Dark Guardian

by Ammar Habib

  His shoulder had been bandaged up and the bleeding had long stopped. But he still couldn’t use his arm and it was now in a cast. The hooded man had cut some sort of nerve or muscle; Victor hadn’t paid attention to what the doctor had said. His stomach was stitched up, but it was too painful to sit up.

  He could hear the methodical beeps coming from a machine to his left as it read it pulse. He had been hearing it for so long that he did not even notice the sound anymore. He closed his eyes, expecting himself to go back into a deep sleep while his injuries slowly healed.

  In all his years, Victor had never seen somebody move like that. He had almost stopped him from slicing open the editor’s neck. That had been too close for comfort. He had been informed that the hooded man had received several gunshot wounds just two days ago. How could somebody move like that two days after being shot?

  Unless it was not a man.

  The thought made sense, but Victor was not one to believe in ghost stories. He opened his eyes as he heard the sound of the door slowly opening. He turned his eyes towards the entrance and looked up at Police Chief Richard Dawson. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

  Richard came to the bed and took a seat on the chair next to it. “I take it that you were successful.”

  He nodded. “Assuming that the device you gave us really works.”

  “The tracker worked. The perfume was sprayed on Carl before we sent him to you. When the hooded man touched the body, the perfume got on him too. We were able to track him.”

  “But only for an hour after he left.” Victor looked away. “I’d assume that he would not go straight back home.”

  “No. He dumped the body of the editor first. The tracker expired before he reached his headquarters.” Richard paused for a moment. “But we know what part of town he’s camping in.”

  A sinister smile came onto Victor’s face. “Indulge me.”

  “Near the docks. It makes sense since nobody lives there. It’s completely deserted.”

  “So now what?”

  “Now…now the hunter becomes the hunted.”

  Chapter 19

  The Right Thing

  The door to the rooftop opened and William walked through it. It was a cold night. The stars were fully visible. The sounds of the street could still be heard, but by the time the echoes reached this high, they had mostly died out. A few birds were perched on the railing of the rooftop, but they immediately flew away upon sensing William’s presence.

  William closed the door behind him. Standing with his back to William was the masked vigilante. He seemed to be looking into the distance as if he was hoping to see somebody. If William was not mistaken, his eyes were fixed in the direction of a wealthy neighborhood.

  The reporter began to slowly close the distance between the two of them. “Looking for someone?”

  The masked man slowly turned. “You’re late.”

  “You gave me a short notice.” William stopped moving, now only a few yards away from his counterpart. “You should know that I’m out of a job now because of you, along with hundreds of other tax-paying citizens. They’ve shut down the Times for good.”

  “Your secret is safe. The police don’t know that it was you.”

  Those words lifted a heavy burden from William’s heart. “I take it you freed Carl.”

  The masked man nodded.

  “Where is he?”

  “Dead.”

  The word was spoken unsympathetically and without any remorse. A few seconds passed before it finally sunk into William’s mind. And it was a few more seconds before he was able to say anything. “…what?”

  The hooded man did not respond.

  William stared into the stoic, unchanging mask for what felt like a long time, unable to believe what he had just heard. “…and his body?”

  “It’s been disposed of.”

  His hand slowly curled into a fist as his eyes filled with rage. Disposed of? What did that mean? Was it lying at the bottom of some river or in a heap of trash in some dumpster? “What the hell does that mean!?”

  There was no reply.

  “How could you let that happen?”

  “I’m not the one who killed him.”

  William suddenly and violently pointed his finger at his contact. “You’re the one who was supposed to save him!”

  “I promised to keep you safe. Nothing else.”

  Every time he spoke in that cold voice, it did nothing but increase William’s rage. “He was a friend.”

  “Then he died being a good friend.”

  “This wasn’t his fight, you—!”

  “You knew there would be casualties. You’ve been a soldier. You’ve lost men before. I’ve read about you. You were the head of a Special Forces team. Half of your team was killed in your last mission. This isn’t your first time to lose a soldier.”

  “He wasn’t a damn soldier! This was not his fight.”

  “You brought him into it.”

  “You brought me into this madness. It’s because of you he’s dead! It’s because of you all those people were hurt by the cops! You’ve been manipulating me from the start. Everything that I’ve done, you tricked me into doing!”

  “I put the two paths in front of you. In the end, it was you who decided to join me. And it was your friend who decided to protect you. His death was his own fault.”

  William was silent as his body shook with rage. He slowly lowered his finger and let his hand come back to his side. Angrily, he looked at the masked man who stood stoically before him. He did not know whether this man was telling the truth or continuing to manipulate his every move. “And now his wife will never get to see her husband’s dead body.”

  “She wouldn’t want to.”

  William looked at the ground as his hands went into either pocket of his jacket. He took a deep breath and let it out. No matter how angry he was, he knew nothing he could bring his friend back. After a few seconds he looked back up. “Did you kill the person responsible?”

  “Not yet.”

  “For once, I’m sorry to hear that…so what now?”

  The masked man’s hand emerged out from behind his cape. Between his index and middle fingers he held a dark red memory chip. William looked down at it, but the masked man’s eyes stayed on the reporter. “On this is evidence that undeniably incriminates the mayor for several murders.”

  William looked back up at the face of his contact. “And you expect me to get it published? Probably using a different newspaper this time? Things didn’t work out last time I tried doing something like this for you.”

  “One of the murders is that of your wife.”

  William’s eyes widened.

  “She was at the wrong place at the wrong time. She was killed when the mayor sent the police to rough up a businessman who was going to surface with information that could have ruined his political career.”

  William could not reply as he blankly stared at his counterpart.

  “I trust you’ll use the information wisely. Everyone directly or indirectly responsible for her death can be brought to justice with this one way or another.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the chip towards the reporter and William caught it with both hands. He looked down at what he was hearing before looking up at the person who had given him this. “A―are you sure this is true?”

  “See for yourself.”

  The masked man turned around and looked as if he was preparing to leave, but William suddenly stopped him with a shout. “Wait! Who was the officer responsible for her death?”

  “You’ve already met him. Shaun O’Hara.”

  The reporter’s eyes widened upon hearing the name of the cop he had struck at the Times’ office only yesterday. William took a step back as he looked back down at the chip in his hands. He was holding the key to all the answers he had been searching for. He was holding the key to get the justice he had never stopped believing in. He was holding the key to giving his heart the
peace it had long forgotten.

  “If you get tired of using the legal route, there’s a gun in your car.” The hooded man looked straight ahead again and all William could see was the back of his hood. “It was a brave thing you did; protecting the girl from him.”

  William was about to ask how he knew that, but held his tongue.

  “Your friend died bravely. He wouldn’t give you up. You can tell his wife that. And…and your wife was brave. She died courageously. Your family died doing the right thing…if there is such a thing.”

  ***

  With his hands in his pockets, Brett exited through the revolving doors and came onto the sidewalk. It was a windless but chilly night. He stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket, trying to keep them warm. He looked either way and saw numerous pedestrians walking along the street. This was one of the few parts of town that was safe to be roaming about this time of night.

  Slowly, he lifted his gaze and looked up at the clear, starry night. It seemed like ages since he had spent a few minutes enjoying the beauty of the night sky. The beauty of all those perfect stars just hanging up in the heavens as if they were ornaments.

  It was something he and his late wife used to together.

  He wondered if she was up there looking down on him. Looking down on her two sons. He knew that if she was seeing this, she would be disappointed in him. For everything.

  Brett reluctantly tore his gaze away from the heavens and back to the street as he slowly shook his head. He had spent the past few days gaining the courage to come here. Ever since Jonathan had come to the bar looking for him, he had been trying to find the guts to do this.

  But when he finally did come, he arrived at an empty house. Ethan was gone and Brett had no idea when he would be back. If it had been anyone else, Brett would have laughed at the irony. But this was not something to laugh about. It only made him man feel worse.

  As he walked down the sidewalk, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. He wondered where Ethan could be at this time of night. Maybe he was out of town on business or something. He probably had a lot of duties to tend to.

  Brett knew that there was a bar not too far from here. It was easily in walking distance. He was half tempted to go there for a quick drink, but something stopped him. Ever since Jonathan and he had that talk something had happened to Brett, something that he never thought possible.

  He lost all desire for alcohol.

  ***

  Under beautiful blue sky, the roofless yellow Lamborghini smoothly navigated the empty highway. The bright sun was nearing its peak now and a few clouds carelessly drifted about.

  Wearing a pair of black sunglasses, Ethan sat in the jet black leather driver’s seat. He wore a smile on his freshly shaven face as he kept one hand on the steering wheel and his other on the armrest. His short, black hair had been recently trimmed.

  Next to him, Katrina’s long black hair blew in the wind. She was wearing a long sleeved, light brown tunic and a pair of white Capri pants. She was standing straight up with her arms outstretched and her left hand was right above Ethan’s head. She was wearing a pair of golden sunglasses as she looked straight up at the sky. A perfect smile was stretched across her face and she laughed with joy.

  To either side of them was luscious green grass. Numerous trees were sprouted throughout the open fields. Some of them had been here for ages while others had only been around for a few years. Flowers of every color and size bloomed in the meadow and seemed to be dancing in the wind. Countless birds could be seen carelessly flying from one tree to the other. The whole scene seemed to have come right out of a painting. Ethan watched Katrina enjoy herself. She was glowing in the sunlight.

  He let the Lamborghini gracefully cruise down the smooth road, not wanting to ruin her fun. Finally, she slowly came down onto her seat. She leaned back against the headrest as one arm went behind her head and the other went next to Ethan’s on the armrest. She looked over at Ethan with a smile as he spoke. “You enjoy yourself?”

  “You should try it sometime.”

  “I’ll stick to watching you.” Ethan looked back on the road. “You know, I haven’t been to Swan Park in years. Not since the last time we went with David and Boris.”

  Katrina ran her hand through her hair as she spoke. “Really? That was years ago.”

  “Five years and ninety-seven days ago.” Ethan looked over at her with a sly smirk. “Or something like that.”

  She shook her head with a slight laugh.

  As they came to a fork in the road, Ethan turned the car to the right, entering the park. The vehicle travelled under a large, green sign with the words “Swan Park” painted in white. The words had begun to fade, but could still easily be read.

  Minutes later, Ethan parked the car in the nearly empty parking lot and the two of them headed towards the base of a tall tree perched at the top of a hill. Ethan carried the heavy picnic basket in his left hand. It felt like Katrina had packed an entire feast in there.

  The tree was the same place they had eaten under their last time here. He was surprised that she had remembered the spot. It looked exactly the same, as if it was only yesterday that they were here. It’s thick, sturdy trunk had seen many storms but had never given in. Its countless branches were covered with leaves and supplied more than enough shade to protect the two of them from the sun.

  To their far left were two small lakes. Like the name of the park suggested, a few beautiful swans gracefully made their way across the waters. Connecting the two lakes was a shallow stream with a red bridge over it. On the edges of the lakes were numerous parents and children as they took pictures of the swans.

  Arriving under the tree’s shade, Ethan set the basket down and let her pull out a few of the contents. Within a matter of moments, she had spread out the red and white picnic blanket. On top of it she placed a large plastic container that contained several freshly made sandwiches. A stack of two plates was put next to the container along with a tall jug of yellow lemonade. A few lemon peels could be seen floating in the drink. Katrina reached back into the basket with both hands and pulled out a stack of napkins and two plastic blue cups.

  Setting everything the way she wanted it, she looked up at Ethan with a smile, apparently proud of her work. His eyes scanned everything before he looked back at her. “It felt like there was more food in there.”

  “Well, I tried to make some coleslaw and a potato salad…but they didn’t turn out too well.”

  Ethan took a seat next to her on the blanket. “Well, you know what they say. It’s the thought that counts.”

  She jokingly slapped his chest with the back of her hand. “Shut up, Ethan.”

  He let out a quick chuckle as he took off his sunglasses and hat before replying, “You know, you could’ve just told me you still don’t know how to cook. I would have just ordered some pizza.”

  She laughed as she shook her head. “Just so you know, I’ve been told that my cooking has improved greatly.”

  “And yet here we are eating cold sandwiches.”

  “At least I can make something!”

  “Like David always said, why cook when you can just pay somebody to do it?”

  ***

  The next half hour passed in idle conversation. Ethan couldn’t get his mind off how gorgeous Katrina looked today. It seemed like every time he saw her, she grew more beautiful. He wasn’t sure how this was possible.

  Before he knew it, Ethan had a plate in his lap and a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. Resting a foot away was a nearly empty glass of lemonade. He noticed Katrina had barely even taken a bite of her food. She was intently staring at him, but looked away when his gaze fell upon her.

  Setting his sandwich down, he spoke. “You know, Katrina, it’s never a good sign when the chef isn’t eating the food.”

  She smiled. “I’m not hungry.” She noticed that his cup was almost empty. “Do you want more lemonade?”

  “I’m fine…something
you want to talk about?”

  She looked away for half a second before her gaze fell back on him. She wasn’t smiling anymore. “Actually…there is. There was an article in the paper this morning about you.”

  Ethan leaned back on his elbows. “Another one? They just can’t get enough of me.”

  “It was about how you fired your staff. Your cook gave an interview.”

  “I’m not surprised. What did he say?”

  “…That you’re crazy.”

  “Probably said I should be put in a mental institution?”

  She looked away. “Something like that.”

  Ethan looked at his plate. “Well…good riddance.”

  Katrina’s gaze came back onto him, but his eyes were still fixed on the plate. “Why did you let them go? I thought Marion is a good friend.”

  “She was a good friend. But I guess things changed. She hasn’t been the same since I’ve gotten back…or maybe I’m not the same.” He looked over at her. “I don’t know. But they were both doing more harm than good for me. So I decided that it’s better to let them go now rather than later. Of course Emanuel goes and starts yapping his mouth about it.”

  There was a short silence. “I heard Charles hired them to work at his home.”

  “That’s Charles for you. Always being the nice guy.”

  “Hopefully things work out.”

  Ethan nodded. “I’m surprised anyone even ran a story about me. All people seem to be talking about these days is that lunatic who’s been going around killing cops.”

  Katrina slightly shrugged. “I don’t think he’s crazy.”

  “He’s killed almost thirty people in one week, Katrina.”

  “He saved the lives of two women. Did you read about that?”

  Ethan shook his head. “Don’t really read the paper that much.”

  “Well one of the ladies he saved called him an ‘angel’. The other lady called him a ‘guardian’.”

  After a few seconds, Ethan spoke. “And who were these women?”

  “I don’t know. They were anonymous.”