I Have Sinned

by Caimh McDonnell

  Bunny kept walking.

  He couldn’t stop walking.

  It’d be like walking straight into the rotating blades of a propeller plane. The man moved forward to meet him.

  “Very impressive,” hollered Bunny, his voice giddy with excitement, his eyes blinking constantly as they filled with water.

  The whirling whips were nearly in range now.

  “Have ye seen Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

  Bunny took out his gun and shot the man straight through the chest. One of the whips went flying over Bunny’s head into the darkness.

  “Sorry, but the last lad didn’t play f—”

  The shot from the sniper spun Bunny around, and he landed face down in the snow.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Emilio and Bianca stared at the sniper as the echo of his shot reverberated around them.

  “What did you do?” said Bianca in a quiet voice, afraid of the answer.

  Martin ignored her, pulled the bolt back to chamber another round and pressed the comms unit on his ear. “Secondary target shot Marsellus. Both men are now down.”

  “No!” screamed Bianca.

  She knew the metal bar trapped her in the car, but she still struggled to get out. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker! I’m gonna kill you!”

  He took his eye from the sights and smiled over at her. “Your fat friend is dead, bitch.”

  Emilio held Bianca awkwardly as she struggled, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You’re gonna get your head knocked clean off your shoulders, you monster. You hear me? Clean off. So help me, God.”

  Martin smiled a wide smile. “Your God didn’t help him and he’s not going to help you.”

  Bianca struggled some more. “You’re a no-good piece of shit, you know that? What kind of a weak-assed pussy has to shoot people from afar?”

  “Shut up, I’m tired of your little girl tantrum.”

  “That little girl p… punched you out,” said Emilio.

  Martin sneered at him. “One lucky shot.”

  “Face-to-face ain’t your thing,” said Emilio, in a calm voice.

  “He ain’t got the balls to stand up and fight.”

  Martin placed his hand on the grip of his handgun. “I’m fucking tired of being a babysitter for you two whining brats. Maybe I…”

  He stopped and put his finger to the comms unit again. “No, sir, he is…”

  Martin shifted the sights. “He… I don’t. Steffon appears to be down. I… Trying to reacquire primary now.”

  One hundred yards away, at the other end of the comms link, Abraham stood on the raised platform where, back when the park was open, acrobatic tumbling had been performed six times a day to entertain customers.

  He looked down at the man standing in front of him. “Don’t bother. He is here.”

  Chapter Fifty

  “Hello, Daniel.”

  “That is not my name.”

  Abraham gave a broad smile. The other man stood down on the ground in front of the stage – his audience of one. There appeared to be a red stain on his black jumper: a slow-bleeding wound or perhaps someone else’s blood. “Are you telling me that a priest just killed two of my men?”

  “I did not kill anyone. Jonah has a broken ankle and a shattered collarbone. Steffon has a broken leg. You should send them assistance.”

  Abraham pushed his long hair back behind his ears. “I did not raise any of you to need assistance.”

  Gabriel shrugged. “If you don’t, their deaths are on you.”

  “Out of curiosity, how did you get by Steffon so quickly?”

  “I was trying to go around him without engaging when he was distracted by the sound of gunfire. I saw an opening.”

  Abraham shook his head. “Sloppy. I noticed it on his last mission too. I’m wondering if his heart is in it anymore.” He clenched both of his fists together. “He was such a force to be reckoned with in his prime.”

  “Maybe we all tire of death eventually,” said Gabriel.

  “I haven’t,” said Abraham. “Although I really consider myself to be in the business of life.” He spread his arms out wide. “Without me, without your family, you’d have wound up dead in a gutter in that stinking favela I found you in. Not only do you turn your back on us, but now you fight against us. You kill us.”

  “I haven’t killed anyone.”

  “Oh no?” said Abraham. “I believe Pascal and Marsellus are both now dead. That gunfire you heard was your friend.”

  Gabriel shrugged. “He is only here to save the two children you took as bait in your sick little game.”

  “Game?” said Abraham. “This is no game. I am trying to take back what was stolen from me.”

  “And it has resulted in two deaths and two of your men being incapacitated. Haven’t you seen enough of this madness?”

  “No. I consider this a valuable exercise. Frankly, if they cannot handle a couple of turbulent priests, then the seven requires an injection of fresh blood.” Abraham looked up at the sky, watching the snow falling. “Shows no sign of stopping, does it?” He looked down, a thought occurring to him. “Oh, and you mean three. Three deaths. Your annoying friend is no longer with us.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” said Gabriel. “Sadly, I don’t think we can call the man my friend. Being raised by you, I don’t think I have the capacity to truly have friends.”

  “You had something better than that. You had a family.”

  Gabriel sighed, suddenly feeling all kinds of weary. “Can we not end this now? There need not be more bloodshed.”

  Abraham stepped forward to the front of the stage. “But we’re just getting to the best part! It is time for you to truly embrace who you are.”

  “Who I was.”

  “And who you can be again.” Abraham bent down and picked up what was lying at the edge of the stage. Gabriel had known they would be there: two fencing swords. “This was always meant to be, don’t you think? The master takes on the student; there is a certain poetry to it. You kill me and become your true self, or you die a heroic death in battle, like the warrior you always were.”

  “Let’s not pretend I live either way.” Gabriel pointed at the sky. “I imagine I am in Martin’s sights right now. He will be itching to kill me.”

  “Ah,” said Abraham. “Sibling rivalry. It always saddened me that the two of you never got along.”

  “He is a psychopath.”

  “Now now, there’s no need for name calling. I respect your objection though, which is why there is a sniper rifle behind the stage. If you kill me, you and Martin can work out your differences once and for all.”

  “Even if it is there, my chances of reaching it will be slim.”

  Abraham tutted. “So negative.” He raised his arms to the sky and hollered out in a mocking tone, “All you need do is ask, and the good Lord shall provide.”

  He tossed one of the fencing blades towards Gabriel, who neatly stepped aside and caught it by the hilt.

  Abraham jumped down from the stage. “En garde!”

  “What are they doing?” asked Bianca, whose position gave her no view of the area below and to the right of the rollercoaster.

  “They’re f… fencing.”

  “They’re doing what now?”

  “‘Hello. My n… name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. It’s y… y’know, with swords.”

  Bianca pulled at the bar yet again. “You are killing me. Father G is having a sword fight down there and I’m missing it?”

  “Sorry.”

  “This sucks.”

  “Wow!”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Emilio!”

  “The guy, like, went at Father G, and Father G j… jumped over his sword. It was cool.”

  “Enjoy it while you can,” said Martin. “If your so-called priest looks like he is getting the upper hand, I’m under orders to shoot
him in the back of the head. You don’t think the boss will actually let him win, do you? He just wants to prove a point.”

  “Scumbag!” spat Bianca.

  “She’s a real princess,” said Martin, looking at Emilio. “It’s a shame you will not get to enjoy your shitty life with your eight welfare babies in that ghetto you come from.”

  “Coopersville,” said Emilio. “Coopersville ain’t got much. Kn… know what it does have? Real family. Not like yours.”

  He laughed. “Please!”

  “Hey, asshole,” said Emilio. “Big man with a gun. I… I’m not a… afraid of you. L… look me in the e… eye.”

  Martin looked over at him. “What?”

  “Thank you.”

  “What for, retard?”

  “Being d… d… d… d…”

  Martin mimicked him. “D… d… d… de man who is going to kill you and your girlfriend?”

  Emilio shook his head and gave him a big grin. “Distracted.”

  “What’s that supposed to—?”

  Martin’s thought was interrupted by the rollercoaster jerking into movement.

  Gabriel was losing blood from cuts on his upper right arm and lower left leg. He was out of practice and it was going to kill him.

  “Dear, oh dear,” said Abraham. “You are very rusty, Daniel.”

  Gabriel parried a blow and counter-attacked, forcing Abraham to move backwards. “That. Is not. My. Name.”

  Abraham was toying with him. Gabriel felt like a mouse under a cat’s paw. Abraham wasn’t hungry, so he was enjoying the sport until he got bored.

  “You are what I named you because you are who I made you.”

  Abraham’s feint was well judged and Gabriel overcorrected, leaving his face open. His cheek stung as the blade sliced through the skin. He moved back. Blood was flowing freely; he could feel it run down onto his neck. Abraham lowered his blade and smiled at Gabriel.

  “Getting angry, aren’t you, Daniel? Doesn’t this feel good? Being who you were meant to be.”

  Gabriel remembered the smile. It had always been there, every time they had fenced throughout his life. Through a child’s eyes, he had seen it to be encouraging. Charming. Now, looking at Abraham from a world away, he saw it for what it really was: a smile that hid a sneer.

  “Of course,” said Gabriel, “this is quite a rarity for you, isn’t it? Being in the action. I mean, normally you just send others to do your dirty work.”

  There was a flash of something behind Abraham’s eyes. “That is the burden of command.”

  “Yes,” said Gabriel. “How many sons have you sent to their deaths now?”

  “It’s a cruel world.”

  “It’s interesting… You know, for all the talk of the family members and what they achieved in the field, your past is still a mystery.”

  Abraham resumed his fighting stance. “Is now the time for this chat?” He swung his rapier through the air, a whooshing sound accompanying the movement as it parted the falling snow.

  “You always implied that you were some great, accomplished field operative. I wonder though…”

  Abraham laughed. “Doubting your master?”

  “What is it they say? Those that can’t, teach.”

  Abraham darted forward and launched a volley of blows which Gabriel parried. Interesting. Abraham normally preferred to defend and counter. That was his technique.

  Gabriel, the blood flowing down his face in a steady stream now, moved forward onto the balls of his feet. Somehow, his old balance felt like it was returning to him. “Is that it?” said Gabriel. “You set about to create something you could not be? Because you weren’t good enough?”

  “I didn’t come here for one of your sermons, Father.” Abraham almost spat the last word. There it was, the snarl.

  Gabriel laughed. “Oh, good God, that’s what this is, isn’t it? The whole reason for the family. You lacked any power in the real world, so you created a fake one where you could play God. Train children up and then watch them die.”

  “It’s a—”

  “Cruel world,” finished Gabriel with a laugh. “Yes, yes, you said. It was cruel to you, wasn’t it? You never made it. You were a failure and you went to these great lengths, dedicated your life to creating the family, just to feel what it was like to be powerful. A small man, turning children into killers.”

  Abraham’s assault sent Gabriel rocking back, the precision replaced with violence. Keeping his footing in the snow was difficult. He stumbled and… Abraham raised his blade to deliver a slashing blow.

  There! Even as he fell, the gap revealed itself. Gabriel’s blade lashed out, his aim true. Abraham screamed. The tip of the blade sliced through his right wrist. Abraham dropped his sword and pulled his hand back, spurting blood darkening his jacket.

  Gabriel rolled and regained his footing, surging forward immediately.

  Abraham moved quickly backwards, a false smile on his face. Trying to feign composure. “Superb, Daniel. I’d applaud, only…”

  Gabriel passed Abraham’s sword, lying useless in the snow. “You’ve lost.”

  Abraham shrugged and raised his finger to his ear. “Take the shot!”

  Gabriel dived onto the ground. He scanned around him, looking for cover to sprint to, his body tensed for the shot he knew was coming. If he could only…

  He glanced upwards. Then he risked a longer look, to confirm what he had seen. Then Gabriel stood and looked at Abraham, who was now staring up at the rollercoaster too. Or rather, at the empty piece of track where the train had been.

  “Martin!” shouted Abraham.

  “This is a terrible thing for a priest to say, but it appears that, for you, there is no man upstairs.”

  “FUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!” screamed Emilio. He’d never been on a rollercoaster before. His grandma had forbidden it. She’d said that, because of his useless arm and his neck, it was too dangerous. He didn’t know if that was true, but he was pretty sure that this particular rollercoaster was too dangerous for anyone. His brain could be a grade-A dick sometimes. Case in point, the thought had popped into it, as the rollercoaster had gone down and around the first bend, that it probably wasn’t supposed to run on frozen tracks covered in snow.

  As they reached a relatively straight bit, Emilio glanced back. The one consolation was that even if he wasn’t enjoying the ride, someone was enjoying it a lot less. At least he and Bianca were held in their seats by a bar. Martin wasn’t.

  “Stop! Stop!” came the scream from behind Emilio. “Who the fuck started this?”

  Bianca smiled over at Emilio. Oh God, the crazy girl was enjoying this. She held her hands in the air. “Wooo!”

  Emilio’s first thought upon hearing the popping sound was that the tracks were coming apart, but on the second one, he saw a puff of stuffing as the bullet sliced through the material on the shoulder of Bianca’s coat. She screamed a different scream. Martin had found a focus for his anger.

  They huddled down, Emilio trying to put his good arm over Bianca’s shoulder to offer what protection he could, useless though it was. The seats were designed for holding people in, and as hard as they tried to lean forward and give Martin less to aim at, the G-force kept pushing them back. At least the ride also made it difficult for Martin to find a clean shot. Still, their luck couldn’t hold forever.

  The rollercoaster hurtled around a hairpin bend and Emilio felt his stomach drop. His Dolphins cap flew off his head and he could feel the snow beating against his face as the car hurtled on. He closed his eyes for a second and then forced them open again. Whatever was coming, it was better to see it. He felt another bullet whoosh by overhead and heard Martin laughing dementedly.

  Emilio glanced back. Martin stood in the back car, gripping the bar with one hand, his sidearm in the other. “Dying time!” he screamed.

  Emilio’s eyes widened and he gripped onto Bianca tightly.

  She screamed again. Not with joy this time. Not with fear either.

&nbs
p; Sometimes you roar into the darkness to show it you are unafraid.

  Sometimes you scream at the injustice at it all.

  And sometimes, just sometimes, life gives you a moment of pure justice and you holler in delight.

  And sometimes it gives you a mad, blood-soaked, half-dead Irishman with a baseball bat standing by the tracks.

  Years later, they’d both swear they felt the bat whooshing through the air over their heads, and they would always remember the sound. The sound of a man’s head being hit clean out of the park, or at least off his shoulders, isn’t something you’re ever likely to forget.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Abraham slumped down onto the snow, his wounded wrist held to his chest, blood pumping from it.

  “Let me look at that,” said Gabriel. “You need help.”

  “Shut up,” said Abraham. The man’s charm had finally left him. He awkwardly crossed his left hand over to his right ankle and took out the gun that was strapped there. He pointed it at Gabriel.

  “I thought you didn’t like guns?”

  “You think you’re better than me. You’re not better than me.”

  “OK,” said Gabriel, “but there’s no need for any more killing. Put the gun down and I can help you.”

  “Trying to bargain your way out, Father? Now you’re staring down the barrel at death?”

  Gabriel dropped his sword and raised his hands. “I’ve faced death a lot lately. Don’t forget, you sent David to kill me.”

  “Oh, please!” said Abraham. “That was just a hello. Something to let you get your eye in. On your worst day, I knew you could handle him.”

  Gabriel ran his hand over his cheek and took it away, looking at the blood. “I’m truly sorry.”

  Abraham let out a laugh devoid of any humour. “It’s a little late to apologise now.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t you I was apologising to.”

  Gabriel averted his eyes as the shot rang out. One clean shot to the chest. He could hear Abraham slumping over in the snow.