(2013) Shooter

by Jack Parker

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Connie, this way… I can't hurt anyone anymore." I think I smiled, but I couldn't really feel my face. But apparently it scared Con even more, because she edged closer.

  And, seemingly of it's own accord, the gun inched upward until it caressed my jaw and my finger tickled the trigger.

  I guess that was my intention. I don't know… I really wasn't thinking clearly.

  "I didn't mean it, Gracie." She blurted, panicked.

  And as much as I realized I wanted to hear those words, they didn't help one bit. The damage had been done. That door was open, and all of the long suppressed shame and self-loathing was pouring through.

  Out of the blue, with a yell, Con charged toward me, and in my surprise, I lowered the gun and tried to move out of the way, but I stayed still because in that split second, I realized that if she missed me, she would go tumbling into the water below.

  BANG.

  My gun discharged when Constance smacked my wrist away, tackled me to the dirt, and wrestled it from my hand.

  "Oof!" I hit the dirt hard with a loud thud. Constance hauled herself off me and stood, glaring and flinging the gun off of the cliff and into the water.

  "What the fuck are you thinking? Jesus!" She shouted as she hauled herself off of me. I, meanwhile, was stunned into both silence and stillness. So I sat there on my butt and stared up at my sister. Leave it to her to yell at someone who had just been about to kill herself in a very messy way. "I don't think you have any clue how much that scared me."

  I snapped out of my trance in time to realize that I had actually been contemplating suicide. Me? Suicidal? It almost seemed crazy now. Almost. But there was till a little nagging voice that poked at me. It taunted me. 'You know…' it said, ' there was a valid point to all that mental ranting…'

  I shoved that thought away. No. I will not.

  "Not really." I mumbled, like a child who knew they'd done something wrong. "I just… I really don't know what happened there. I'm sorry."

  My good sense and personality popped back into its rightful place when Constance spoke again. "I didn't mean it." She repeated.

  A soft laugh forced it's way from me. "Sure you did. But I don't really blame you."

  "You won't do them any good by blowing your brains out." She stated frankly. I basically ignored that statement and tried to get up. I failed once, but succeeded on the second try.

  I stood up and went back to the car, ignoring my sister's protest when I dropped into the driver's seat and started it up. Constance sat beside me, watching my every movement warily. As though I would drive the car into the reservoir or something with her in it.

  Right.

  "We have places to be." I muttered.

  "Where?" she asked, cautious.

  "Wanna see where I live?" I grinned toothily at my sister, but it must not have been very pretty. I was still bleeding, after all.

  I pulled Con's green Malibu alongside my motorcycle and hopped out again. This would be interesting.

  Unfortunately, exactly how cold I was seemed to occur to me as I quivered violently. I suppose being in twenty degree cold in nothing more than a cotton t-shirt and jeans and a pair of sandals wasn't beneficial to one's health. My teeth chattered, which didn't help that fact that several were loose.

  I felt like shit. And most likely looked like hell.

  I entered my home, my sister right on my tail, until I reached the top of the staircase.

  "Alright, I'm going to go in and head off my roommates, you wait thirty seconds before you come in. Alright?" I whispered intently. Constance nodded, and in the semi-darkness, I caught her mouthing the word 'Roommates?'

  I spun back on my heel and walked into the house, and started when I heard a squeak.

  "Grace? That the hell happened to you?!" Julia stood, in the kitchen doorway, her jaw slack and a bowl grasped in one hand. But the bowl clattered to the floor, and thank god it was empty (and plastic), and Julia flew across the living room to look me over.

  She had a gentle grip on my chin, and turned my head to look at my black eye and bloodied nose.

  "Agh…" I grumbled as she shifted a loose tooth accidentally.

  "You still haven't answered me." She glared.

  "You haven't given me a chance to… I got into a bit of a scrape." I shrugged.

  "A scrape?" Julia snorted. "Someone beat the hell out of you!"

  "Feels like it."

  "What happ-… What the fuck is going on?" I saw Julie's brown eyes flick right past me. To Constance. She let go of my face and stepped back from me, looking utterly pissed. Her voice dropped to a whisper, which scared me more than if she'd been yelling. "What is your sister doing here?"

  I didn't stop to wonder exactly how she knew so quickly that it was my sister who had walked in. She's never met her.

  I looked past Julia and caught Daisuke watching with a disapproving look on his face. His jaw was fixed in a frown. I think he might have been a little pissed as well. Maybe.

  "Now… that's a funny story…" I started, with no humor at all.

  "Grace." Julia growled. "Answer the fucking question."

  Oh, shit. That was the scary tone.

  I took a deep breath to steady myself. And the ambient heat from the fireplace was helping to still my shuddering limbs, too.

  "Someone broke into my sister's house, and I was asleep on the couch… I tried to fight him off, but as you can see, he just about won, until Con whacked him upside the head with a pan…"

  I trailed off, but Julia was still glaring at me. "And…?"

  "I recognized him, Julie."

  "You…" She froze, trailing off this time, looking lost for words now. "You knew him?"

  "In a manner of speaking."

  "So that means…"

  "Someone sent a hitman to my sister's house. To kill at least one of us."

  "That's different, then." Daisuke appeared at Julia's shoulder. "Very different."

  Julia seemed to think so, as well, because she calmed down almost immediately, and attacked me with anxious questions.

  "Are you alright?"

  "I'll have to see a dentist- Ach, what are you doing?" I muttered as Julia caught my chin again and held my mouth open to examine my teeth.

  "Hold still." She ordered, and I did. "Yeah… I think some of these are going to be coming out." She let go of my jaw and I stepped back, bewildered, and she followed me and ordered me to stand still again. I complied, unwillingly.

  She got my nose, and I tried to wiggle away (Geroff me!) but this caused her to grip my nose and squeeze, causing me to moan in pain and bleed a little more. It dripped on the floor. Ew.

  "Well, it didn't crunch, so it's not broken." Julia let go of me, and I glared at her, holding my bleeding nose. My eyes watered up. "Well, that's what you get for squirming. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

  Julia hopped behind me and gently pushed me by the shoulders toward my room, presumably to the bathroom. And then there was my closet. Constance sheepishly followed.

  Roughly a half-hour later, I emerged from said closet, looking much better, but still worse for wear. At least I wasn't covered in blood anymore; that's always a plus.

  Lovely purple-blackish eye, though. And a bruised cheek. And a swollen up nose. I feel pretty… not.

  I walked through my room and collapsed on the edge of my bed, between Constance and Julia. Con set a hand on my shoulder blade, and Julia just looked sympathetic. Well, until both of them bear hugged me.

  "Whafuck?" I barely managed. Between the two of them, I really couldn't breathe. And neither of them offered an explanation, so I sat there, confused.

  They separated, and Julia walked off, leaving me completely lost for words.

  "Grace…" Constance started, looking for something to say. I could sense that this would soon turn into a rather melodramatic moment.

  "You don't have to say anything."

  "Yes I do. Now don't interrupt me, dammit."
She wagged a finger. "I want you to know that no matter what you… do for a living… you are my sister, and I love you. You'll always be my little Gracie."

  I didn't have it in me to reply. I just smiled and tried not to cry. Tears of happiness, this time.

  "I know you, and you are a good person… and I can't judge you for something I don't know anything about… so even though you're a… hitman… I trust that the decision behind that was at least justified."

  "I'll have to tell you that story sometime." I snorted without any humor.

  "Chances are, I don't want to know. I'll kill whoever put you through this." A warm smile spread across my sister's face, and she hugged me again. Suddenly, the world didn't seem like such a bad place.

  "Thanks… uh… can we not discuss what happened, earlier… ever again?" I grimaced. "Please?"

  "I think we can arrange that."

  "Good. I'd rather not talk about my temporary lapse in sanity further."

  "You're absolutely positive that it was only temporary?" she asked, looking worried.

  I sighed. "Yeah. That's the end of it."

  "Good. Because you scared the shit out of me, you bitch." Constance laughed and let go.

  "Oh, that's nice." I frowned.

  "You know I don't mean it… much."

  "Don't make me beat you." I threatened, but it was hollow. I was smiling, after all. "I will."

  "You can't take me."

  "Wanna bet?" I knew I could. She might be a bit stronger than I am, but she's not a fighter.

  "Not really. I've seen you in action. Kind of scary, actually."

  I grimaced. I really hadn't wanted her to ever have to see that side of me. "Sorry about that."

  "Don't mention it. Ever again. Please."

  "I think we can arrange that." I grinned.

  "Good."

  Daisuke stormed in, looking troubled, interrupting our little heart-to-heart. "Grace?"

  "Yeah?" I glanced up at him, uneasy. Not much made him look upset like that.

  "Kendall would like a word with you."

  "What sort of word?" I asked warily.

  Daisuke shrugged. "I don't know."

  I stood up, apprehension creeping in. I wonder what he wants? "Wish me luck." I stomped out of the room and toward Kendall's office.

  When I got there, the door was already open, and waiting, so I stormed in and flopped down on the chair opposite his desk, without looking at him. But I at least waited for him to speak first. That was an unbreakable rule.

  "Graecia." Kendall regarded me with cool, impassive eyes.

  I nodded, but didn't reply. There wasn't anything to say. Finally, I looked up.

  At least he didn't look pissed.

  "I wanted to tell you that I am truly sorry."

  I almost fell out of my seat. "For what?" Well, this was new.

  Kendall watched me for what seemed like hours before he spoke again. "I am sorry because I took your life away from you."

  "You… well, you did…" I admitted, glancing away again. Kendall nodded and steepled his fingers, merely looking thoughtful now.

  "You were how old?"

  He was referring to when he had someone snatch me off the street, knocking me out, tossing me into that cigarette smelling car (why I hate smokers) and bring me to an uninhabited section of town, put a gun in my hand, and ordered me to kill one of his rivals.

  "I was fifteen." I mumbled, feeling all of those fifteen years old again, and a memory surfaced, unbidden.

  Footsteps behind me, I thought nothing of it. After all, it was broad daylight, in plain view of at least four separate houses.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump. That shuffling gait that set me on edge.

  I hitched my books higher on my back, nervous. I walked faster.

  The thumping increased in pace. I walked faster still.

  The person behind me broke into a run, and I set off at a sprint, tossing my heavy bag aside. Panic never set in, I just knew what I'd had to do. It was that fairly calm presence of mind that I'd always had.

  I just had to run, and little old me was faster than whoever had been following me. Whether he was a rapist or just needed a word with me, I didn't care to find out.

  I just hadn't accounted for an accomplice.

  The hollow sound of metal piping rang out as a copper plumbing pipe collided with my head, and I dropped instantly, out cold.

  I'd woken in the car, roughly halfway to our next destination, the nasty scent of smoke in my nostrils. My hands bound, and I was gagged. My head was throbbing. I took all of this in, in a second.

  Have I been kidnapped? I recalled thinking. It seemed damn likely at the time.

  I couldn't restrain a whimper as I tested my bonds and found them to be perfectly secure. I am in deep shit.

  "'Ey, boss. She's conscious." One voice said. I vaguely heard another over a really crackly connection. "Got it." Voice One answered. "Hey, girlie, you can relax. Nobody's going to hurt you."

  I hadn't been comforted. Not by a long shot. I huffed out of my nose in frustration at my situation.

  "I mean it. Nobody's hurtin' you. I ain't that much of a creep." The voice had sounded gentle. Still didn't help. "Can't take off that gag, though. Or untie you, just yet. Sorry about that." He actually had sounded sorry, to his credit.

  I muttered something unintelligible that was supposed to be 'Where the fuck are you taking me?' Hey, I had a foul mouth back then, too.

  "I dunno what that meant, but we're almost there. Sorry about the bump on the head, too. But you were too fast for me. Had to stop you somehow."

  I shrieked something very angry. 'Why are you hitting me over the goddamn head to begin with?'

  "Hey now, no need for that attitude. It'll be over soon."

  Panicked muttering. That was always what they said in movies before they were going to kill you.

  "And I'm not going to kill you. I meant we're here." The car stopped with a sudden jolt to illustrate his point. The driver's side door opened, and the car shifted with the change in weight, and the door closest to my head eased open, and I tried not to scream when a pair of hands found their way under my arms, dragging me out of the car.

  "You're a calm one. I'll give ya that." I was hauled upright. "On yer feet, girlie."

  I finally looked at my captor; a short, stocky, grizzled man who looked more like someone's kindly grandfather than a kidnapper. His blue eyes betrayed a little bit of softness below his gruff exterior. But any comfort that this might have given me was quelled at the sight of the pistol at his side.

  "Here, you can walk by yerself, but if you try to run, one; you dunno where you are, and two, the others aren't as nice as I am."

  I heard perfectly the subtle tone of warning there. He meant business.

  So I dejectedly followed him, a little uncoordinated, as my left foot had fallen asleep.

  We were in the most, quite frankly, ghetto place I had personally ever seen. And that's all the description it really needed.

  I was led into a dark warehouse. This was so hopelessly cliché I thought I was going to be ill. But that could very well have been the headache.

  What we found inside, I wasn't prepared for.

  Seven people. Three, dressed in all black, one female and two males, standing off to one side. They held rifles and looked like they weren't to be fucked with. One older man, gray streaked hair, pristine, expensive suit, loitering with his hands clasped behind his back. His cold steel gaze fixed in me, and I shuddered, despite myself. Another person, a beautiful lady in a deep blue dress, stood beside the man in the suit. Platinum blonde hair and delicate features, she had looked like she belonged in a modeling agency, rather than here. She wore the same frigid smirk that the man had been using.

  Two more. One was an Asiano man, standing way off to the side, a pistol in one hand, and the other hand on the shoulder of a small Hispanic girl who looked scared shitless. She was bound, as well, and our eyes locked as I was led past her.

 
; We were in the same boat; I had an ally, even though neither of us were capable of much in our current states.

  "Good, everyone is present." The cold man spoke, smoothing his suit. "We can get started."

  Get started with what, exactly? Was my first panicked thought. Then he continued. "Bring the young ladies here, please."

  Shit.

  "Come on." Grandpa muttered under his breath to me. I (very reluctantly) followed, all the way to about five feet from the lady in the dress. The Hispanic girl was placed right beside me. We didn't dare look at each other.

  "You obviously have no idea why you are here, of course, as no one has told you… and I ordered them to be brought here strictly unharmed, Jason. Miss Pryor is bleeding."

  I didn't even care if I was bleeding or not. How the hell does he know my name? Why am I here? What have I done? But only then did I register the slow trickle of blood running down the side of my face from my forehead.

  Jason/Grandpa answered quickly. "She's really fast, boss. Had to stop her somehow."

  "There are much better ways of doing that, and for god's sake, un-gag her." Suit guy scolded softly. His eyes went an even more frightening color, and I flinched away when his gaze fell upon me again.

  Jason gently untied the strip of clean cloth in my mouth, and it fell to the floor, forgotten.

  I held my breath and kept my mouth shut. Suit Guy turned his attention back onto me. "I do solemnly apologize for your treatment, Graecia. And yours, Miss Serrano. It was not my intention for either of you to come to harm."

  My feet went numb. He knows my whole name. How does he know my name's Graecia Pryor?

  The air was thicker now, it seemed, and I was having difficulty breathing.

  Who is he?

  And why me and this other girl? What is the purpose of us being here? I mean, all I was doing was walking home, going to do my homework, hang out with my big sister.

  I finally dared to croak out words. "Why are we here?" I whispered.

  Lady-in-the-dress snorted. "So, it speaks." She had a musical voice, as serene and assured as it carried the threat of a painful death.

  "Sinclaire," Suit Guy scolded softly. "That so happens to be an extremely relevant question." He turned his attention back to me. "You see, I need you two young ladies to do something for me."