Old Habits

by ChristopherWaltz

One week had passed since the party at Bierce, which meant there was only one week left until Gabe and I were supposed to kill Harrison, thus freeing ourselves from spending the rest of our lives, however long that may be, working for him and selling Manic.

  But there was a problem, because, well, if I had learned anything over the past year and a half, it was there was always a problem.

  As much as Gabe continued to insist he and I were prisoners, being forced to work for a tyrannical drug lord until he decided we were no longer useful and killed us, I wasn’t sure if I agreed.

  Yes, Harrison had brought us to Chicago against our will, but everything since then had been pretty alright, aside from Gabe’s violent run in with Geet. But at the same time, as much as I hated to admit it, he and I had joined a line of work where things like beatings were bound to happen from time to time. We weren’t doctors or lawyers or business professionals; we were criminals, and sometimes criminal work got a little bloody.

  My own thoughts made me feel like a terrible person, but hadn’t I accepted that fact long ago? Hadn’t Gabe? When we were leaving Hastings, his words to me were, “One day, we’ll all become monsters.” Well, this was it. We were monsters, and I wasn’t hating it as much as I thought I would.

  I had decided, whether it was a good idea or not, to try to talk Gabe out of killing Harrison. On top of everything else, the last thing I wanted was more blood on my hands. And even though Gabe had asked to be the one to pull the trigger, I would still be a part of it. I would still, in my eyes, be a murderer. Again.

  I pulled a notepad of paper from one of the kitchen drawers and fumbled around until I found a pen. My thoughts were jumbled and conflicted, so my first response was to write a new letter to Kip. Of course, he had not been able to write back since I had gotten to Chicago, but being able to write to him made me feel better. I put the pen to the paper, only slightly worried about when Gabe was supposed to be home.

  Kip,

  I hope you’re well. You not being able to write me back has been a little tough, I admit it, but I just have to keep telling myself it’s all for the best. I can’t have you at risk, for any reason.

  Things are still going alright here, and I know it’s only been a couple of weeks since my last letter, but I just needed to put my thoughts on paper. It only made sense to kill two birds with one stone and write to you again.

  I’m worried about Gabe. He’s been coming up with some pretty insane ideas, and I don’t know exactly how to handle them. He wants to do things that could potentially put us back in danger. I feel safer right now than I have in months, but he seems to think making some more changes would be best for us.

  I know you have no idea what I’m talking about, but the main idea is I’m torn. I don’t know if I should go with my gut or go along with Gabe to keep him at ease. He gets a little out of hand when he doesn’t get his way.

  I’ll just have to sit down, think about it, and see what happens. Don’t worry; I’ll let you know how it all goes.

  I love you,

  Jamie

  I quickly signed the letter, folded it, and slid it into the pocket of my jeans, happy Gabe hadn’t walked into the room unexpected.

  As if on cue, Gabe opened the door and walked into the apartment, closing the door and raising his middle finger to the wall.

  “I’m guessing Geet’s still on watch outside.”

  “He is,” Gabe answered. “And he’s acting weird.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Gabe paused for a second, thinking. “He stopped me as I was unlocking the door, and he asked me if I had anything I wanted to tell him.”

  I agreed with Gabe. That was weird, even by Geet’s standards.

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  “I didn’t say anything. I ignored him.”

  “Well, do you think he’s suspicious of us?”

  As part of our plan to have some getaway money after killing Harrison, Gabe and I had been shorting what we turned in as our Manic sales. Since the party, the two of us had made a little over forty thousand dollars combined, and had been pocketing one hundred dollars from each sale. It was a slow process, but in a week, Gabe and I had withheld five thousand dollars from Harrison. The plan was to do the same thing in the week leading up to our confrontation at the factory, making our “rainy day fund” about ten thousand dollars.

  Gabe grunted, “I see how he could be. I mean, one hundred dollars adds up pretty quick. It won’t take them long to figure it out if they haven’t already.”

  “You sound worried,” I said.

  “Of course I’m worried. We have seven days left. We just have to keep Geet off our backs for seven days, then we can be rid of this whole situation.” Gabe was pacing, stroking his chin as if convincing himself instead of me.

  “I guess this is as good a time as any to bring this up,” I began. “Maybe it’s not worth it.”

  Gabe stopped in his tracks and glanced up at me. His stare was icy, and his hair hung around his face, reminding me of how crazy he had looked at times back in Hastings. “What are you saying?”

  I hesitated. “I’m just saying we don’t really have it all that bad right now. We may not have the best boss in the world, but we get everything we need provided to us. This apartment, all our clothes, all our food; Harrison provides it all to us, and now we really are stealing from him.”

  Gabe walked closer to me, holding up his hands, showing his newly unbandaged hands. “Look at me, Jamie. I refuse to answer a few of my brother’s questions—Harrison’s questions, and I get tortured. I still have bruises on my face! I just took the bandages off my hands this morning!”

  I instinctively took a step back, not sure if Gabe realized he was coming towards me, and said, “I know what happened to you was terrible, but look at the bigger picture, Gabe.”

  “What bigger picture?”

  “We can’t keep running our whole lives. We ran from Hastings because we felt like we didn’t have a choice. Now, we want to do the whole thing all over again. We want to run away when that’s not our only option. And, on top of that, you want to kill a man and steal his money in the process.”

  Gabe’s face burned red. “He stole from us first! And what we’re taking from him is only a fraction of what he took from us! He stole our lives, Jamie!”

  “That is the most kindergarten logic I’ve heard in my life. He took our money and made us flee town, so now you want to literally end his life.”

  Gabe marched toward the kitchen and slammed his fist into the marble countertop, and part of me knew he did it only to keep from slamming his fist into me. He was throwing a tantrum, because I didn’t agree with his ideas. When things didn’t go Gabe’s way, the world had to pay.

  “He deserves this,” Gabe said almost quietly.

  “Have you ever stopped to think maybe we deserve this, too?” I asked.

  “We aren’t half as bad as Harrison is.”

  “But we’re getting there,” I said. “Fuchsia doesn’t think it’s a good idea either.”

  I could see Gabe getting angrier by the second. At the mention of Fuchsia’s name, he spun towards me, giving me the vilest glare he could muster. He hated me right then, because I was trying to talk some sense into him.

  “You told her the plan?” he asked.

  “She’s a part of this, too,” I said. “What did you think, we were going to kill Harrison, run away, and just abandon her here, like we did in Weed?”

  “Don’t pretend to care about her now that it’s convenient,” Gabe spat.

  His words struck a nerve much like mine had with him. Gabe knew as well as I did my feelings for Fuchsia were confusing, but to insist I didn’t care for her at all was insulting and completely untrue.

  “I do care.”

  “No, you don’t care about her, Jamie. Fuchsia is nothing but a means to an end for you. She’s a warm body to hold at night, but you’ll never feel anything for her more than
necessity. And do you know why? She’s not Riley.”

  I saw red briefly. “Don’t you dare say her name like you know anything my situation.”

  “Why not? We’re being honest with our feelings, aren’t we?” Gabe said matter-of-factly.

  “I do care for her, Gabe. Fuchsia is a great woman, and she doesn’t deserve to be kept in the dark about something like this. If we leave Chicago, we’re taking her with us if she wants to go. She’s not going to get involved in something she doesn’t understand and end up dead.”

  “Like Ford?”

  Another nerve had been struck.

  “Exactly like Ford,” I answered.

  Gabe laughed maniacally, smiling at me as if he had somehow just won the argument. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter he had punched minutes before.

  “Why does someone dying always have to be the answer for you?” I asked.

  “Because, when it comes to what we do, someone always dies, and the way I see it, better anyone else than me,” he answered honestly.

  “You always have to be in control, don’t you?”

  Gabe smirked again. “I enjoy it, yes.”

  “And you just can’t handle it when things don’t go your way. Things went south in Hastings, so we blew town. Bad shit caught up to us in California, so we left again. Now, Chicago isn’t what you thought it would be, so you want to cause a little more chaos and start over one more time. How many times are we going hit the reset button, Gabe?”

  “If we stay, Harrison is going to kill us. I told you that.”

  “But we’re still alive. We’re bringing Harrison in forty thousand dollars each week. That’s more than either of my parents make in a year. Have you ever thought maybe he sees how good we are and might want to keep us around?”

  “Do you really want to take that risk?”

  I turned to leave the apartment, needing desperately to catch my breath and organize my thoughts. I had always known this day would come, but never thought it would happen so abruptly. Gabe was dangerous, I had always known that, but his attitude towards killing Harrison and having everything go his way was becoming more frightening by the minute. If I stayed, I knew he would eventually end up taking a swing at me.

  “Where are you going?” he shouted.

  “I have to go,” I said. “And I just want you to know you’re not as in control as you think you are. There are things about me you don’t know, and if you did, you’d realize just how little control you’ve had over me this whole time.”

  As I placed my hand on the doorknob to leave, Gabe laughed at me, following me towards the door. “Then who is?” he asked. “Because it’s definitely not you.”

  I held my breath momentarily, but decided to let loose. Without turning around, I said, “I’ve been communicating with my little brother since we left Hastings. We’ve been writing letters back and forth for over a year, and you never knew.”

  “You’re lying,” Gabe said. “Even you’re not stupid enough to put us in that much danger.”

  I hastily pulled the folded letter from my jeans and held it up for him to see, still without turning around. I didn’t want to see the look on his face, though I could easily imagine it. I just hoped he wouldn’t attack me right then and there for what I had been doing.

  “You stupid, lying bastard,” Gabe breathed, disbelief clear in his voice.

  “Still think you’re running the show?” I asked.

  “They’re better off without you.”

  I heard the statement, but couldn’t function enough to react at first. Lava flowed through my veins as what Gabe had said registered in my brain, and I suddenly lost control of myself. I spun to face him, panting angrily. He smirked, knowing he had said just the right thing to get my attention.

  And I lunged at him.

  I was on top of him before I could even realize what was happening. I was no longer in control of my hands; they had been taken over by something deep, dark, and primal inside me. I punched Gabe in the face repeatedly as he tried to wrestle me off, but I had become stronger than I ever knew possible. I was an avalanche, burying Gabe deeper in the snow with every swing.

  He coughed, blood spraying from his mouth.

  I thought back to the brawl we had had back on the interstate in California. Then, Gabe had let me beat the shit out of him as a kind of repayment for the way he had treated me, or perhaps as a way to get me to do what he wanted, but this time, I was in complete control. He was barely fighting back because I wouldn’t allow it.

  Without even realizing, I stopped punching him and slid my hands to his throat, squeezing as tight as I could.

  Gabe’s arms flailed to my left and right, but never actually made contact with me. He struggled beneath my weight, but couldn’t seem to move me. As each second passed, my grip became tighter, and Gabe’s attempts of escape grew weaker.

  “Jamie!” he managed to gurgle, but I squeezed tighter. If there was anything I wanted to gain from choking Gabe, it was for him to keep his mouth shut for once in his life.

  His legs kicked. His left shoe flew off and skidded across the floor. His face turned blue.

  I felt the hands gripping my shoulders, but didn’t react as Geet pulled me off of Gabe. He flung me across the floor like I was an old sock and leaned over Gabe, who was still conscious, but barely.

  I lied on the floor, panting and drenched with sweat, watching as Geet helped Gabe get to a sitting position, patting his younger brother on the back. The situation seemed dire, but I could see Geet chuckling as Gabe struggled to regain his composure. He was shaking, and at this I smirked.

  “I swear,” Geet laughed. “You two are just like brothers. It reminds me of the good ole days when you and I used to fight like that.”

  Neither of us responded.

  Geet stood and held out his hand for Gabe to take, pulling him to his feet as well.

  I stayed on the floor, still panting, still covered in sweat.

  “He’s fucking insane,” Gabe managed to say, his voice raspy.

  “I guess you’d know,” I growled.

  Geet rolled his eyes. “Well, if the two of you are over this little squabble, Harrison asked me to relay some information to you.”

  “What kind of information?” I asked, climbing to my feet, using the countertop as support.

  “Well, inventory reports compared to the cash you’ve been turning in seems to show the two of you are shorting Harrison quite a bit of money. Five thousand dollars, to be exact. You’ve got twenty-four hours to get your shit together. I’ll be stopping by tomorrow to collect the money you owe.”

  Without another word, without asking if Gabe was alright, Geet waltzed out of the apartment, leaving the two of us to figure out what our next move would be.

  (Cataclysmic Choices)