when he spotted the other tie on the bed. He grabbed it and tied it around his head to keep pressure on the bloody eye socket. With his good eye, he spotted Jacobi falling towards the master bedroom balcony doors and ran full speed at him, tackling his opponent into the glass doors.

  Understandably, they both knew this was a fight to the death, as they crashed through the glass doors onto the balcony. The balcony wasn’t very large; it had a single lawn chair upon it and a small gas grill. It was a new addition to the safe house; a decision Jacobi didn’t understand when his boss had built it, off the master bedroom last summer. He didn’t fight it, because Mr. Hornsby told him the door would be barred off just like every other window to the safe house.

  Unfortunately, Mr. Hornsby didn’t complete this task, and now, Jacobi and Boulder had crashed through the door and onto this balcony. Since Boulder used Jacobi’s body as a shield when they had crashed through, he had the upper hand once again and picked Jacobi up with his shaking hands and punched him square in the jaw.

  This jarring hit caused Jacobi to become disoriented. He was attempting to grasp onto the railing of the balcony when Boulder used all his might and flipped him over the railing. In one final attempt to hold on, Jacobi clung onto the edge of the balcony with his bloody fingers.

  The two men looked each other in the eyes (or eye from Boulder’s point of view) one more time before Jacobi’s grip slipped. His fingers betrayed his body and he let go of the edge, falling from the balcony to the grass below him. Unconscious from the fall, Jacobi lay there like a dead body. Boulder squinted his left eye trying to grip the railing tight. He was dizzy and saw two of everything. He stumbled back into the bedroom crushing the glass and mirror fragments under his shoes and found Jacobi’s gun beside the doorframe. He grabbed it off the floor, now holding onto his injured bleeding rib cage and staggered back to the balcony looking down at the man he was about to kill.

  Boulder held the gun out and pointed it down at Jacobi’s body—or at least one of Jacobi’s bodies that he was seeing at the moment. His index finger pulled the trigger back ever so slightly, and that’s when he saw the spots again. The last thing Boulder saw was the blue sky above him, collapsing onto his back, and passing out. The impact of the fight he had experienced with Jacobi had gotten the best of him as well. The two opponents were both unconscious and left for dead.

  This was the precise moment Angela switched the panic room television on and saw Jacobi sprawled out on the grass looking lifeless as can be. On his back, arms crisscrossed over his head, lying there without any movement.

  III. Late for a Very Important Date

  Angela put her hands over her mouth in disbelief. Her knight in shining armor was lying in the grass, bloody and immobile. Hating herself for even thinking it, she couldn’t help but ponder if Jacobi was dead, or alive.

  He can’t be dead. Not now. Not after…everything.

  She flipped the channels to every camera feed on the premises and found the large man who drove the construction machine through the front of the house. He was in the same condition Jacobi was—laying on his back, bloody and lifeless. From what she could tell, he was in the master bedroom.

  She flipped through the other camera feeds and came to the basement camera. There was a wide-eyed lens camera above the panic room door, but the basement was obstructed by Bows’ face. She was right up against the lens as she pulled the camera r
ight off the wall, smashing it on the floor.

  Leaning against the panic room wall, Angela was now blind to the perpetrator outside the panic room door. This room was not only impenetrable as rooms go, but it was also sound proof. So when Angela couldn’t take her frustration and anxiety anymore, she belted out a long roaring scream at the top of her lungs. She felt so hopeless.

  No tears came out of her eyes, as she had shed a majority of them just a short while ago thinking about Mr. Hicks being shot and killed earlier in the day. As well as thinking about her ex-fiancé, Jeremy. She pulled the picture of the two of them out from her pants pocket and stared at it.

  I hope you’re happy, Jeremy. And if I die today, I don’t blame you. For anything.

  While Angela was reminiscing about her past relationship, Worm had snuck down the basement stairs. He had walked through the front door, after his contraption had finally reached 100 percent; though he could’ve walked right into the house through the giant hole in the dining room just as easily.

  He heard way too many gunshots and breaking noises to come into the house at that point. Once the pandemonium settled down, he had radioed his team members but only Bows answered, letting him know she was in the basement and to bring more of his nifty contraptions.

  “A panic room? Holy shit. Wasn’t expecting this.” Worm muttered touching the door as if it were made of an alien metal he had never encountered before.

  “Can you get the door open or not?” Bows asked, frustrated and tapping her fingernails on the metal.

  “This is going to call for some light calibrations to my device. Be patient with me.”

  Bows rolled her eyes clearly wanting Worm to see her annoyed. All she wanted was to get inside this room and kill their target so this nightmare of a day could end. She didn’t know what was going to happen with her team, but she couldn’t care less at this point. She just wanted Rocky to be healthy and by her side. That’s all she needed.