by Brian Ewing
Andrick’s glorified vision of being taken out, like in an old gangster movie, had been interrupted by more grumbling in the back of the van. It sounded like the man in the back of the van was ready for a proper introduction to Andrick Wesley. It was perfect timing too, as Andrick pulled into the driveway of the one-story suburban neighborhood home. Andrick looked around and luckily, the street had very minimal foot traffic. He turned off the engine and ran into the home of the rental, using the lock pad hanging around the property door. He knew Mr. Norton was getting more coherent with each minute, so he was trying to be as quick as possible.
Andrick looked in the coat closet upon first entering the home on his left, to find nothing. He then sprinted into the garage to see if there were any tools. Void of anything of value to most, there was a leftover heap of some recent home renovations, in the corner. Andrick, in a hurry, clicked the button to raise the automated garage door. He knew it would be quicker and easier to move Norton from the van to the garage, as opposed to within the house. As the door chain pulled, rising the two-car garage door, he dug through the busted drywall. There he found a glorious piece of wood. It was probably discarded from a crack running down the center of the two-by-four. That discarded trash would suit his needs just fine.
He gripped it and ran towards the back of the van. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the handle, preparing for an alert and pissed off Norton. Pressing in the button, he swung the door open and pulling back the piece of wood in one motion. Ready to smash an upset and agitated man that may be sprinting towards him, Andrick felt a rush tickle his body. To his delight, Officer Norton was on all fours, leaning over a pile of vomit. The electricity that threw the man’s body into a hard reboot must have given him a harder time than Andrick anticipated. Andrick was cautious but analyzing the man, noticed the arms that were propping his body above the pile, were shaking.
He took a moment to assess his options. He was not comfortable getting into the back of the van, as he didn’t want to lose any leverage. He had Norton’s gun on him but didn’t want to use it, as he would prefer to choke the last fight out of the man. Shooting him would give Andrick no gratification at all. If anything, it would only give him a headache and increase the throbbing behind his neck that was steadily rising to his temples. Luckily, the police siren that was heard a minute or two before had vanquished, alerting him that wherever the patrol vehicle had intended on getting, reached its destination.
“Get out…slowly,” Andrick advised.
The man didn’t move aside from the spasmodic dry heaving he was in the middle of exerting.
“Now, please.” Andrick held a calm tone, looking around to still see no one on the street.
Norton looked up and weakly crawled to the edge of the van. Andrick thought he saw a glimmer of desperation in the man’s eyes as he was close to exiting the vehicle, causing him to grip the discarded wood a bit tighter. Norton did in fact have a plan up his sleeve. As he sat to put his feet out on the bumper of the van, he tried to use his body’s momentum to leap at Andrick. Unbeknownst to the officer, Andrick could see the man was not fully recovered or ready for such an act and simply turned to the side, resulting in Norton falling to the cold, concrete driveway. Not that Norton showed any real threat but to be safe, Andrick slammed the two-by-four down with rage. Striking across Norton’s back, pure agony spewed from the man’s face as the wood connected with the back of his ribs, spine, and left shoulder blade.
Andrick tossed the wood now that it served its purpose and removed the Glock 19 from his waistband. He pointed it at Norton as he instructed the man to not move hastily.
“Please, Mr. Norton. You seem like a really wonderful person. I would hate to leave your family in peril by not being able to identify the body.”
Norton muttered something but Andrick was unable to understand. The man looked like he was attempting to stand up. Pressing the muzzle of the gun against the space right above Luke Norton’s right ear, Andrick took his left hand and wrapped it under Norton’s right arm. Assisting the man to his feet, Andrick never let the cold metal leave the man’s skull. Andrick figured once he got Norton inside, he would clock him in the back of the head with the butt of the gun, giving him a chance to tie the man up, before savoring every moment of terror he would see on Norton’s face. The thought started to give Andrick an erection. He could not help but fantasize about the veins in the fit officer’s face start to bulge as he gasped for air.
Norton was moving slower than Andrick was comfortable with and was about to get a kick from Andrick’s size thirteen boot when a sound behind him, broke him out of his fantasy. It was the sound of a Glock, similar to the one he held in his own hand, being cocked. Before Andrick could see who was foiling his plan, he switched his positioning of Norton, putting him into a chokehold. He spun around, using Norton as a shield from whoever had the nerve to point a firearm at him. To his surprise, closing a distance from across the street and wearing no sling or knee brace, had been Tom Sisto.
“Whoa-ha-ha, look at you.” Andrick broke into a laugh at the genuine surprise the man was able to deliver to him. “You know, Mr. Sisto, you are a real enigma to me.”
“English, please,” Sisto replied.
“My apologies,” Andrick said, cool as a cucumber, while a resistant Luke Norton was fighting to break away from his muscly forearm. “What I mean is that you are not what I was expecting at all. Really, until the shootout, I was going to consider you a bonus. I didn’t realize you held any threat. I wanted to kill your friend, the real warrior in the bunch, Mr. Ackerman.”
The realization that his friend narrowly escaped Andrick’s grasp, gave Sisto a visible shutter. Getting under the man’s skin and into his mind, plastered a grin on Andrick’s face that borderline hurt.
“I am impressed with you, but this is a no-win situation on your end.” The grin slowly faded away as Andrick asked Tom Sisto his next question. “How did you find me?”
“You didn’t make it easy,” Sisto said reluctantly. “You were cold, calculated, you never messed up with any individual kills. It was the fact that you followed the same route year after year. After time, the marks added up and told a story.”
Andrick nodded, realizing Sisto was speaking the truth. Andrick knew before even starting this year’s event, that he should have opted out and taken a ride down the 101 and leave a string of bodies through California instead. Andrick was very pristine in his kills, but the urges and cravings got the best of him. He just nodded, until Norton broke through his thoughts.
“Sisto, put a bullet in this piece of shit, now.”
Andrick tightened his grip, realizing that Norton was getting more aware of the situation he was in.
“That is not a smart comment, Mr. Norton,” Andrick said, as he slid his profile behind as much of Norton as possible. It was difficult as Andrick was a good three inches taller than the man.
“You got about two minutes before a dozen officers show up here, Andy. What do you say, you let my friend go and you can live to tell your story?” Sisto offered.
The man reduced his name down to that of a child’s nickname. Andy. Andrick always hated when someone tried to call him that. Andy was a name for children. Andrick was the name given to someone chosen to be a messenger of death.
“Seriously, you got nowhere to run.”
Ignoring his warnings, Andrick asked, “How did you find this place?”
“Well,” Sisto started, a look of confusion on his face on where to start. “I have a team that did a lot of research. They found Andrick Benton rented home here. Benton, as in Dale Benton, right?”
Very impressive, Mr. Sisto. I truly have no idea how you tracked me that far back.
“Your footprints were found at the creek in Logan Woods back in ’95. XTRAGRUFF brand, common boot in Alaska, which unfortunate for you, holds a common molding on the bottom of the sole.”
Andrick rolled his eyes as if to acknowledge the fact he now knew. Mr. Sisto continued, ho
wever.
“The “X” was at the top of the creek, the same creek they pulled Troy Boatman out at the bottom of, skull crushed in and lungs full of water.”
The description gave Andrick a warm feeling in his heart.
“Everyone was questioned that was at that party, including you…and your neighbor, Dale Benton.”
The resolve Tom Sisto had was uncanny. Andrick had never been up against anyone as intelligent as the man that stood in front of him. Andrick searched for his white whale throughout every event stop from Spokane to Miami, year after year. He thought he found a worthy advisory in Fitz Ackerman. He should have given the crippled man more of a chance, as it was him that proved himself to be extremely worthy. A new set of sirens rang out, quickly getting louder, indicating Andrick had no time now. He had to get it off his chest, to get at least one person to understand that he was doing the world a service.
“Mr. Sisto, it sounds like our talk is coming to an end. I want you to know something. I want you to know that I was never going to stop.”
Andrick could see Sisto flinch at the admission.
“I was put on this Earth to help send people to the next step in their soul’s journey. I was put here to guide and help. The only payment I required was to get a front-row seat to watch their life light leave.”
“Andrick, it’s not too late. Please, put the gun down now. Tell your story. Don’t let this be how it ends.”
The sirens may as well have been going off in his ear, as Andrick could see spinning red and blue lights at the end of the suburban street.
“Mr. Sisto. I’m glad it was you. I am glad that you were the one to hear the truth before I go away.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, Andy.”
“Andrick!” Andrick snapped.
“Sorry, you aren’t going anywhere, Andrick.”
“But I am. I am on my way to the next part of the soul’s journey. There is a toll, however.”
Andrick turned his gun downward and harder into the side of Luke Norton’s skull.
“Whoa, whoa!” Sisto yelled, from the end of the driveway, gun still steady on Andrick.
Andrick was ready to move on. He was ready to meet up with his maker. He felt confident once he arrived at the doorstep of the next realm, he would be revered. He could just imagine how he would be referred to by all the others waiting. Oh, you don’t know Andrick Wesley? He was one of the most resourceful and impressive couriers of souls. Andrick knew as the numerous police cars started to park that there was no way out of his situation. He just had one more task to complete.
Sisto had turned around to the officers hanging out of their vehicles, guns out. Sisto held up his badge from a hidden compartment in his hoodie jacket, telling them all to stand down, as they were all pointing their weapons at Andrick.
“Mr. Sisto,” Andrick spoke softly as if they were having a business lunch. “It is my time to go now.”
“Just wait a minute,” Sisto pleaded.
“I must go but I can’t show up to the next realm empty-handed.”
Sisto raised his firearm back at Andrick, begging him not to proceed where he knew the situation was headed.
“Mr. Norton,” Andrick said. “Do you have any last words?”
CHAPTER 35
“Do you have any last words?”
The statement chilled Sisto to the bone. He did not want to kill anybody but sure didn’t want Norton to die in the process. He looked back again to see many patrol officers with itchy trigger fingers. He knew if he could just get another minute or two with Andrick, he may be able to change the course the man had set.
“C’mon, Mr. Norton. We are losing daylight. If you have no last words, then we will just move on with it.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got something to say.” Norton said, trying to sound as tough as one could after the beating he had endured.
Sisto lowered his gun slightly, taking the crosshairs off the gunman, so he could look at Norton as he spoke.
“Please, go right ahead.” Andrick politely invited, gun pressed and ready to end Norton as soon as he was done with his address.
“I won’t make it long. I only got one thing to say to you.” Norton started, causing the dozen uniformed officers, Sisto, and even Andrick Wesley to fall to silence. Norton sighed heavily and uttered one word barely audible. “Henkleman.”
Sisto immediately rose his gun back up and rang off two chambers from the Glock, which echoed throughout the entire street. The first slug hit Norton directly in the shoulder. The blood popped like a squib prop from the set of a movie. The impact shoved the full weight of Luke Norton back, altering Andrick Wesley’s balance and losing pressure on the gun in his right hand. The gunman staggered back slightly and Sisto was confident he had not hit any bones in Norton’s shoulder, which meant it should have gone directly below Andrick’s throat, near his chest cavity. Sisto was never willing to take the risk, which is why the second bullet was squeezed off immediately after the first, completing the exact same tactic that got him into trouble a few days ago.
The headshot was incredibly clean and landed just to the lower right center of Andrick Wesley’s forehead. Sisto was confident if the first slug had not caused Norton to fall into the gunman, it would have landed right in the dead center of his forehead. Andrick inadvertently let his grip on Norton go limp, resulting in the injured officer to slide down to the ground in pain. Sisto stared as he slowly approached Andrick Wesley.
There were no motor skills that could be executed after the bullet entered, leaving a hole the size of a nickel gaping from his head. There had been no exit wound, which meant the bullet itself ping-ponged around in the man’s skull, tearing up important brain matter. The body was not ready to shut down however and Sisto walked all the way up to Norton and Andrick. Sisto could see Andrick’s jaw involuntarily moving ever so slightly. His Adam’s apple wavering back and forth with no words forming.
Sisto was not happy about the situation and even though it had to be done, it gave him no pleasure in killing another human. He stood there, looking at the cold eyes of a man that took the lives of dozens upon dozens of people over the years. The man didn’t deserve his sympathy but had it none the less. Still swaying and waiting for the body to shut down, Sisto stared as he could see Andrick Wesley start to lose the glimmer in his eyes, the life light as Andrick referred to it. Another moment passed until Sisto swore he saw a small grin form in the corner of the man’s mouth, before finally collapsing in the front yard of the suburban home.
The whirlwind of people behind Sisto went into action. Sisto heard someone radio in an ambulance, officers swarmed each side of him to protect the scene of the crime. Sisto knelt towards the injured officer to make sure he was all right, considering Sisto had just shot him.
“Norton, I am so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” The man groaned, losing color in his face.
“I was looking for an alternative the entire time. I just didn’t see one.”
Norton asked to be propped upright. Sisto helped the man, careful to avoid the tender, exposed flesh of his right shoulder. Norton coughed, no blood visible, Sisto noticed, which gave him a small sign of relief.
“Some rookie asshole once told me if you can shoot the hostage in a non-life-threatening way and take out the gunman, it would be the lesser of two evils.”
Sisto smiled and just nodded. “So, you think I will pass my exam this week?”
Norton giggled. “Sisto, you are going to be on paid suspension while Internal Affairs investigates your ass for shooting a fellow officer.”
The smile melted off Sisto, forgetting about the due process of the law. He wouldn’t have changed it anyway the situation was cut. He knew the only way to ensure Norton lived was to have it go down the way it had. Sisto stood up as two officers knelt to support Luke Norton’s upright position until the medics arrived. Sisto patted Norton on his good shoulder and stood up to walk back to the squad car he had parked at the end of the street, t
o make a call.
“Pop quiz, Hotshot,” Norton called out.
Sisto, no more than a few feet away, turned back and smiled at the bleeding officer, realizing he picked up on the tactic Sisto stole from the Keanu Reeves action movie.
“You did real good. As far as I am concerned, this was the test. I will tell Kendrell to process the report on my behalf and I will sign it before I go into surgery. Even if IA ruffles feathers, you will already be in the system as a successfully passing SWAT member.”
Sisto grinned slightly and nodded. “Thank you, Norton.”
Norton smiled back but it was cut off by a twinge of pain that ran through his open wound at that moment.
“Sorry again about that,” Sisto said, pointing at the raw, exposed flesh at the man’s shoulder.
“I’m left-handed. If I were to get shot in any shoulder, you picked a good one.”
“I should shoot you more often, Norton. This is the nicest conversation we have ever had.” Sisto blurted, instantly regretting it as Norton’s complimenting face went back to a rigid, stoic tone. “You know what? Forget I said that. Let’s leave this on a good note. Rest up, Norton.”
Sisto turned back and headed down the street until he got to his borrowed car. He sat in the driver’s side and pulled out his phone to call Bell. He stared at it a moment and his hand was slightly trembling. The event hit him emotionally, harder than he expected it to, and he was definitely in need of some downtime in the near future. He then remembered what Norton said about IA investigating the shooting and realized he wouldn’t even need to ask Bell for a vacation. A mandatory one was heading his way. Instead of dialing Bell, he called one of the few numbers he knew by heart.
