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Sharon pulled the trigger and
watched as her 6’4 male victim’s brains
splattered onto his fine linen pillows. A perfect kill…no collateral damage, no
evidence beyond what she anticipated…the pillow…and best of all no witnesses.
The gun was untraceable; her employer had made sure of that. Her heart pounded
from the thrill of the kill.
The world had too much bad for
its own good. Sharon liked to help the world with its problem.
“It’s done.” Sharon said into her cellphone.
“Where’s the payment?”
“Your payment will come in due
time…for now go home and spend some time with the family.”
“I don’t work for you because I
want to. Let me make that very clear. Whatever I do, I do it for my son. I do
it to put money on the table....”
“Spare me your lecture. You will
get your four thousand. As you very well know, everyone gets what they deserve
from me, just as that poor bastard lying there did.”
Sharon chuckled, and hung up. A
good sense of humor never hurt.
She took off her kill clothes,
standing naked in front of the mirror. Still fairly fit for a woman of 43…and a
mother…Sharon meticulously stashed her black camouflage into a plastic bag
which she stowed into the duffel bag and planned to dispose of. She pulled out
her civilian clothes from the duffel bag, changed into them, and left the house.
Crime paid well…to most she was a
hard working secretary and soccer mom of one, possibly struggling to make ends
meet. But she sat on a fat sum of 2 million from her contract killings over the
past 20 and odd years.
“Jack!!!!” Sharon yelled up the
stairs, cupping her hands over her mouth. “Jack!!! It’s 6:40! The bus is going
to be here in another 10 minutes, hurry up!” No response. Sharon stormed upstairs,
into her 17 year old son’s room where he was fast asleep.
She pulled his blanket off, and
shook him awake. “Jack! Wake up!”
“Uhh…mom…come on…I was over at
Brett’s last night.”
“Yes, till 1:00. And who’s fault
is that?! Now come on, your bus is going to be here.”
“Class doesn’t start till 7:10.
Can’t you drop me off?”
“No, I’ve been doing that for the
past three weeks, and look where that’s gotten you. Now go!” she pointed to the
bathroom. Jack reluctantly took his towel and headed inside. “And you know what?! You’re making your own breakfast,
so hurry up!!”
Sharon nearly slipped running
down the stairs. She hustled into the kitchen, pulled out two slices of bread
and jammed them into the toaster. Just as she pulled out the butter, her phone
went off.
“Hello?”
“Black escalade, Lebrun Autoshop.
Be there in 15 minutes.”
“My son is about to leave for
school!”
“Be there…or no payment.” The
caller hung up.
“Fuck!” she swore, doing her best
to keep her voice down. “Jack hurry up!”she yelled, and heard the shower turn
on. “God Jack you still haven’t started showering?!”
“I can’t help it mom, I couldn’t
find my toothpaste.”
“Well why didn’t you call me?”
“Because the door’s soundproof.”
“What?”
“From the inside.”
“Just get showered and get down
here!” She ran back, and smeared butter over the toast, wrapping it in a paper
towel.
Jack came rushing out, his long
brown hair flopping around wet as a mop.
“This is what you wear? These
jeans?!” she yelled. “They are torn in all the wrong places!”
“What? It’s all I had.”
“Oh come on Jack, I took your
clothes out of the drier just yesterday! Whatever, you’ll learn when you’ll
learn. Come on, you have 3 minutes…make yourself something and go!” she yelled,
pushing him towards the kitchen.
Jack ran towards the counter and
pulled out two slices of bread, There wasn’t enough time to toast, so he pulled
out the carton of Country Crock Butter, and smeared it onto both slices
hastily. He turned to head towards the door,
“Forgetting something?” Sharon
pointed to the carton.
“Come on mom, put it away
yourself.” Jack sulked, slumping his shoulders.
“You made the breakfast, you
clean up…come on…chop chop!” she clapped her hands. Jack nearly threw the
carton back into the fridge and grabbed his backpack, bolting towards the door.
“I love you!” she yelled out at
him as he ran towards the bus.
“Mom!” Jack frowned at her,
before climbing on.
Sharon raced off the driveway,
waving to her son…who as usual just ignored her.
She had five minutes left before
the payment became invalidated. The speed limit signs were a sort of blessing; none
under 50 miles per hour. Lebrun Autoshop was about 10 minutes from her house,
so she slammed her foot on the gas.
At exactly 7:04 she pulled up in
front of the auto shop, screeching to a halt. The black Escalade sat waiting at
the other end. Her phone buzzed again.
“You cut it close Sharon.” Her
boss taunted.
“Yeah whatever. Now where’s the
money?”
“Come unarmed. And don’t even
think about sneaking in that switchblade you brace to your ankle.” He hung up.
Sharon stepped out of her Camry,
gently closing the door. The Escalade kept running, the lights bright. Sharon
warily traversed closer.
She reached the passenger window.
It rolled down, and a black suited arm dropped a duffel bag outside. Sharon had
hardly bent down to collect it when the Escalade’s engine roared and the SUV tore
off into the main street.
Her phone buzzed…
“Satisfied?” her boss asked.
“That driver ought to get his
license revoked.”
“Good bye Sharon.”
Sharon pushed her shopping cart
down the Cereal aisle. It was rare that she got a free day like this. Just a
payment to pick up and no other engagements. Her phone buzzed. It was a text
message from her son.
Mom, pick me up after school
Sometimes Sharon ruminated over
her divorce. Was it really the right choice? Todd may have been a bad husband,
but he had still been a great father. As hard as it was to believe, he’d never
missed a single one Jack’s soccer games. Always present at every one to cheer
on his son.
Special K was up a dollar…and so
were the Cheerios…with her annual salary close to 90,000 she couldn’t
complain…Sharon took two boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios. For her, there’d never
been a coupon when she most needed one.
When Todd was around everything
had been so vivacious…so full of life and energy…for everyone except for
herself. She had the privilege of being the black sheep. Sharon always had been
that way. No siblings to meld with so she’d always been a lone wolf. Sometimes
she saw that attitude in Jack. Todd had been there to buffer it most of the
time, taking him out with his friends’ sons.
Now, it was all gone. Everything.
No phone calls, except from some stray friends Jack had picked up at school.
None of whom she approved, yet what could she do…the house was lonely enough as
it was. Robbing him of those friends would mean he’d live the rest of his life
in a shell, as she’d done. No parents nearby, no friends…a job that was void of
emotion. She’d lived her whole life on the mainland…yet her heart lived on an
island, distant from everything and everyone.
But Todd couldn’t stay. He worked
late hours. Sure, he was a great father…but wasn’t she important as well?
Perhaps not, but at that time she had felt so. He always seemed to have time
for Jack, but never for her. No romantic trips to the Caribbean, or to Paris as
he’d promised time and time again. No dinners at a five star restaurant.
Nothing. Was it too much to ask for a peck on the cheek? Was she really so
unhuman? She’d passed many a bullet through other people’s hearts but she could
say for certain that she preferred that to the many bullets that Todd had
passed through hers.
Why had it been killing? She
asked herself the question everyday. Why a hit-woman of all occupations? Not
out of remorse. Sharon liked the job very much, yet she couldn’t even pinpoint
why. Perhaps the emptiness of her childhood. She never had the upper hand in
anything. Abused by her boyfriend, and abandoned by her family…she could never
go the whole nine yards to bring justice. A cop, only shot when shot at. A
lawyer was a liar. Detectives were greedy. Someone had to clean up the streets…
Her phone buzzed again…
Hey mom, I’m going over to
Brett’s tonight. You don’t have to pick me up. Will be back for dinner
Okay honey…love you J she texted back.
Brett, that 5’4 twat. Slacker, coke
and gaming addict with a father too rich for his own good. Wouldn’t be too long
before Brett dropped out of college and begged for a spot in his father’s
company…Theodore Russell & Associates; A law firm for the corrupt and greedy.
Brett was on the fast track. Yet she couldn’t help but to accept that even the
worst of the lot had a chance. She knew best. Cocaine and Marijuana were her
two mantras during high school and even into her undergraduate studies at
Rutgers. By then she understood that sluts and crack whores weren’t exactly
secretary material…and especially not for the kind of secretary she aimed to
be.
It was 6:00 by the time she got
home. 15 minutes to catch a quick break and another to get some spaghetti ready
for Jack when he returned.
Ever since Todd left the power
bill had come down…she tried to laugh about that every once in a while. The
house was mostly dark when she came home. Usually she just left them on when
she was in the room. In her life, Sharon was always in the spotlight.
The spaghetti took five minutes
less than usual to make, the sauce spread over smoothly and the sweet aroma
pulled her out of the dark abyss which pulled her from around.
It was the wait that was the
problem. Jack came in at 7:30, an hour late.
“Hey mom, I’m home!” he called
into the house.”
“I can see that.” She said,
striding into the hallway. “So, how was it?” Sharon asked him as he dropped his
bag on the ground.
“Good, hey what’s for dinner?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing?”
“I mean like, you were one hour
late so I just ate it all.” Sharon lied.
Jack grumbled, and shuffled
towards the fridge. “You’re such a bitch.” He muttered.
“What was that?!” Sharon snapped.
“Nothing.”
“Didn’t sound like nothing to
me.”
“I said you’re a bitch! Alright,
ever since dad left you’ve just been so uptight!”
“Uptight? Excuse me? Who was one
hour late for dinner tonight? Who stayed over at that druggie’s house?!” Sharon
glared at Jack.
“Yeah, he snorts coke every once
in a while mom. Big whoop, we all have our flaws. Look at you, going to work at
all weird hours, not being at home for me. Not even telling me what you do for
work…it’s not like you work for the CIA or something. And like this morning.
School’s like a 10 minute walk away, that’s all. It’s not like if I miss the
bus it’s the end of the world. And is it such a monumental task for you to make
me some toast before I go off to school? Jesus, you are so uptight.” He whined.
“Since when did you become religious?”
“Since I could stop counting on
you.”
Sharon darted forward, grabbing
her son by his collar and pushed him up against the refrigerator.
“Since you could stop counting on
me? You counting on me? Jack you wouldn’t even be alive…without me. I pay for
your food, I cook your food, heck I even feed you your food. From now on,
you’re making your own breakfast. You get up late, it’s your own problem. I’m
sorry Jack, but I have helped you enough. It’s time you started relying a
little more on yourself.”
“You don’t feed me.” He mocked.
“Shut up! You are a sitting duck
without me Jack!” Sharon screamed into his face, digging her knuckles into his
shoulder, pushing him harder into the refrigerator. “All my life I had to fight
for what was mine! I was an only child and my own parents didn’t support me. I
had to pay for my food, for my education, for my rent, and everything!!! I was
on my own. My house was a shell!!! You were born with a silver spoon in your
mouth, you know that? Everything just handed to you. You beg for cereal, there
it is. You beg for an Xbox, there it is. When was the last time you went out
and had to work on the streets for even just 20 dollars huh? When did you ever
bend backward to achieve anything? I practically lived on the streets!”
“You’re pathetic. Dad would never
have said that. Everything was perfect till you started begging for that stupid
divorce!”
Sharon smacked Jack across his
cheek…he stumbled into the sink. “Ow.” He grimaced.
Her temper had gotten the better
of her. It had all gone too far. Jack was still her son.
“Jack…Jack?” her voice quivered
as she rushed forward. “Jack are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Jack grumbled and
swatted her hand away.
“Jack, I’m sorry.” She said,
placing a hand on his shoulder only to have it shaken off. “Jack, there’s still
dinner, I didn’t eat any of it. I’d never do that, not without you.” Sharon
shook her hands in denial. Her voice cracked up, and she choked on a sob. It
wasn’t long before she was on the ground, back to the wall, crying like a
child.
After another half an hour, Jack
came down, wearing a shirt with a picture of a busty blonde drinking a bottle
of Bud Light while simultaneously getting her buttocks licked by an inner city
thug. He wore baggy shorts and torn socks.
“So where’s the dinner?”
“On the table Jack…I’ll be right
there.” Sharon sniffled and stood up. She strode to the sink and took a minute
to wash her face, doing her best to wipe away all the dried up tears. Yet she
knew that there were many more sobs trapped inside.
Jack turned on the light in the
dining room, and pulled over the bowl of spaghetti that Sharon had set aside
for him.
“I used your favorite sauce. That
Prego thing you were telling me about.” She smiled, as she sat across the table
from him. “So…how was school?” Sharon asked, slurping up some pasta.
“You’ve got some sauce on your
lip…right there.” Jack pointed so meticulously.
“Oh, sorry…” Sharon smiled and
dabbed it away with her napkin. “So, like I was saying…school…how was it?
What’d you talk about?”
“You missed a spot, on the side
there.” He pointed again.
“Sorry.” She wiped.
“It’s still there.”
“Goddammit Jack!!! Can’t you see
I’m trying to have a conversation here?” Sharon threw up her hands in
exasperation.
“Yup, and try you will.”
“You know what?” Sharon fumed, “I
thought I knew you…when you were young and innocent. You were so sweet back
then. When your dad was around Jack, yes when dad was around. But now, you have
become ungrateful, disrespectful, and completely-“
Jack picked up his bowl and
turned to leave,
“Gonna go watch some TV.” He mumbled,
heading towards the living room.
“No you are not Jack! Jack get
your ass back here and sit down.”
“Make me.” He glared at her and
turned back towards the living room.
“Oh god, you are just hopeless.”
She scoffed, and put her fork down.
“Since when did you become
religious?” Jack asked from the room.
“Oh, shut up Jack!” she screamed,
slamming her fist on the table. The bowl rattled. She swirled some more pasta
around her fork and shoved it into her mouth. A small piece of the fork poked
out, cutting her lip as she put it in her mouth. “Aah!” she gasped, running to
the sink.
“Alright, look….if we’re going to
make any headway,” Sharon started, as she entered the living room, “we’re going
to need to establish some rules. Better ones.” She raised her eyebrows, staring
into the back of his head.
“Like what?” Jack asked, keeping
his eyes on the TV.
“Like this…” Sharon snuck over
and snatched the remote out of his lap and turned the TV off. “You can’t watch
TV when I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s disrespectful
Jack.” Sharon hissed, pulling over a chair. “It’s disrespectful, when someone’s
trying to reach out to you, for you to shut them out.”
“Well what if I don’t want you to
reach out to me?” Jack asked stubbornly.
“Well then that’s too bad. We’re
a family.”
“Hardly.” He scoffed turning back
to his pasta.
“Alright, that’s it.” She
snapped, and took the bowl from his hands.
“Hey!”
“Yeah, that’s a start. Hey, how’s
it going?” she asked, as she put the bowl in the sink.
“Great…I just have a question.”
He said…Sharon could smell the sarcasm on his voice.
“Yes, what is it?” she replied
with the most pretentious smile she could fathom.
“Why the heck did you take my
pasta away?”
“Well honey, it’s because in the
civilized world…when people try to talk to us…we talk back to them!!! We have
conversations!!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.
Jack sighed, giving in…”Alright,
look what do you want to talk about?” he asked, sighing.
“Well, let’s start with what you
did over at Brett’s house?”
“I don’t know…played video games.
Some Halo…” Jack shrugged it off.
“Which one?”
“What would you know?”
“Oh yeah, try me…Halo 4, where
you follow Master Chief’s story after the Forward Unto Dawn crashes…and
ironically another human ship on the Forerunner planet?”
“It’s called the Infinity. Him
and Cortana get the messages and everything.”
“Yeah, but they’re still caught
up in the gravity field so it pulls them in right?”
“How’d you know that?” he smiled.
That was a start.
“Oh come on, I’m only 43 Jack, I
can still keep up with your generation.”
Jack laughed lightly…
“Look, I wanted to tell you about
Brett…”
“Come on mom, we were having a
decent conversation for like-“
“Let me explain,” Sharon said softly,
raising her hands up as if in surrender, “ Look…Brett is not a bad guy. Okay?
His father seems like a decent guy. He has a wealthy back ground.”
“So that’s what it’s all about?
The money?” Jack scoffed slumping into the couch. Sharon resisted the urge to
scream again.
“No, it’s not. Brett just may not
be the BEST person for you to hang out with. I know you guys go to soccer
practice together, but lately…I’ve been hearing that his performance has been
slacking. Do you think that’s okay?”
“Look, I know what you’re getting
at. Brett’s a pothead, but he’s only been doing that for like a month alright?
It’s not that bad. There’s worse that could happen.”
“I know there’s worse that could
happen, and I’ve seen it happen myself. I don’t need to go into detail about it
either. All I’m saying is…stay safe. I honestly don’t think you need to hang
out with him as much as you do today.” Sharon said, her tone stern and her gaze
serious. “You play soccer with him and then you come home.”
“Screw that. I have something
good going, and you just have to shoot it down. Come on, what’s the worse
that’s going to happen huh?” he asked. “You think I’m going to become a
pothead?”
“No, but if you’re caught with
him…things could get ugly is all I’m getting at.”
“I hang out with him literally
every day, what do I say…’Oh Brett, I’m sorry…I know we’ve been hanging out a
lot. I just can’t hang out anymore, sorry dude.’ “
“Maybe Jack, maybe that’s what
you need to say…or you could be smarter and use the lies that you use on me…on
him. Come up with an excuse. You learned this sort of stuff in middle school
Jack. In sixth grade when they taught you how to get out of those stranger
danger situations.”
“Well, he’s not a stranger.”
“Who cares…try it. You won’t know
until you try.”
“Fine…I’ll tell him.” Jack said,
averting his eyes.
“I know this is hard for
you…alright.”
“Whatever…I’m tired.”
“Jack, it’s 8:30. Don’t you have
some homework to do?”
“No.”
“Jack? Come on.”
“It’s just a little worksheet,
that’s all” he said, shaking his head as he left the living room.
“Well then it should be fairly
easy for you to complete then shouldn’t it?”
Sharon had picked the right
battle, and she had won. Sometimes she could say quite honestly, that being a
single mother was far more taxing than being a gun for hire. She groaned out of
exhaustion as she pulled the covers over her body. She could still feel her
Glock under her pillow as she adjusted her head. A constant reminder of who she
was…or did it really have to be? Who was she truly? A question she often asked
herself before going to bed. A mother or a cold blooded killer?
The morning routine was usual,
with Sharon yelling at Jack yet again to get ready for the bus and him
grumbling yet complying. But as promised, Jack had to make his own
breakfast…and he did; he even managed to clean job, but at the end of the day
Sharon knew that she had to keep pushing.
“Come on, let’s go…today!!!”
Sharon snapped as Jack hurried to the door. “Love you.” She waved, with of
course, the usual reciprocal frown.
She hadn’t gotten any phone calls
yet…a free day perhaps?
And as if to ruin her mood, her
phone buzzed again,
“Hello?”
“We’ve got some bad seeds. Two
actually. I’ll need the first one out by tonight.”
“Name?”
“Barry Lansing. He drives a
Mercedes C-Class…Black…License plate reads ACENSHUN. Seems like a fanatic to
me. What do you say Sharon?”
“Cut the crap and keep it
secular. Where, and when?”
“Ah, I really do admire women who
can make the distinction between business and personal matters. But come on
Sharon, we really haven’t gotten to know each other beyond the weapon of your
preference. Please indulge me a little.” He teased.
“Give me a location and a time,
or else I’m not doing it.”
“Very well, very well. You really
aren’t very fun Sharon. Lincoln Plaza…lot 4…6:00 PM. It’s a C240. I’ll text you
the picture. Fancy car, wish I could drive it. Take care Sharon.” He finished
and the line cut.
That meant no dinner for Jack.
Hey Sweetie, I won’t be home for
dinner okay? I’ll leave some money on the counter. Buy yourself some pizza.
Love you J
She sent the text.
Her target would be in the car.
An up close and personal kill. She couldn’t make it messy. Too much of a hassle
to clean up a car with brain and chunks of skull spattered all over it.
Sharon opened the glove
compartment of her Camry and pulled out her garrote wire, stretching it an
getting her hands around it. She hadn’t used it in over a year and contemplated
its efficacy given her lack of practice…but if her training was any good it
should work.
She’d learned to evade car alarms
quite easily. It was one of her fortes. She picked the lock and slid inside,
into the backseat, and slumped down. She was wearing her kill clothes: Tight
black leather fabric that hugged her curves and reminded her of her excellent
physique. She had to admit that it did a good job of enunciating her breasts.
Too bad her victim wouldn’t have time to marvel at her anatomical perfection.
No time to waste…
10 minutes passed…20 minutes
passed…30 minutes…45…still no sign…What could it be?
Suddenly, the glass shattered
behind her…ears ringing Sharon turned around to see a bullet hole clearly
visible in the rear windshield.
She rolled forward…into the
driver’s seat.
Another bullet tore through the
rear windshield and bore into the dashboard. Sharon hadn’t brought her pistol.
She kicked the compartment
beneath the steering wheel and found the two crucial wires to hotwire the car.
Another bullet…and another…and
another rained in on the car.
The wires buzzed and crackled and
the car roared to life. She shifted into reverse and sped backwards until she
hit the turn. In the background she heard a few shots ping off the trunk, but her
car swerved just in time.
Sharon could only thank the
higher powers for not being pulled over. She stayed a consistent 20 miles above
the speed limit until she hit the city’s outskirts. In the distance was an
unoccupied construction site. Besides a few power lines there was nobody in
sight.
Her phone buzzed.
“Hello Sharon.” her employer
mocked.
“You think this is some kind of
joke? I almost got killed!!!”
“Yes…quite frankly it is.”
“You very distinctly told me that
my target would be in that car.”
“I did…and I told him I was very
unhappy with him. I assure you I gave him no indication whatsoever that you
specifically would be there to hunt him down. Looks like he got a bit cautious.
My apologies.”
“Screw your apology.” Sharon
hissed into the phone. “Who hired the sniper?”
“Oh it was probably Lansing...perhaps
it was me…it’s really just need to know information that you do not need to
know. It was a test Sharon…and you passed. I put all my employees through
tests, don’t all companies do that. Now…I can tell you this much...the man who
tried to kill you is of real interest. He is quite adept…”
“Jesus Christ, you hired him
didn’t you? You sick bastard!”
“I play my games when I see fit.
Now the more time we waste here, the closer he gets to your home…to your
son…you left some money on the counter…for pizza?”
“Son of a bitch!” She yelled into
her phone. “You leave my son out of this!” she kicked the car door.
“Now, then…the more we talk, the
closer he gets…Now…I wanted to add. I have in the trunk, since you passed your
test which I planned…another dossier. Information on your next target, an
advance notice you could say. I wouldn’t look at it now if I were you. Get busy
getting home.” He chuckled and hung up.
“Bastard!” she yelled, and got
into her car.
The buildings melted into their
surroundings and pedestrians along with them. She didn’t know how she did it or
what she went through to accomplish it, but in 10 minutes she was back on her
street. Sharon pulled over four houses in front of her’s and got her Garotte
wire ready…it was going to be a tight fight.
She jogged over to her house and
entered through the back door of the garage. From there, she opened the door
leading into the house, pushing it open slowly.
“Jack?!” she called out. “Jack?!”
Sharon went further, entering the kitchen. She turned to the counter. The bills
were still there. It was nearing 6:30. Jack should have returned. She had told
him very clearly to be back.
Panicking, Sharon turned around
to face a 6’2 burly man in a leather jacket.
“Why didn’t you die bitch?” he
snarled, and reached around behind his jacket. Sharon saw it coming. She dove
forward, sprawling towards his waist. Taken by surprise, he lost balance and
stumbled, falling on his back. His arm was trapped underneath him, fingering
the gun. Sharon didn’t give him a chance. She leaped onto his shoulders driving
her knees into them. She grabbed his throat and pressed in with her thumb,
choking him. He thrust up with his hips, and Sharon tumbled over his head. In a
split second the large man was on his knees and had the gun out front. Sharon
was too quick, she drop-kicked the gun out of his hand and pounced onto her
feet. Her attacker was large, one of his biggest disadvantages. Too slow to get
on his feet, he suffered another of Sharon’s scathing kicks to his temple.
Sharon dove for the gun and snatched it
off the ground. As she turned to aim it at him, the man was already on top of
her. Using her Jujitsu skills, Sharon dragged his left arm in, and locked her
left leg over his neck, locking it with her right. She squeezed. Sharon’s legs
were sinewy and strong…her greatest advantage. The man flushed, his temples
bulging from the pressure. His eyes bulged and his neck was tensed. She
squeezed harder. The man’s eyes rolled into his head. She squeezed harder.
Finally, his body grew limp, and she released him, letting him fall onto her.
With much
effort, Sharon slid out from underneath, and took hold of the gun. She trained
it on his head. Her knuckles whitened as she clasped it tightly. Her finger
closed around the trigger. The blood…the mess…the evidence…she couldn’t do it. Sharon
dropped the pistol. It fired on impact…The bullet tore through the man’s head,
and through the wall behind him. Blood sprayed across her pants and her shows
were covered with bits and pieces of skull and brain.
Her phone buzzed…a text from
Jack.
Hey Mom…can I stay at Brett’s a
little later tonight…I promise we won’t screw around…I promise. Love you J
Considering the fact that she had
a 6’2 trained assassin, dead as he was, in her house…Sharon had no choice but
to acquiesce.
Yes…just be careful… be home
before midnight J
She sent the text.
There was no plastic bag, or
duffel bag large enough to hold a man his size. She had to chop him.
Sharon had once castrated a
man…alive…so butchering a man who was dead was no issue for her. The problem
was just finding the right knife…All her knives were too flimsy. Wal-mart was
20 minutes away…or she could ask her neighbor…If anything was found she could
put it on her.
Sharon took off her bloodied kill
clothes. Somehow standing naked over a dead man aroused Sharon...
In just minutes she’d changed
into her every-day clothes and put her kill clothes in a plastic bag.
Sharon went to her neighbor
Frank’s house.
“Hey Frank, listen, I’m carving
some turkey tonight…my knives are just way to flimsy…you got any one of those
heavy duty ones? Got to get in around the bone. ”
“Uhh…yeah…sure come in.”
“Thanks Frank, it means a lot.
How’s Jean by the way?”
“Oh she’s doing well.” Frank went
into the pantry, and came back with a 4
inch butcher knife. “This’ll probably work.”
“Thanks Frank.” She smiled and
hurried back to her house.
Sharon ended up cutting the body
into 13 pieces and stuffed them into trash bags. She bleached the floor and saw
to it that she left it looking good as new.
Upstairs were three duffel bags
that she normally kept for vacation purposes. She stuffed the trash bags into
the duffel bags, and zipped them up.
Sharon brought the Mercedes into
the garage. She opened the trunk and stuffed the duffel bags in, taking out the
dossier that her employer had left for her.
Theodore Russell…Brett’s father.
He would be returning home tomorrow at about 3:30, alone.
Her phone buzzed, a call…from her
employer…
“Good job Sharon. I knew you
could handle him. I’ll tell you what…drive over to the Bay Bridge. It’s about
20 minutes from your house. There’ll be a silver Mitsubishi Outlander waiting
there for you. Give the duffel bags to them. I assure you I have no intention
of exposing you to the police. That would only implicate me.
Sharon drove over to the
designated location, quite relaxed. Her heart had stopped pounding and her
breathing was smooth. Nothing to make her look suspicious at first sight. As
promised, there was an Outlander parked on the side of the Bay Bridge, and
Sharon pulled up behind it, flashing her lights.
The trunk opened, and Sharon
hoisted the bags into the trunk. Cars sped by beside them along the
bridge. It did surprise her how in such
broad daylight, three duffel bags didn’t even arouse the suspicion of the
passerby. Perhaps they were travelling too fast to care?
Sharon returned home, to find
Jack sitting, watching TV.
“Hi honey.” She smiled, and
kissed his head. “Did you have fun?”
“Uhhhh….ooohhhh….yaaaaaaa….”
he drawled, a stream of saliva running from his lip.
“Jack?” Sharon asked, coming
around to get a better look at him. “Jack, what happened…”
“Wwwwweeeee….haaadddd…ffffuuunnnn!!!”
Jack smiled a very delirious smile, and his head slumped to a side as he
continued to watch TV.
“You lying twat!” Sharon yelled,
kicking his sofa. “I trusted you!” she yelled. “I trusted that you’d be careful
and be safe and this is what you give me?! After all we went through…just
yesterday?!!!”
“Whaaaaatttt?”
“Jesus Christ Jack, you’re high.
You’re goddamn high! You know what? That’s it…I’m done with you. I AM DONE!”
she yelled and stormed upstairs.
After all she’d been through.
Sharon thought she’d slipped in through the cracks of the rock like heart of
her son. Yet all she’d done was slip…further and further away. There was no
hope.
Sharon didn’t bother to wake up
her son. It was his life now…she had a job to do. Money to make, and his mouth
to feed but beyond that she had no responsibility for him.
“Good bye mom!” Jack smiled as he
left, but Sharon didn’t bother to answer.
He slowly turned, head pointed
down and jogged off toward the bus.
She left some money on the
counter again, and a quick note telling Jack she might be home for dinner.
3:30 came…quite expectedly.
Sharon was ready to go. She was sitting in Theodor’s living room, the window
open at her back. To her right was a large king size bed on which Theodore and
his wife probably copulated nightly. To her left was the bathroom door.
Her pistol, was ready…the assassin’s
was stuffed in the glove compartment of the Cadillac…Sharon screwed the
silencer onto the pistol, and sat waiting. As anticipated, at 3:28 she heard
the lock opening. Today would be the end of Brett Russell’s corrupt father.
3:29, he took off his shoes and climbed the stairs…3:30…Sharon saw that it
wasn’t Theodore Russell…it was Brett…he saw her. She saw him.
“Uh….Mrs. Benson?...” his voice
quivered. The boy who’d drugged her son. Yet still a teenager. Still a
butterfly that was cocooning. But what
abomination would come out? He had hurt her son. But had he meant to? They were
just kids. Kids who had made bad decisions. He had hurt her son. He had hurt
her son. He had hurt her son.
Sharon fired.
The bullet ripped through Brett’s
skull and spewed pieces of his skull onto the wall.
Sharon let out a deep breath, her
hands shaking. All these years, killing had been a childs play…yet today…today
she could not look into the eyes of her target…no into the eyes of the 17 year
old boy that she’d murdered in desperation. She’d killed a boy young enough to
be her son. Did it really make a difference that he wasn’t her child by blood?
A sob crept up her throat and
Sharon fought it. She fought with all her might to keep it down. Her face
reddened, and her eyes watered, and she threw aside her gun, falling to the
ground in tears.
“Nooooo!!!!” she screamed. The
cruel sound came again…her phone vibrated…
“Hello Sharon…I thought I’d help
you out a little bit haha. Theodore will
be home shortly I promise. There must have been a little typo on the dossier I
gave you.”
“You sick son of a bitch!!! He
was 17!!” Sharon yelled into the phone.
“Quiet now. Wasn’t it you who had
a problem with him to begin with. With your son spending time with him.”
“What have you done?” Sharon’s
chest heaved with each sob.
“I keep tabs on all my employees.
Make sure their lives are working out exactly as they will them to. Look at the
bright side. He’s no longer an obstruction to your son’s development.”
“Shut up! Shut up! I killed a boy…I
killed a baby boy…”
“Now, Now, Sharon…he wasn’t quite
a baby. He was a teenager who should’ve very well been aware of his misdoings.”
“Screw you!” she yelled, closing
phone.
It was another three hours of
pain, misery, and sorrow until Theodore showed up…alone as the dossier had
said.
She waited behind the door
leading into the garage. It opened. Theodore walked in. Sharon pulled out a
Garrote Wire, and wrapped it around his neck pulling with all her strength. Her
muscles bulged as the wire cut into Theodore’s neck. Yet it wasn’t Theodore
she was killing. It was herself. Her
cruelty, her disgrace, her lack of dignity…everything about herself that Sharon
hated she killed. Theodore’s eyes bulged, and slid a little out of their
sockets. His neck was nearly an hourglass by the time Sharon torqued the wire
and snapped his neck once and for all.
“Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!” She screamed,
staring up at the ceiling. “Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!”
“Mom….” Jack shuffled into the
house.
“Hi honey.” Sharon said gently, hurrying
up to him. Jack didn’t bother to look up. She quickly closed the door, and put
an arm around his shoulder. “Hey…hey…look at me…what happened?”
Jack looked up at her and his
eyes were red with tears, his cheeks flushed.
“Oh…baby…” she coaxed and pulled
his head against her shoulder, embracing him. His whole body shook as he
sobbed.
“He’s dead mom…and his dad…Brett
was shot…weapon was untraceable so they’ll never find out who did it. Whoever
did it cleaned up so good that we can’t even find the bastard!!”
“Shhh…shhh…I know, I know…”
Sharon said and lightly kissed his forehead.
“You don’t know mom! You knew
nothing!!! He was my best friend!! He was the one guy who stuck up for me in
school when shit went down. He was the one guy who stuck his neck out for me.
All you ever wanted was for me to stop hanging out with him. So what if he did
a few drugs?”
“I was scared Jack…for you…”
“No…you didn’t give a shit about
me!” he sobbed into her shoulder, his face red with anger, vengeance, and
frustration. “I’m gonna find whoever did this. I’m gonna find that person…and
I’m gonna kill them!”
“No you won’t…no you won’t baby…”
she said softly, and kissed his head, running her hands through his hair.
“Yes I will!!! I’m going to see
this through!!! Aaaaah!!!” he screamed.
A tear rolled down Sharon’s cheek
and it wasn’t long before she too broke down into a volley of sobs, embracing
her son even tighter.
“Leave me alone!!!” he yelled. “I
want to be alone! Go!!!”
“Okay, okay honey…I’m going to
go…”
Sharon got into the Cadillac, and
pulled it out onto the main road. She returned and took her Camry.
It was a rainy day. The clouds
were gray, and the breeze was cold. A very gray summer day. Life just seemed to
move that much slower. People walked slower, cars moved slower, and traffic
lights seemed to take forever to change. Sharon bought some groceries to pass
time. Mostly things they didn’t need.
It was 10:00 by the time she
returned.
“Jack? Jack, honey I’m home.” She
said, walking in with her bag of groceries. No answer. “ Jack?”
She turned her head, and what she
saw shocked her to say the least.
Jack lay on the ground, with a
half filled cup of bleach in his hand. His eyes stared up at the ceiling.
“Jack!!!” Sharon yelled, dropping
her groceries and running to his side. His left hand was clenched around
something. She forced it open. Inside, she found the bullet. The one that’d
killed the assassin. It was still stained with blood. Under his left hand was a
note…
My mother is a liar, a hypocrite, and a murderer…what’s the use living
this life?
“Oh my god Jack!!!” Sharon
sobbed, pulling his head up to her chest, and hugging him close…” Jack!!!” she
yelled, pressing her lips against his head. “Jack, I’m so sorry…”
“You should be…” a voice said.
Sharon spun around, and from the shadows strode a hulking figure…he flicked the
switch it was none other than Todd…
“Todd?” Sharon said, shocked, her
grip on Jack loosening. “Todd…this…was you?”
“No Sharon…it was you. Your son’s
not dead, I assure. He drank that Bleach just about 6 minutes before you
arrived. You’ve got time.”
“It was you the whole
time…playing me like a pawn!!”
“Not the whole time. I think you
forget my job in the Consulate office. You know Sharon, at first I just thought
you were working heavy overtime. Then I got suspicious. That’s when I started
digging, and whoopee, I traced it back to nothing. I had you followed and it
all led back to that guy. So I found that guy and I killed that guy. Then I
took his place. It was too late by that point Sharon, you had it coming.
Thought you could play me all that time? Thought you had the upper hand?!!.”
Todd hissed at her. “You had the nerve to ask for that divorce. Now look what
you’ve done to your own son.”
“He’s your son too!!!” Sharon
yelled.
“Not anymore!”
Sharon leapt to her feet…”Todd,
look at me! Forget about me, and what I did. I’ll suffer for that later. This
is Jack we’re talking about.”
“Oh, he’s your responsibility now
Sharon. You wanted to keep him all to yourself didn’t you?”
“Todd, I’m sorry.” Sharon sobbed,
putting her hands on his chest, and begging. “Todd, please let me just get
help.” She tried to step around him but Todd cut her off with a bulky arm.
“You have 5 minutes before he
dies…if support arrives in time, he lives. If you get through me…then you can
do as you wish.
“Oh you bastard!!! You sick
twisted son of a bitch!!!” she yelled, slamming her fists on his chest. He
grabbed her hands, and tightened his grip around her wrists.
“Keep hitting me like that and
I’ll break both your wrists.” he said coldly,
Sharon calmed down. Her breathing
slowed, and her rage focused on one thing…getting Todd out of the way. She
aimed a solid kick toward his groin which Todd fell victim to.
“Gaaah!” He yelled doubling over.
Sharon freed her hands and aimed a roundhouse kick at his ribs, knocking him
further back. Todd reared and pounced at Sharon, knocking her off her feet. She
arched her back to cushion the impact and eased herself down. Todd forced
himself over her, but she had her legs locked round his ribs. She pressed in
with her knees and dug into his ribs.
“Aaaacchchhh!!!” he gurgled, and
punched her stomach. It was as if a brick had hit her, her eyes seemed to bulge
out of their sockets, and she struggled to breathe. Still, Sharon wrapped her
arm around Todd’s neck, putting him in a headlock, and squeezing with her legs.
He stood up, and threw himself down against the sofa, Sharon’s back slammed
into the armrest. “Aaah!” she yelped, but clung on. She squeezed harder, and
dug deeper with her knees. Soon enough Todd stopped struggling, and he
collapsed just as the assassin had done. Sharon wasted no time in sliding out…
and rushing to the phone.
“Hello, yes…this is Sharon
Benson. My son just consumed about a half a cup of bleach. He’s on the
ground…unconscious…I don’t know. He isn’t responding…please help!!!” Sharon
yelled desperately into the phone.
She did her best to put up with
their volley of questions…and sat in anticipation, until the ambulance showed
up.
“Here, right here…” Sharon
pointed. “This man…he’s my ex husband. He forced my son into it. He forced him
to attempt suicide.” She gestured. The medics picked up Jack and hoisted him
onto the stretcher and carried him into the ambulance.
“Mrs. Benson?” The nurse smiled
at her in the waiting room.
“Yes…is my son…”
“I was just going to tell you.”
She said softly, “he’s doing fine. They managed to pump his stomach…I will tell
you he is weak right now. So I strongly advise that you do not converse for
long. But otherwise, you are free to see him and talk.”
The nurse led her back to Jack’s
room. He had an IV packet hooked up to him and a vitals monitor connected to
his chest. On his table was a small glass of milk.
“Hey baby…” Sharon smiled as she
strode over. She moved his hair back, and kissed his forehead. “How’re you
feeling?”
“Tired.” Jack smiled weakly.
“Well, that’s expected.
Everything’s gonna be okay. Doctors said you’ll be fine.”
“I know mom. They told me too.”
Sharon stifled a sob, staring into
her son’s eyes. He had her eyes. Deep and blue and pure. They were gentle eyes.
“I’m just glad you’re okay that’s
all.” Sharon said, voice cracking up. Still, she swallowed her sobs and kept a
smiling face.
“Thanks mom…”
“Well, I’ll be just outside if
you need me.” She said, turning to leave.
“Wait, mom?”
“Yes honey?”
“I had a dream…while I was you
know…under and everything…”
“A dream…”
“These hands…they were pulling
me…these big dark hands. I tried to get them off but I just couldn’t. I wrestled
them, but they were too strong. I called out for help…and that’s when you came.
You were kinda glowing…all nice and shiny and I could feel it. You hardly even
stepped near me but their grip was already loosening. Then you gave me your
hand, and I took it…and I just felt this warm feeling…it went straight through
me…to my heart. It touched me there. It was so…I don’t’ know…so pure…like all
this love just hit me. I grabbed on with my other hand and I felt even better.
Before I knew it, you were pulling me away from there. I was crying….’cause I
was so happy. Happier than I’ve ever been before. And you rescued me. You
pulled me outta that rut and that’s when I woke up.” Jack smiled, a tear
rolling down his cheek.
Sharon couldn’t hold it back
anymore. She burst into tears, her shoulders shaking with each sob. But she too
like her son had…was crying tears of joy. The tears flowed down her cheeks, around her lips and into her mouth. Yet as
salty as they were, they felt so sweet. That pure joy…that genuine warmth was
something that neither had felt in a long time. Yet here they were, together as
she’d always wished, with nothing but love between them.
