Drifter On The Horizon
Page 18
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
John
Despite spending nearly every day of the past month in her apartment complex, Zale has seen Jade only sparingly. Except of course, when she makes him kill people, which she keeps saying will happen again soon. The best case scenario is to be close to her but not actually interact with her, the image in his mind's eye of her is changing into what she actually is. Seeing her dampens his image of her, and himself. She has lost some of her glow and her hold over him doesn't feel as powerful, with every passing day he feels stronger. Despite all the flowing negatives he feels more alive than ever. It's like she released something deep inside him that was bottled up for years. Does it matter if she isn't as angelic as when they first met? His current mania is worth more than simple comforts or social constructs. His blissful scenario does have it's unfortunate consequences; her murderous missions and lack of sanity have played strongly on him. Despite everything she has put him through, he is still inexplicably drawn to her, and wishes to please her. If killing a few disgusting criminals is the small price to pay to keep his near perfect scenario running then so be it. It would be hard for a vagabond such as himself to pay a toll less than blood for his own happiness. Resigning himself, for the moment, with a deep breath he accepts his fate. He resolutely heads for Jade's apartment.
The ascent up the short flight of stairs could be a thousand miles or three feet, he is so preoccupied with the "mission" awaiting him. He can't let a trivial thing such as walking cross his mind now. He has already paid the toll of his innocence, he dreads what she will attempt to take from him today. He is so close to resisting her, if only he could break her spell. Her magnetic pull is just too strong. His scenario has played out the only way it could, he has been happy for months and once again must pay his dues. Her will is far stronger than his, he should consider himself lucky she doesn't hold him to uglier treatments.
The door pounds into his sight before he is ready, still his feet carry him against his wishes until he is only inches from it. She saves him the trouble of knocking and pushes him away, back into the hallway.
"I've been waiting, you're late, like usual," she says and hurries him down the stairs. She's never satisfied with him, she's never proud of his accomplishments.
"Sorry I was preparing myself for today," he excuses absently.
"Good, maybe you're finally taking this seriously."
"I'm trying," he lies with all the gusto he can muster, he knows this is nothing but penance for his good fortunes.
"You have a knack for it as well, maybe one day you could surpass me," she laughs.
"Thanks," he mutters. Despite the inane circumstances the compliment almost makes him beam. He prays to whoever is listening that he is just along for the ride today.
__________
Jade pats the back of his car as he drives away. She is in full control, his obedience in the last few weeks has cemented her ideals, he is nothing more than a pawn to be used. She is beyond a hundred percent convinced he will follow her to the ends of the earth if necessary. If he succeeds today he will never be able to resist her, not unless she overlooked some major detail. She couldn't imagine such a mistake being possible, not now, not ever.
The mission is as fully on his shoulders as it could ever be. Regardless, she must hurry to catch up to him, she doesn't want her apprentice dying, or worse, running before she's good and ready.
__________
Her details were far too sparse for Zale's liking. All she gave him was an address and a name. He cruises slowly in his wagon towards the target, not wanting to reach the destination. She promises Zale these men are evil but what concrete proof does he actually have? Her beige car looms large in his rear view mirror, she must want him to know she's tailing him. He can't decide the reason why, does she actually care for his well-being, or is she just letting him know failure is not an option? Is killing all she wants? He wishes that at least the smallest percentage of her covets his safety. Either way the circumstance remains, he must pay due penance for his double life. Today that payment comes in the form of a stranger's life, it's one he tries to believe deserves it.
He's always had the enviable ability to shut off his brain and let things run their course, and not for the first time, he is thankful for the aptitude. He absently rifles through the manila folder she gave him at the next red light, trying to find out where the man should be now. The last thing on earth he wants to do is drag this nasty ordeal out any longer than necessary. To his relief she has included the man's home address, and even more glorious, the folder says the man should be home this time of day. He logs the information away and tries to turn himself on autopilot. No wonder she's never home, she must be tailing lunatics all hours of the day. He caresses the giant hand cannon he has become all too familiar with over the past few years. Before all this killing business he really enjoyed target shooting, things have changed a little. The weapon brings him no joy now. At least it's large enough to put the man out of his misery in an instant.
The beige sheen of Jade's car is still too painfully present for his liking. She must really be hankering for him to get the job done. How he wishes he was relaxing with Azelia instead of in the middle of this disgusting mess. He makes a promise to himself to survive this and see her again. But for now he must comply.
Before his brain can erupt into beautiful daydreaming, the house detailed in the manila envelope snaps into view. His sinking heart forces him to come to terms with his immediate future.
The man's house is nothing of worth, a small rancher lying on a small lot sporting a nasty yellow tint, the siding of the house has been obviously molded for years. Half of the shutters have long ago decided to search for greener pastures among the weeds. The sight of the numbers plastered to the little house makes his already frantic heartbeat move all the faster. Jade is parked almost directly behind him, no longer even attempting to hold up her ruse of staying away.
Zale fingers the gun with a combination of hate, fear, and power coursing through his body. He can't decide which is strongest, until he looks back at Jade, fear takes center stage. Finally, after idling for near twenty minutes, he turns off the car and takes his first steps towards the man's house. Half of him prays for the man's absence, the other, more sensible side, wishes him to be home.
The impossibly long walk is over in only a few bounds. The gun is burning a hole in his hand. He can't decide how to get in, maybe smashing down the door is the best course.
He tries the door, it swings open. Erie silence rests in a cold fog over the entirety of the semi-dark living room, nothing but a lone TV riding a cardboard box. Somehow it feels dirty, despite no real filth anywhere. Zale's every breath breaks the deadly silence, his heart nearly pounds through his chest.
He scans the small living area to no avail. His feet are working their way to the back hallway, now hoping to find his mark. He imagines Jade salivating and licking her chops over the fear and anticipation building in his body.
He smells his choice of doors, a stench rivaling a garbage island billows from the first door on his left. Nature may have taken care of his business for him. The creaking and groaning of the door forces him to hold his breath, the carbon dioxide compels him to refill his lungs. The gun pushes its way into the room before him, he meekly attempts to cover his mouth and nose with his t-shirt.
The sight is bloody in every sense of the word. Nature did not take care of this man, Jade did. He could not imagine more blood coming from one person, the man's fingers have all been cut off, and upon further inspection his tongue as well. The sight is so shocking he contemplates walking outside and killing her now. No, she would probably best him and destroy him where he stood. Either way, he must be free of her, and soon.
__________
She shouldn't have helped him, but she just couldn't resist choosing a target she had already killed. He needs to know how she takes care of her targets when she has some time. Hopefully this sign of goodwill wins him over permane
ntly. The look on Zale's face is more disgusted than relieved. Either way, he did everything she wished, her life is morphing into a paradise faster than she would of thought imaginable.
__________
"Today's the day," John says. He can barely contain his excitement as he sits in the undersized barber's chair. Even though he has let his body waste away, the least he can do is get cleaned up and presentable for Clint.
"Oh," is all the unenthusiastic barber can muster. Not even noticing, John continues to fidget like a disobedient child in the old and uncomfortable chair.
"Hold still please," the barber tells him; his lack of energy matches the rest of the room, it's as bland as a place could be, not even one shred of decoration warps the white walls.
"Oh sorry, I'm just so excited, he's been gone so long, and now, he's finally coming back to me," John says, this time all the barber does is nod. The old barber should have quit long ago, all his features look to be in a race to see which one can hit the ground first. John could care less about the man's lack of enthusiasm. He's unsure if he has ever been this happy before, maybe on the day Clint was born. Having lost so much in the past few years has made this one gain seem near impossible. The barber unbuttons the smock around John's large body and consequently flings hair all over the room. A young apprentice comes to sweep it up immediately. John is nervous that Clint hasn't called in a few weeks, but he knows he's building the tension for their meeting. He wouldn't have lied to him about coming back.
"Twelve dollars," the barber says before John has had a chance to inspect the man's handiwork. Regardless, he pulls the money from his pocket before standing. "Thanks and good luck with your son," the barber says.
"No, thank you and I know everything will be perfect," John replies. He looks much better than the decrepit fat old man of a few weeks ago. A ray of light has been shining on him since he heard the great news. The weeks have flown by and he barely noticed the lack of Clint's calls, but he knows for a fact he will be here today. He walks outside of the small corner building, and tips his head to everyone he sees outside. He takes a deep breath and heads home to get things ready.