by Leon Logos
“Hmm, so you came with your family. A little too early to be camping, don’t you think? Where’s your parents? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
Serenity debated in her mind whether she should answer or not. He was firing too many questions at her, questions she wasn’t willing to answer. The man took another step forward. This time, her nerves kicked in. She positioned her hand closer to her rucksack where her knife was, keeping her back foot ready to retreat if necessary. The man noticed her cautioning behavior and frowned.
“Do I frighten you?” he asked, his tone shifting.
Serenity didn’t respond. She recalled her reason for being here and the description Desmos provided. The memories of her past failures also flooded into her head; furthermore, the excessive taunts towards her “cowardice” nature. She took a deep breath and slowly reached for her knife. The man took notice of this, and his eyebrows furrowed.
“A pretty little girl like yourself shouldn’t be within reach of weapons,” he said in a patronizing manner.
“You’ll come to find out that I’m not your typical ‘pretty little girl,’” Serenity replied warily.
The man began laughing again. He then feinted a charge. Serenity drew her knife again instantly.
“Your hands are shaking,” the man scoffed. “It’s very faint, and you’re good at concealing it, but you lack the killer instinct.”
Serenity didn’t reply. Her morality manifested; she knew she didn’t want to harm or kill this man. But sometimes a mission could go south and could result in an undesirable outcome. Clearly, the man realized her moral dilemma and capitalized.
He kicked the knife from her hands, disarming her. Serenity quickly reached for her duffel bag but was not quick enough. The man charged her this time, pinning her to the ground with a crash. She struggled with all her strength, but she was being overpowered and subdued. His hands reached up to her throat, and he squeezed, cutting off her oxygen supply.
“Let this be a message to that oaf Gunther!” the man spat, strengthening his grip.
Suddenly, there was a loud whistling sound and then a thunk.
Immediately, the man’s grip loosened, and he released her. Serenity summoned a deep breath, gasping for oxygen. It was instant relief. She coughed and wheezed, massaging her neck. As she sat upright, she noticed that the man lay dead before her. His eyes and mouth were open, and a black crossbow bolt was stuck in his breast. It had penetrated his heart, and he must’ve died shortly after impact. Scarlet blood ran down his shirt from the wound like a mini waterfall, staining his clothing.
“PERFECT SHOT!” a voice blared, coming from the other side of the stream. Serenity didn’t even have to turn around; she recognized that maniacal voice easily, without thought. Cackle’s raucous laugh followed as she spotted him running towards them, boots splashing against the water violently. Serenity continued to stabilize her breathing, still recovering from the potential near-death experience. Though, she had experience in that department…
Cackle crouched down, observing the damage he had dealt.
“Not even an inch off,” he grinned.
Serenity looked at him contemptuously but couldn’t help being grateful at his timely arrival. She surely could’ve died if she failed to reach the hidden pocket-knife in the back pocket of her pants.She brushed the dirt off her black jeans and got to her feet.
“I’ll call it in,” Serenity said.
“Like hell, you will,” Cackle snapped. “My kill, my call. Just wait a minute, so I can collect my trophy.”
Cackle seemed to be preoccupied with something. She looked down and then looked away instantly.
“Oh god, you’re INSANE!” she said, disgusted. “You collect tongues?!”
“Or fingers, eyeballs, hairs, etcetera,” Cackle said casually.
“Leave it! Have some respect!” Serenity said, shoving Cackle.
Cackle responded by shoving her twice as hard, knocking her off her feet. He stood up, glowering down at her.
“I just saved your life,” he scowled. “Stay out of my business, or I’ll shoot you too.”
“Forget the tongue, just at least take the hat instead,” Serenity said heatedly.
To her surprise, Cackle considered her suggestion. He looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds. After a moment of deciding, he shrugged and tore his eyes and mind off the tongue.
“Honestly, that ain’t a bad idea. Not often, something helpful comes out of your mouth.”
He put away his knife and then grabbed the hat off the ground.
Serenity got to her feet once again, grabbing her duffel bag. She washed her hands by the stream, cleaning the dirt and blood off her skin. Even if she didn’t end up killing someone, her hands ended up filthy anyway. Cackle pulled out his walkie-talkie from his pocket. They all had phones, but Desmos saw it fit to utilize talkies for communication rather than cellular devices. Cackle twisted to the correct channel and then brought the talkie up to his mouth.
“We’re done here. Target down,” he said.
As soon as the others confirmed hearing his message, Cackle pocketed the talkie. He then grabbed the body and threw it over his shoulder. This was the part when the body had to be hidden. Thoroughly hidden.
They were all back in the van after an hour. Serenity took her usual seat at the back, not speaking during the road trip. She tried ignoring Cackle, who was incessantly bragging about his kill and the accuracy of his shot. Serenity hoped he’d leave out the part regarding her plight; she didn’t want the brothers to think she had to be rescued and was being overpowered. That would simply prompt them to taunt her for her incompetence further.
“Directly through the heart!” Cackle boasted. “From at least thirty-five meters too!”
“Big deal,” Garen said, unimpressed. “I bet he was standing still like a plank, watching the birds.”
“Nah, man! He was wriggling around, on top of Serenity. His heart wasn’t fully exposed, but I still got that prick,” Cackle refuted.
Serenity sighed, looking at Cackle exasperatedly.
“On top of Serenity’?” Agno repeated quizzically. “What was he doing, piping her?”
She grimaced, mortified at Agno’s imagination.
“That would be hilarious,” Cackle snickered. “But no, he was strangling the crap out of her. Anyway, don’t even think he was a sitting duck. Just praise my skills and take notes.”
Serenity noticed Desmos looking at her through the rear-view mirror. She avoided eye contact.
“Yeah, but you’re still a baby when it comes to close-combat,” Garen smirked. “Always attacking from a distance.”
“Bullshit! Do you remember when I took down that bartender? He was at least your size!”
“You used a knife, keep talking,” Garen said dismissively.
Serenity checked her watch. It was only 1:56 PM. The two boys continued to argue for the remainder of the road trip. She spent it gazing out of the window lazily, watching the fields, cows, and greenery flicker by. They were speeding past farmland now. Staring out the window highlighted her activity during road trips. Truthfully, like Cackle, she detested road trips. A large portion of her life constituted car rides, and it was interminably dull. She preferred trains or even planes (she had only been on a plane twice in her life). Travelling encompassed her lifespan, but not in a pleasurable way. She wished she could travel simply for vacation and relaxation. But that was merely a daydream—a fantasy probably doomed to remain fantasy. Work and “the family” were prioritized first above everything else. Gunther had nearly beaten her once for requesting a day off to tour New York City when they were there for a job; it was because that particular day was when they were in the final stages of concluding a long-term mission.
After about an hour, they deviated into a food exit off the interstate highway. There was much complaining about “being starved,” so Desmos decided they’d stop for lunch. Serenity exited the van last, observing the sign on the restaurant:
“Daffy’s Delicious Diner: Washington’s Best Hamburgers EST.1973”.
Great, another burger joint, Serenity thought glumly.
She was sick of burgers; on the road, that was mostly what they ate. However, she was the only one that cared. The brothers, especially Garen, loved them.
“They better have something suitable for a big man!” he said, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
“Twenty minutes, and we’re out,” Desmos said. “Serenity, wait a minute.”
She stopped as the others continued, wondering what Desmos wanted to scold her for this time. He maintained the same perpetually-serious look on his face. Once the others were inside, he spoke.
“What happened back there?” he demanded.
She raised an eyebrow. “Can you be more specific?”
“Cut the crap,” he said sharply.
“You heard Cackle. He ‘bullseyed’ the target. It was a perfect shot,” Serenity said grumpily.
“You know what I mean. The part where he was on top of you. Unless, as Agno put it, he really was—”
“He wasn’t!” Serenity said irritably. “Yes, he was strangling me. But before I could get a chance to reach my knife, Cackle fired.”
“But what happened before that?” Desmos asked, his eyes narrowed.
“What—what exactly are you trying to get at?”
“Who encountered the target first? You or Cackle?” Desmos asked, his voice raised.
“Fine, I did, then Cackle came. We got into a scuffle, and that was it,” she said candidly.
“You know that’s not how we operate. To cut to the chase, you hesitated, didn’t you? And it almost cost you your life.”
Serenity didn’t reply. “We’ve been through this before. Too many times. Don’t hesitate; I thought I could trust you by sending you alone, but I guess I was wrong. Your death would cause nothing but complication. Mess up again, and punishment will follow. Got it?”
“Got it,” she mumbled downcast.
“Speak up!”
“OKAY!” she yelled furiously. With that said, she stormed into the diner, leaving Desmos in her tracks.
CHAPTER THREE
Going out to eat with family was conventionally meant to be a social gathering; to reinforce a bond and enforce communication between each other. For Serenity, it was a different case. She already spent too much unwanted time with the brothers; going out to eat was just an additional supplement to her misery. All of them had ordered burgers & fries, except for her; she was surprised to see “Caesar salad” on the menu and ordered it without regret. The greasy hamburgers didn’t appeal to her much.
All six of them occupied a booth by the window. She took the seat closest to the window, Agno and Kyler sitting adjacent to her. On the opposite side sat Garen, Desmos, and Cackle. Garen ravenously wolfed down his food, likewise to an animal who hadn’t eaten for days.
“Damn, you finished already?” Agno asked, dumbstruck.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen me eat?” Garen responded.
“I apologize for never paying much attention,” Agno shrugged.
“What the hell is that?” Cackle commented, pointing at her salad.
She didn’t bother responding; she was still cross from the pep talk earlier with Desmos, which killed her mood even further. At this point, she should’ve been used to it, but it never did get any less vexing. Serenity stared at the window, as she noticed two cop cars speed down the road, their sirens flashing and alarms blaring. She wondered if they had found the body and were currently searching for the perpetrators.
Over the years, they had a couple of close encounters with police, but it never resulted in an arrest. Gunther had taught them to be elusive and cover their tracks. Hiding was an essential component of the job.
They finished their lunch rather quickly and immediately got back into the van. Desmos was insistent on getting back home as soon as possible. They had been in Washington for about four months now; their temporary home was a large two-story house on a hill with at least 10 acres of land. Conveniently, they had no close neighbors, and the house was only about twenty-five minutes away from the town of Sequim (which was officially supposed to be a city). She honestly didn’t have any problems with the home. The weather was breezy, and the sunset was very conspicuous. It took three hours until she could finally notice familiar surroundings. The lavender farmland and the rainbow streaks of flowers had been encoded into her long-term memory. Although the sun was still up, Garen and Cackle were in a deep sleep. She found it impossible to get sleep during daylight. It just didn’t feel right taking a nap in the middle of the day and waking up tired and lethargic while sunlight still streamed through the window.
Before she knew it, they were driving up the road that led to their house on the hill. She disconnected her earbuds, already preparing to exit the van. The bumpy road caused the van to jerk roughly, waking both Garen and Cackle up from their slumber.
It was around 6:00 PM, and there was a reddish-orange tinge in the sky indicating sunset was nigh. At last, the van finally came to an abrupt halt, and the engine stopped. She got to her feet, the last one out the van.
“Father’s home,” Agno observed. “That’s new.”
“He’s awaiting our mission status,” Desmos said, slamming the van door shut. “Good thing, it was a success. Again.”
Serenity stopped at the veranda, behind the front door. She didn’t have the keys, and she didn’t want to be the first one inside.
“I need sleep,” Cackle said drowsily.
“You slept almost the entire ride, idiot,” Agno remarked.
Kyler stepped onto the veranda, tapping her on the shoulder. Serenity turned around, noticing his hand outstretched. She glanced down at it; sitting on the palm of his hand was a lily flower, white and yellow in coloration. Serenity looked at Kyler puzzledly.
“Found it on the side of the road at the diner,” he said blandly.
Serenity took it from him, still perplexed. How Kyler was aware of her specific attachment towards lilies (above all flowers) confused her. This was further evidence of Kyler’s unpredictable nature.
“Thanks,” Serenity said.
Kyler didn’t respond; he expressionlessly faced forward, awaiting Desmos, who now reached the porch to unlock the door. There were three locks on the door that were designed to hinder intruders. Only one key in the world could unlock them, which, of course, was in Desmos’s possession.
He opened the door and then pocketed the keys, stepping over the threshold and leading the way inside. Directly in front of them was a wooden double staircase leading to the second floor. Through the middle was the main open entrance that led to the ground-level rooms, conference room, kitchen, back door, and living room. Above them was a sizable, sparkly chandelier suspended from the ceiling.
“You’re finally back,” a gruff, gravelly voice called out to them.
It came from the conference room straight ahead, to the left. The voice, like Desmos, was low and intimidating. It possessed sheer authority. Desmos led the way to the conference room, as they all followed. The house was old, which was denoted by the antiquated walls and furniture. Gunther was seated patiently in the conference room, at the end of the long table in the largest chair. He was a large man, nearly as large as Garen, with jet-black eyes, a seamed, scarred, sunken face, and dark hair with a few gray patches. Gunther looked at all of them, making eye contact with Serenity for a split-second. She looked away, a prickle of fear electrocuting her; those dead eyes of his were liable to give anybody nightmares. Nobody usually spoke in Gunther’s presence, except Desmos. Only when spoken to, did they do so.
“I trust everything went smoothly,” said Gunther, his voice resonating.
“Yes, Father,” Desmos replied. “Everything went according to plan.”
“Excellent. This marks the final mission for quite a while. As you already know, school-season is approaching for you all this coming Monday. There will b
e no missions unless necessary. Rest well, as you’ll need it. The Aurelians are mobilizing.”
The Aurelians were Gunther’s mortal enemies, the people they were at war with for what seemed like forever. The individual's Serenity and her siblings were weaponized to fight all this time.
“Yes, sir,” Desmos nodded. “I’m no longer the standard age of the typical high school senior. Most students at twenty are already long graduated, excluding those held back.”
“Then you will play the role of a student held back,” Gunther said dismissively. “It’s imperative you remain close to your brothers at all times. You know this.”
Desmos nodded acquiescently once again; it was clear that he perceived school as an irritancy and something trivial.
“If that’s all, get a move on. We meet at the dinner table at the usual time,” Gunther ordered.
They all filed out of the conference room, Serenity, at the back of the line. She felt Gunther’s eyes glued to her back as she walked out.
“These Washington chicks better be worth it,” said Agno, as they all climbed the stairs. “White chicks are boring. I need more diversity.”
Agno was somewhat of a playboy; he was the only one of the brothers that chased girls around, welcoming social interactions. Agno normally did not get along with other boys in school, especially those that interacted with girls he was interested in; one time, in Georgia, he had hospitalized a boy he had deemed as competition. Agno was a chick-magnet and proud of it.
“You best hope there aren’t any Aurelians attending that school,” Garen warned. “We’d be out of that place fast as fu—”
“I get it,” Agno cut him off. “I’m just saying there better be an adequate incentive in wasting my time there.”
They reached the second floor, which comprised of four rooms. Desmos had his room every time; thankfully, so did Serenity. The brothers had come to a logical consensus that a girl should be separate from all boys. It had taken a little bit convincing, but Serenity managed to make them come to a final, conclusive agreement. Garen and Agno stayed in one room, and Cackle and Kyler the other. Though, as children, they had all slept in one room everywhere, Gunther had them to do this to “foster” their “brotherhood” and “teamwork.” She still remembered the bloody pillow fights and wrestling matches that occurred during those times.
