Exponential

by JM Addison

  *

  Enrique was furious. Mostly at his own, inept behavior. How could he let this happen? Not that he was in any danger of being apprehended or charged with anything, but the simple fact that the job was not done was reason enough to feel like a complete amateur – especially for one like himself, a so called ‘expert’. A man who made his living killing. A professional. Fortunately, the wound in his neck looked worse than it really was. There was a considerable amount of bleeding, but the attack missed any important blood vessels. He probably should consider himself lucky to be alive. The puncture was deep enough to be worried about infection so he would need to get a bit of first aid to ward off any such inconvenience. Now he had more understanding for what most of his victims experienced – except he was still alive.

  Sooner or later, someone would find the furnace room door jammed shut and work to eventually let him out. He certainly looked like the victim here with blood stains on much of his clothing so he didn’t feel any worry about being accused of wrongdoing.

  He began to feel like a caged rat. He nervously paced back and forth in front of the door. It gave him time to consider his situation. As he thought about Mara, he began to feel a soft spot for her. This was highly irregular, but most of his marks were selfish flabby old men or mean spirited, arrogant bastards – never a pretty young woman. Why would they kill her mother? An old woman? Sure, he understood that they didn’t mean for her to come to any harm, but they seemed to have gone too far. Why was he even thinking about this? After all, he was mainly motivated by money. But if he let himself be totally controlled by money, then he was really no better than those he was hired to take out. So, he always felt a small bit of pride in knowing that once his targets were gone, the world was just a little better place. But not this time. He even felt sort of… guilty. Was this because he spent time with her? What was that psychological complex called when kidnappers began to have feelings for their victims? Is that what he was feeling? He should have felt hatred for her since she tried to kill him. But her assault was, after all, a desperate, self-preservation move. He would surely have done the same thing. He probably scared the living crap out of her. In fact he was, after all, trying to terrify her. Her reaction should not be surprising. In fact, her fortitude and ability to escape even left him feeling… respect for her.

  He was struggling to come to grips with these feelings. Was he finished as a hired killer? Was he starting to feel sorry for his victims? No! In fact, wasn’t the typical target really more like the ones that hired him? Yes those were people that needed to become victims. Those were the kind that would leave the world a better place once they were gone. The money for this job wasn’t that important.

  A plan began forming in his mind when he heard… voices!