After the Execution

by James Raven

  ‘So you think she’s in danger – from the same people who are chasing you?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘But if they’re cops they won’t hurt her, so what’s the problem?’

  I hesitated. ‘They’re not cops. They’re federal agents and they want me dead. I don’t know why.’

  She drew a breath and I saw the doubts clouding her features.

  ‘I’m not sure I believe you,’ she said.

  I shrugged. ‘If I was you I wouldn’t believe me either, but it’s the truth.’

  She started to say something, but the baby began crying because she was hungry or thirsty or just plain miserable. So Kate had to climb in the back to sort her out.

  After she was done I told her I didn’t want to talk anymore. I said I had some more thinking to do.

  So we sat in silence during the rest of the fifty minute journey to Mountain City.

  23

  IT WAS TOO dark to see much of Mountain City. The night was heavy and oppressive by the time we got there. The moon was full, stars no more than pale pinpricks of light.

  When the satnav indicated that we were almost at Emily’s house, I rolled the Explorer to the curb and left the engine running.

  ‘This is where we go our separate ways,’ I said. ‘It might not be safe for you to get any closer to the house. I don’t know what to expect.’

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and drew in a chest full of air to try to slow the pulse racing in my ears. Kate pressed her mouth into a thin line and the swelling on her bottom lip from Larson’s backhander became more pronounced.

  ‘So that’s it?’ she said. ‘I can go now?’

  I nodded. ‘We’ve each got our own problems to deal with. I’m sorry I put the frighteners on you earlier. I was desperate and you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  ‘It’s the story of my life,’ she said.

  I grasped the handle, shoved the door open. Before getting out I looked back at Anna. She was still sleeping, her head lolling to one side, her eyes moving beneath the lids.

  ‘You have a great daughter,’ I said. ‘She shouldn’t have to see her mother getting hurt.’

  ‘She won’t anymore,’ Kate said. ‘I can promise you that.’

  I swung out of the Explorer and Kate got out her side and came around to the pavement.

  We stood under a street light that glowed like a white halo. The cool air felt good in my lungs, but there was no time to savour it.

  I took out her cellphone and gave it back to her.

  ‘I’d like to ask a favour,’ I said.

  She looked up at me and I could see that her eyes were filmed with fatigue.

  ‘You’re going to ask me not to call the police,’ she said.

  I nodded. ‘At least don’t do it right away. Give me a chance to get my sister away from here.’

  She cocked her head on one side. ‘OK,’ she said.

  I had no way of knowing if she meant it. There was a good chance she’d call 911 as soon as I was out of sight. And nothing I could do about it.

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ she said. ‘I won’t call them. I promise. You saved me from a beating back there. I know from experience what Frank would have done to me. So I owe you that.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’m grateful.’

  There was an awkward moment. I felt I should say something else but I didn’t know what.

  ‘I hope your sister is OK,’ Kate said.

  She got behind the wheel and pulled the door shut behind her. Then the Explorer pulled away from the curb and took off.

  Even before the tail lights disappeared I was heading towards Emily’s house.

  Emily told me once that she moved to Mountain City because she had friends here. But she’d rarely spoken about the place or about the house she’d moved into after selling her apartment in Houston.

  So I didn’t know what to expect, except that it wouldn’t be a palace. She only had a moderate income from her job as a secretary in a waste management company.

  Her street was silent and peaceful, without traffic. There were about a dozen parked cars. I heard a dog’s plaintive bark in the distance.

  I walked along the street cautiously, my eyes searching the gloom for signs of life. I didn’t see any. I stayed in the shadows and moved along the pavement. Pools of darkness crowded around the few street lights. It was a short, residential street with about fifteen detached houses, two of them with ‘for-sale’ signs out front. Emily’s property, number four, was fenced with redwood tongue-and-groove and there was a rickety gate that was open. Her car, a battered old Ford, was parked outside.

  I stood across the road, feeling wildly conspicuous in the grubby beige suit. I studied the house carefully for a couple of minutes. It was another single-storey affair, constructed of grey brick and with a small concrete porch. There were lights on inside.

  Through one of the windows I saw a movement. I couldn’t be sure if it was Emily so I started walking across the road. At the same time I reached in my pocket and clasped the gun I’d taken off my would-be assassin; it was starting to feel familiar, like an extension of my hand.

  I got another fleeting glimpse of a figure through the same window as I approached the gate. This time I saw that it was indeed Emily. She was wearing a dressing gown and had a glass in her hand. The sight of her came as a tremendous relief. I took it to mean that I was one step ahead of the Feds. Either they hadn’t thought to come here or they just hadn’t arrived yet.

  Now for the tricky part, I thought. I was about to give my sister the shock of her life. As far as she was concerned I was dead. We had said our goodbyes and I’d been consigned to her memory bank. Now I was going to reappear like a ghost and fuck up her life all over again.

  I snapped my eyes up and down the street, my mind running through a labyrinth of possibilities. Was the house already under surveillance? Was I about to walk into a trap? Was I being totally reckless in coming here? All these questions were suddenly answered when something caught my eye.

  A tiny flash of orange light, like you get when someone sparks up a cigarette. And that someone was sitting in a car that was parked along the street about thirty yards away.

  I felt the air lock in my chest and the blood stop pumping through my arteries. This wasn’t the kind of street where people sat in cars in the dark. Not unless they were watching and waiting for something to happen. Or someone to show up.

  Shit. I’d made a mistake. A big mistake. I should have been more circumspect, maybe approached the house from the back like any sensible person would have. Well there was no turning back now. And no time to consider my options. I had to go for it.

  The pathway scree scrunched under my shoes as I hurried up to the front door and rang the bell, all the time watching the car to see if anyone got out.

  Emily’s screechy voice suddenly came from beyond the door.

  ‘Who is it?’

  I noticed there was no spyhole. She couldn’t see me. So how the hell was I going to convince her to let me in? It was something I hadn’t given any thought to.

  ‘It’s Lee, Emily,’ I blurted out. ‘Your brother. I’m not dead. I know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me.’

  A beat of shocked silence. Then Emily said, ‘Go away, whoever you are.’

  ‘The execution didn’t happen,’ I yelled back. ‘It was faked. Listen to my voice.’

  ‘Fuck off you creep, before I call the police.’

  ‘Please, Emily. Open the door. It is me. Lee.’

  Emily responded again, but this time her words didn’t register because at that very moment whoever was in the car along the street decided to get out. The vehicle’s interior light came on and I saw two figures emerge. The darkness didn’t allow a clear view of them, but I was pretty sure they were guys in suits.

  I felt my heart start to gallop. I thought about taking off, but even if I got away I couldn’t leave my sister behind.

&nbs
p; I had a sudden brainwave and said, ‘Emily, listen. We talked about Monty when you last came to see me. Do you remember?’

  There was no reaction this time. Just a heavy silence from inside the house. I thrust my hand into my pocket and gripped the gun. My gaze was fixed on the two dark figures who were walking towards me. They looked ominously big. One of them discarded a lighted cigarette, sparks exploding on the road.

  They were maybe twenty yards away now. Two men dressed in dark suits. Tall and ready for action. If they weren’t federal agents then I was willing to bet they were part of the clandestine army of private operators who were frequently hired to do the dirty work for government agencies like the FBI and CIA.

  Fear clawed at my belly like a tiger and my lungs started dragging in air. I pulled out the gun to let them know I had it. Slid off the safety. It stopped them in their tracks. Now they had a decision to make. Take me on or wait for back-up.

  I was still waiting for them to decide when my sister threw open the front door.

  She took one look at me and said, ‘Oh my Lord. It is you.’

  24

  I CHARGED INTO the house, shoving Emily out of the way. She yelped in alarm and staggered backwards.

  ‘Don’t panic,’ I shouted as I booted the door shut behind me.

  But she did. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets when she saw the pistol. And she started screaming.

  I raised my empty hand, palm out, said, ‘Stop it, sis. Please. You have to calm down.’

  She froze mid-scream. For a single terrifying moment the world seemed to stop still. My brain seized on various impressions like an automatic camera taking a series of still photos. My sister’s face sculpted tight with terror. The sudden silence roaring in my ears. The sepia-toned walls of the hallway. The haze of cigarette smoke.

  Then just as abruptly the world started spinning again and I found myself grabbing my sister’s hand and pulling her roughly down the hall.

  ‘People are after me,’ I said in a voice I could barely control. ‘You’re in danger too. It’s why I came here.’

  ‘But you’re alive,’ she stuttered. ‘That’s not possible.’

  At the end of the hall an open door led into the living room. Small and drab with a hardwood floor and a leather sofa that took up more space than it should have. There was a coffee table and a TV that was not switched on.

  I spotted the window through which I had seen Emily moving around. I rushed across the room to close the curtain, mindful of the fact that I was presenting myself as a target to the guys outside. Luckily I wasn’t shot at.

  ‘What’s going on, for God’s sake?’ Emily wailed.

  I felt breathless as I turned to face her. She looked tired and strung out. Her hair was stretched away from her face by a ponytail and she was shaking, the tremors travelling down her arms to her fingers.

  ‘There are two men outside,’ I told her. ‘They’ve come to kill me and I think they intend to kill you too.’

  She shook her head. ‘This is insane. I must be dreaming.’

  I crossed the room, grabbed her by the shoulders and stared intently into her face.

  ‘Listen to me, sis. We’re both in danger. They were waiting for me outside. I don’t….’

  She tugged herself away from me, and her eyes flared with anger and confusion.

  ‘No, this can’t be happening,’ she shrieked. ‘You were executed. I saw it on the news. The prison called to tell me.’

  I felt my chest tighten. ‘No, sis. As you can see I’m very much alive. But I’m in the middle of some kind of weird conspiracy. They want me dead and I don’t know why.’

  She frowned and the animal fear in her eyes softened slightly.

  ‘Who? Who wants you dead?’

  Before I could answer I heard the doorbell ring. My heart stuttered in my chest and I felt the acidic surge or heartburn flare in my stomach.

  ‘The light switch,’ I said. ‘Where is it?’

  I didn’t wait for an answer. I looked to the obvious place on the wall and hurried over to flick it to the off position. As the room was plunged into darkness Emily let out a frightened whimper.

  ‘Is there a back door?’ I yelled.

  She didn’t respond. How could she? Her mind was blown. She had lost her grip on reality.

  The doorbell rang again.

  I reached out, seized Emily’s arm, dragged her back into the hallway. There was just enough light to keep me from slamming into walls and furniture.

  I pulled to the right, away from the front door, and saw a wedge of moonlight in front of me on what looked like the kitchen floor. But in that very instant there came an explosion of breaking glass from the same direction. There was no escape now, not unless I seized control of the situation before I lost it altogether.

  And there was only one way to do that.

  I let go of Emily’s arm, took two steps forward, and fired blindly into the kitchen. The gun bucked dramatically in my hand and there was a deafening blast of noise. A millisecond later came a burst of return fire. Three shots and one of them almost had me. I felt an arrow of air whizz past my neck and hit the wall behind me with a dull thud.

  I threw myself back into the hallway and collided with Emily, who was squatting on the floor. I clasped the sleeve of her dressing gown and tugged her to her feet. Her body shuddered and she gave a loud moan.

  ‘Stay close to me,’ I said. ‘I’ve got you.’

  I wanted to get her into the living room. I figured there was some cover for her there. And maybe, just maybe, we could escape through the window. But everything was happening in fast-motion, so when the front door was suddenly kicked in we were still in the hall with our backs against the wall. The guy responsible was framed in the doorway, a black shape against the muted street illuminations. He was slow to react even though he was waving a revolver in our direction.

  So I didn’t hesitate. I lifted my gun and shot at him first. Three rounds and each of them hit the target. His body convulsed as though he’d been wired to the mains. He gave a sharp grunt, let go of his pistol, and fell backwards onto the porch.

  By now Emily was hysterical, floundering like a grounded fish. I took hold of her hand and pushed her into the living room. But then I got a shock. The room was no longer in darkness. There was a fierce shaft of light coming from the left. Too late I turned and saw a door I didn’t know was there. The second guy had already come through it from the kitchen. He was holding a flashlight in one hand and a gun in the other.

  The gun exploded in his hand and I heard a cry of agony that filled me with dread. My own gun went off even though I was unaware I’d pulled the trigger. But the bullet missed its target as the guy dipped his body to the right and ducked down behind the sofa.

  My gut told me that once he reappeared he’d have the drop on me. So I lunged forward and dived over the back of the sofa just as he was struggling back up.

  He bellowed as I crashed into him. The momentum sent him sprawling back onto the floor with me on top of him. But he was no slouch. He managed to heave his way out from under me before I could follow through. He rolled away and at the same time reached for his gun which had hit the floor.

  I was still holding onto my own pistol so I brought it down hard on the side of his face. He let out a loud grunt and tried to turn towards me. But it was the wrong move because it meant I could deliver the second blow right between his eyes.

  His body went limp, but I whacked his head three more times to make sure that he wasn’t going to get up again.

  My ears were pulsating and my heart was beating its way out of my chest. I jumped up and staggered over to the wall switch, flooding the room with jaundiced light. I knew what I was going to see but that did not diminish the shock of seeing it.

  Emily was lying on her back and blood was oozing out of a gaping wound between her breasts.

  25

  MY SISTER HAD taken a bullet that was meant for me. I didn’t want to believe she was dead. It wasn�
�t possible. Surely life couldn’t be that cruel.

  I rushed over to where she lay and knelt beside her. I placed two fingers against her carotid artery, praying for a pulse. Nothing. I lowered my ear to her chest, listening for the sound of her heart. There was no sound.

  I stared at her lifeless body, mesmerized, transfixed, in shock. Her dead, empty eyes stared up at me and I felt myself go cold despite the warmth in the room.

  Oh God, no. Not this. Not Emily.

  I went numb. Everything receded around me, until I was left with a pain that was so intense it felt like my insides were awash with scalding water.

  What had I done? Why had I come here? Why the fuck did this have to happen? I closed my eyes and abandoned myself to the sudden onslaught of grief. I felt my throat constrict until I couldn’t swallow. A choking sadness surrounded my heart.

  After the pandemonium, an eerie silence descended on the room, but in the distance I could hear the unmistakable sound of police sirens. The neighbours, alarmed by the shooting, must have called 911. But I didn’t budge. I continued to kneel beside my sister, my hand on her cold forehead. An image of her as a child flashed in my mind; her infectious smile and bright blue eyes. She was a great kid who grew into a warm and considerate woman who should have gone on to have a bountiful life with a loving family.

  But I had ruined things for her. Ten years ago I’d plunged headlong into an abyss and taken those I loved with me. First my wife and now my sister. Because of me, Emily’s marriage was wrecked and she’d been forced to move away from the city where she grew up. And because of me she was now dead at the age of thirty-five.

  The tears welled up and I buried my face in my hands and wept. I wept for my sister and for my wife and for all the years I’d lost. But I didn’t weep for long because I knew that if the cops caught me here I would either be killed or put back in jail. Then I would never be able to find out why this had happened. And it was something I suddenly knew I had to do.

  It was too late to atone for my own sins. But not too late to ensure that others paid the price for theirs.