Why just the other day Kevin was enjoying a breakfast of home fries, scrambled eggs, and fresh ham steak when he noticed two good ol’ boys standing in the front parking lot holding weapons. One an AR-15 style assault rifle, the other a compound hunting bow, equipped with a four pack of razor tipped arrows right near the grip. Kevin, startled for an instant, slung his backpack under the table and obtained his compact Kimber 1911, before realizing he had done so. The pistol was in his hand, and his thumb ready to disengage the safety, when he remembered where he was and who he was - at least to the folks at the Cracker Barrel restaurant. The boys outside were hunters. They were young and innocent, proud of their gear and quick to show it off to one another. Kevin replaced his own weapon slow and easy.
A brief scan of the room proved no one in the restaurant had witnessed his draw stroke. Kevin smiled at the immediate reaction he’d had to this perceived threat. Try grabassing those weapons in a parking lot anywhere in California or New York and see how the next several minutes go down. “Indiana,” he said under his breath, “gotta love it.”
It wasn’t always bad. When the season was dry, which meant he wasn’t killing on an every other week basis, Kevin actually enjoyed his life. He was free to travel, free to wake when he wanted, sleep when he wanted, and do all of the things most people have to wait for the weekends to do. It had been almost two months since his last engagement. He was delighted with his present circumstance. He wasn’t a fool however. Kevin understood, sooner or later the call would once again come, and once again he would be given an order to violate the law, both men and God’s.
Kevin was a realist, as real as they came. He took the good when the good was before him. It was deepening autumn, Kevin’s favorite time of year in this part of the world. The leaves had turned, and all around him were the red and ambers and oranges of richest fall. Kevin turned his Jeep into the state owned Turkey Run Park. It was midweek and the park was nearly his alone. It was midmorning and the weather was perfect. A cold snap at night left the ground beneath him crunchy, and the air was alive with moisture and blessed chill.
Kevin wasn’t keen on the heat, and humidity made his ever quiet disposition groan with despair. This, however, this was ideal. Kevin no longer needed a map of the trails. He had visited the park so many times it felt like home. He supposed it reminded him of the backwoods of his grandfather’s ranch back in California. He walked, hiked, and ran the trails here, all the while allowing his mind to roam freely, to seek out and take pleasure in the memories of a past where nothing bad came to call, especially him. He thought of his friend Peter, his grandfather, and his mom and brother. Sometimes Will would sneak in there as well.
Often times, however, the memories of Will were too closely related to the jobs he carried out, so often he would push those thoughts aside and choose to run as a free man.
Much of the most desolate trails were under a layer of mud and water. Kevin didn’t mind a bit. It was liberating, fun in a childish way to stomp the puddles with fleet feet, traversing the landscape like a modern day Hawkeye. Kevin knew from past trials he had been humping and sloshing around now for several hours. He stopped and shrugged loose his daypack. Under a landscape of freedom, Kevin munched an apple and poured small handfuls of raw almonds into his mouth. He could have been anywhere in the world at any given time in history, so complete was the isolation and wilderness that surrounded him. Several long, slow pulls of water and he was back at it. He breathed the air, so crisp and thick with life you could drink it. It had been a good morning.
Kevin was seated in the last row of the Indiana Theater. It was a throwback to the fifties, or perhaps not a throwback at all, just built in that time period and maintained without all the hoopla and fanfare of modern comforts. Kevin felt the vibration on his belt. It meant only one thing, back to reality.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kevin had been watching the subject for three days. He was a careful man. He had lights turned on in front of his home during darkness, and parked his car in the garage when not in use. He looked over his shoulder and checked his surroundings before leaving his front door. Kevin respected the diligence of awareness. The man had no vices, wasn’t an enthusiast of anything as far as he could tell.
He drove straight to his office, ate lunch at his desk, then come the end of the day he drove straight home and parked in the garage. He wouldn’t leave again until the following morning.
Killing a man in his home comes with risks and disadvantages. This wasn’t the movies where the bad guy knows the layout better than the homeowner himself, or simply finds an undetectable way into the home and sits comfortably in the man’s favorite chair until said man arrives, ready to be shot upon entry, after a few cool obscure references about life and death and getting what’s coming from the bad guy of course. This was real. And in the real world the man sometimes owns a gun, or a German Sheppard, or has a panic room set up and a way to fry you before you can make your way back out. No, killing a man in his own home sucks.
Kevin was getting antsy. His nerves were possibly not what they used to be. Almost eight years of ending existence can do that to a person. Fuck and fuck and fuck again, he thought. It was midnight. Kevin was once again set up in a place not visible to many, to no one he hoped. He was sick of it, so sick. His head was beginning to throb, and his stomach was turning. He wanted out of here, wanted to disappear altogether, go home and crash out in front of the television and pretend he delivered pizza for a living. Kevin decided against it once more. He drove to his hotel and spent the night tossing and turning, wishing for a different outcome upon waking.
His resolve was shattered on the fifth day. Exhausted by the man’s unbendable schedule, Kevin disregarded his general rule and broke into the man’s home. Kevin had jogged the neighborhood three out of the five days. It was clear that in this neighborhood people worked for a living. It was upper middle class, business people with mortgages to pay and places to get to.
As far as Kevin could tell, there was no old Mrs. Jones setting up shop directly across the way watering her azaleas for four hours at a go.
Kevin had made hopping the back fence a part of the jog this morning. He was up and over in a skip’s toss. The place was pet less and that was a good start. Kevin found entry easy enough through a back bedroom slider. A quick pry of the screen, and push and shove on the window, and he was in. Kevin’s heart hammered without direct need. The place was empty, just as he knew it should be.
That didn’t prevent Kevin from checking every inch of it, to include garage and cabinets. Kevin was dressed in running gear, black track pants, well-worn Asics, and a dark grey hoodie. His Glock 19 was secured to his right hip by a snug belt under the waistline. Kevin was very mobile in this get up. He was well past annoyed knowing he would be sitting here for the better part of six hours. Kevin tried to relax as he made no permanent impression on his new surroundings. Kevin set up by the interior garage door. For his part, it was all over except for the crying.
Kevin was bemused when five-thirty came and went without any sign of his target. Well that just figures, doesn’t it? I mean four days of Rolex like timing, and today, of all the days he decides to stop off at the do-drop-inn for some pancakes. Christ.
Kevin heard the hum and clatter of the electric garage door traveling along its predetermined path. He heard the man’s Buick engine quietly accelerate and the final stage when the key turned left to signal its mission was past. A heartbeat of time and this would all be over. Kevin waited just inside the door. Just inside and to the right. When he walked in it would be quick and it would be quiet. He wouldn’t let him suffer; he never did if he could help it.
No matter what they had done to deserve this absolute final judgment by his government, it wasn’t Kevin’s business to punish or torture.
There were others in place for that kind of shit, he was sure. For Kevin’s part it was just a job. He didn’t know why and to this point never considered asking.
Mind empt
y, body relaxed, all to come all to pass. The man didn’t ever have to wonder what had happened to him, it was over that fast. Kevin put the silenced pistol near the man’s temple and fired once. It was over in less than a second. Kevin lowered his weapon and was in the process of removing the suppressor when a second subject entered the room. He was maybe seven, perhaps eight years old. The man had a son.
Kevin’s mind was empty no more. The child stood there, Kevin was sure, trying to process what he was seeing. Kevin had made the ultimate mistake, and now he was left with a horrific question to answer.
Kevin fled from the house while the child was still in shock. He’d left him there with a dead man at his feet, no, not a dead man, his father.
How much would he remember about him? What would he tell the police when they were eventually called to the scene? How screwed up would that boy be for the remainder of his life thanks to Kevin? Kevin ran only as far as he had to. His rental was not far, and darkness was everywhere. What had he done? What had he been doing?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kevin woke with a start, a gun in his hand.
Will was seated in a chair opposite him. He had been silently reading up to this point.
“Will, what are you doing here?” Kevin’s voice was not his normal pitch. His ordinary sleep pattern was consistently shallow; however, for nights now since the last job he had been self-medicating with heavy doses of Nyquil.
“I’m watching you,” Will said without challenge, as if he’d done this every morning.
“Why? What? I haven‘t heard from you since--”
“You gave us a bit of a scare when you didn’t answer the pages Kevin.” Will remained seated, studying his brightest pupil.
Kevin nodded his head thick with cold medicine.
“Why didn’t you answer the pages son?”
“Because I’m done” Kevin put down the gun, rubbed his head from both sides.
“You forget who you work for, son? They don’t often accept resignation letters in this line of work.”
“Leave me alone, Will. Go back to where you came from, I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll help you, son.”
“Help, help me do what? Kill some more, live with it? Done man, all done.”
Will stood, turned, and then turned back, “You were designed to do what you do!”
“YOU MADE ME THIS!” Kevin screamed.
Will ignored the emotional response, remained steady. “I might have slapped a coat of paint on you, made you road ready, something else created you.’
“You ruined me.” Kevin’s voice softened.
“You believe you’re the only one who bares this burden? Carries this particular cross?”
“You did this, Will, you---” Kevin’s words were failing, he cried somewhere inside.
Will stared at Kevin while unbuttoning and removing his shirt. Pot marks, thickened skin, scribbles of discolored flesh, all the paintings of war.
“Kosovo, Beirut, Afghanistan, you think I don’t see their faces, son? Hear them at night when I’m alone?”
“Why?” Kevin was in the middle of a soul’s parting.
“We kill what needs to be killed! You think you’re eliminating school teachers, doctors? ---- Terrorists Kevin… Monsters! ---- You, me, we protect those who cannot protect themselves!
Will had never married.
Will had no children.
Will fostered a relationship with himself and counted on no one else.
Will looked upon the thing which he had created. It was seated, bent, sobbing.
Will thought of the boy’s father, the brave sniper from so long ago which he owed his very life to. Will’s heart never lent to the frailty’s of others. His was the ocean uncharted, the island left to itself as much out of loss as circumstance. It had been to this point--- unreachable.
Will pushed out a breath.
His hand found the top of Kevin’s head.
The cables which enclosed Kevin’s already teetering bearing snapped. He hugged Will’s waist as a small child would and let it go. Finally, Kevin let it all go.
Sanity
After several months spent back at base by Will’s side, Kevin really was finished. It had been a process. Mostly talking, Will’s take on things, Will’s point of view mixed with Kevin’s. Kevin wouldn’t have opened his wounds to another. No doctor could appreciate Kevin’s particular brand of trauma, but Will could. In the end he was mostly healed, mostly repaired, mostly.
Will explained the operation in charge of Kevin’s assignments never expected him to last longer than two, possibly three years. The fact he made it eight was incredible. Kevin’s background while enlisted was sealed. His truth would never be revealed.
Kevin asked if there were more like him, more Will had trained, but Will wouldn’t comment. Kevin knew there must have been.
Upon Kevin’s discharge, the DD-214 was stamped Honorable. The background given with it was of a Marine who saw combat with an Infantry unit, had performed flawlessly as a sniper, and had spent the rest of his tour in security forces running errands for a two-star general. Kevin committed the false memories to heart as his days as a Marine came to a close. Kevin still had his inheritance to make a new life with. He left Will with a handshake and a promise to keep in touch. Kevin didn’t believe that would be necessary, Will could always find him, of that he was sure. Will watched as Kevin drove away, again memories of the man who saved his life in a jungle long ago. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t tell Kevin the story of his father, the secrets of men.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kevin stocked his Jeep full of the items necessary to survive for at least a month. He traveled the familiar path to the only place that ever truly felt like home.
He found the old steel and wood gate as he had left it.
Nothing had changed. Some overgrowth, some fields high with vegetation that was all. His world, the one left behind was dark, ugly, troubled. This place was none of those things. He drove the drive that filled his heart with good. His breathing was better, his mind clearer, his focus omniscient.
The house looked as it always had: big, rugged, capable.
He unlocked the front door and walked around. Everything was the same. The windows were intact, the firewood stacked neatly by the fireplace, the woodland creatures in the woods where they belonged.
For the first day, Kevin busied himself with putting away his supplies, chopping more firewood, and building a pull-up bar.
The trails through the woods would suffice for cardio, and the wood splitting and carrying of heavy items would take care of the unused muscle. Will had always maintained the pull-up was the most important upper body exercise. Kevin was capable of many pull-ups thanks to Will.
Kevin had enough money to live for years, the rest of his life if he spent wisely. His grandfather had seen to that. In his final days as a Marine, or his version of one, Kevin had considered the choices bore by young men.
He was nearing his 28th birthday. He had a full life yet to live.
Will had helped Kevin make right the wrong which he believed he’d done. Kevin had never known the true story of any of those he had eliminated, except for one.
The last man, the one Kevin believed a father, leaving a son to view his demise, bathe his young and rapidly forming psyche with blood, had not been a father at all.
He had been a monster, and the seven- year-old boy who had wandered into the house to find them had been Daniel Lee Hibley, recent abduction case reported several hours before the discovery of the man’s remains. The man, it turned out, had been doing this for quite some time. Upon his death (extermination), his house had been searched, and evidence collected linked him to five separate cases of kidnapping, rape, and murder. The boy, Hibley, owed his life to Kevin. Will didn’t go any further into what association the man had had with the United States government. What Will was allowed to reveal, Kevin could have discovered on the news. Kevin didn’t watch much television. In the paper’s he’d r
ead where the boy had described the man with the gun, the one who ran from the house, as the biggest, scariest man he’d ever seen. Kevin guessed he was.
Kevin had skill sets few possess, and a garbage can full of memories no one would want. He looked at the vocations in line with his mindset, training and philosophy. The choice wasn’t a hard one. After a few months, and a life without a body count, Kevin enrolled in the police academy. During his training, he applied with the Police Department in the town he grew up in. It was hardly the same town and for that matter, he was hardly the same man. Kevin had taken the written, oral, and physical exam, all while earning high marks in the academy. Kevin felt good about his chances. While awaiting the letters outlining new test dates and packets to be completed, Kevin would finish the academy and simply exist.
Over the months that followed, Kevin gained twenty solid pounds and slept better than he had in years. His life was a simple routine now, following the path he wished could have always been his, would have been his had he been smarter.
He spent his time studying for exams, running and hiking in the woods, and dining on meals he prepared. In his time away from the world, Kevin got a feeling for who he was. He decided he wasn’t that bad of a guy.
The testing process was drawn out and rightfully so. He had finished the academy top of his class, and the position he applied for six months ago, was now his.
Today was his first day on the job. He had committed the sergeant’s name to memory. He would ask for him at the front desk, and then begin his role as “new guy.”
He had all of his gear with him in a large black duffle. His uniform was neatly pressed and hanging on a wooden hanger. Sgt. Sanser was a forty something man, grey at the temples, fit and capable. He shook Kevin’s hand as men of his generation were taught to, firm, and with a full two seconds worth of eye contact. He turned and led Kevin to the locker room. Not surprised, Kevin’s locker was a long way from the door. He quickly dressed, then found the Sergeant in the hall.
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