By Kristina L.S.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part One... Blossom... def... bloom, unfold.
It was a chilly and drizzly early Winters day which didn't really fit her mood. Sure she was a little sad but basically her thoughts spun on the idea of freedom. She could not in all honesty say she was sorry he'd died, not at all, though she probably would have the odd moment where she would think fondly of him. Especially as she was his sole heir and the pathetic old queen was damn rich. Not BRW rich list rich, but after 20 mill who's counting. Some might she guessed, but it was enough for her.
A small hiccup sounded as she bit down on a laugh at the image she must present. The grieving young widow, except she wasn't grieving or widow and she wasn't really a she, though that was near enough now. The black ensemble, below the knee dress, stockings and heels, careful makeup. The hooded Issey Miyake cashmere coat. She eschewed a brolly though the dozen or so mourners mostly had them. Lifting her face to the cool mist she stared into the grey feeling the droplets on her eyes and skin and smiled slightly. Most here had known him as one thing and thought her to be something other than she was. Two men to her left knew much more.
The coat hood lay back on her shoulders and droplets glistened on her glossy dark brown hair and the rich fabric as she nodded to the few whispered condolences and waited. Which one she wondered and turned to face them, the last two at the grave side. Here to see off 'Solicitor'.
The taller one, 'Judge', aristocratic of bearing, the perfect tailored suit and styled silver grey hair. Craggy features that looked stern and serious even when he smiled. His smiles still chilled her years later... and those cold grey blue eyes that held no hint of warmth. How did no one see she wondered not for the first time and shrugged at the pointlessness of reminiscing and whatif's. What is, is and what will be...well. The second, 'Inspector', not as tall or as stylish, though seemingly warmer on the surface and with a very useful little glint in his warmer blues, coupled with a soft and gentle manner. Ah he had fooled her at first, but he too was a monster, two of many. Another memory flitted in, she was sitting on the lounge some years back watching a movie with Mr Wilkie, it was 'Aliens' and the little girl had stated very matter of fact to Ripley... people say there aren't really monsters, but there are aren't there... and she had burst out laughing and could not stop as tears of mirth ran down her face. Mr Wilkie had got in a huff as she shook her head and refused to explain and just laughed until finally he had turned it off and left her there, walking out as she kept laughing almost hysterically as she brushed absently at remembered bruises and past welts.
Fear stroked her as these two reptiles looked her up and down and she shivered and smiled, times and people change don't they. Well she had, others she doubted could or would. A small shiver crawled up her spine as their eyes crawled over her and she smiled slightly at the perverse pleasure it gave her. Like brushing through spider webs in the dark. Which one?
Judge stepped forward... ah, might have known... his voice just above a whisper still cut through her like a razor and as the shivers grew so did her smile.
"Well my dear, look at you, a picture of dutiful mourning." His expression didn't change though she could feel the sneer.
" I really don't understand why Robert kept you all these years. Not to mention indulge your whims. Still he always was a little weak. I don't see the attraction myself but be that as it may. He kept the faith with the group and we... allowed his indulgence. So my dear you may do as you will and live your life quite comfortably I believe. Don't be a fool and we will ignore you, I'm sure you understand. "
She stretched and let a small moan escape her lips as the terror washed over her, he mistook it's meaning of course as he stopped almost against her. His right hand pressed against her dress and cupped the last remnant of who she had been.
"No I don't really see the attraction, still it could be an interesting diversion. Sadly that loss of innocence is irreversible and now neither one thing or the other... tsk, Robert should have disposed of you years ago " he made a small sound like a cough and his face showed his contempt as his hand squeezed and a small cruel smile twisted his face and lit a flame in those eyes.
Nothing showed on her face as he increased the pressure and her right hand lifted slowly to his left that rested on her arm in apparent sympathy. Without any change of expression she gripped his pinky and wrenched up and out, smiling as a squeal of pain and outrage greeted her. She released his hand and her arm continued its arc and the edge of her elbow smashed the bridge of his nose, dropping him stunned to the ground at her feet. She stepped back to avoid getting blood on her coat and turned to face 'Inspector' who had begun to move.
Raising a finger in a stop gesture she flicked a DVD to him. He caught it and glanced at the 'post it' stuck on the front. It read.. touch me this goes to every editor and Current Affairs producer in Sydney. He glanced back at her and as she had guessed he would, stuck it in his jacket pocket and kept coming. The raised compact pistol with the long cylinder on its pointy end stopped him. She smiled again and shot him in the left foot. He made no sound but dropped to the side gripping his bloody shoe and glared at her.
"Come after me, I will kill you, all of you. If I so much as see one of you or even catch a cold I will kill you. All of you. Do you understand?"
"Fuck y.." he didn't finish as the second phhfft smashed into his foot again, this time passing through one of the hands wrapped over it. He groaned softly and glared at her.
"Do You Understand?"
He nodded trying not to show the fear as she stepped forward crouching and pressed the muzzle to his groin noting absently the small wisp of smoke as the fabric singed. She pressed and stared into his eyes.
"I am no longer afraid of you, any of you. Nor am I your plaything any more", this with a glance to 'Judge' watching from a pace away.
"Leave me be and I will ignore you... come after me you die. Try to cover things or perhaps manage to kill me you will be destroyed. Mr Wilkie left me very comfortable and knowledgeable and I am not the lost and scared child you once.... played with. "
Judge spat through the blood, contempt warring with fear as she lifted the pistol his way and stood, stepping back.
"Robert was a weak fool, we should have buried you years ago. Stalemate, leave us be and you will be left alone. You have my word."
"Ah such benevolence, it is so tempting to leave you both lying here with your brains leaking into the dirt. But yes, mutual, a stand-off. Keep your word and I will. Goodbye."
She pocketed the pistol and turned away lifting the hood and without a backward glance strolled into the misting rain.
…. to be continued... if there's interest. I'm winging it as a way to try and write, so... as there's something dark in the water of late I thought I'd toss this in the back of the wagon and watch it bounce around..... possibly 5 pieces.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part Two... Creation... def... genesis, conception.
The soft misty rain dampened everything except her mood. Her thoughts returned to that day where she had truly been born. An abstract, a conceit, still incomplete but the funeral and the events immediately afterwards had set things in motion to where she stood at this moment. A small wry smile that she should think of that now, the weather she supposed, the rain triggering a memory link. Not much was the same other than that.
She turned and to any observer casually checked the street and the entrance to the bar ahead before crossing the road.
"Just the chrysalis that day Cassandra, a fledgling, but well and truly matured now", she whispered to herself, with a wry smile. It occurred to her she had been wearing this very coat that day six years ago. Quality and style she smiled to herself and fluffed the lapels against her cheeks, entered the doorway scanning the room with a casual glance... game on.
A cursory glance showed little had changed from her recce earlier, the small magnetic collar clipped over the coaxial cable made the black plastic dome on the ceiling useless, there were a few more people and a bit more noise. But that was good for her. Her target was still seated in the centre section with small partitions breaking it from the surround, a bunch of tables but this one on the edge, perfect. Four early to mid thirties women getting slightly tipsy as they gossiped and laughed together. Friends, but one with a secret.
Bad for her. Too late for her.
" A glass of the Pipers Brook Pinot please." She dropped a ten and smiled at the barman, tasted as she surveyed the room and noted movement... or lack of, gestures and body language. Sipped casually for a few minutes and just... felt the surroundings. All good, no wrong vibrations. Judged the timing and space. Smiled softly as her eyes ran back and forth, measuring... counting. Set the glass on the bar and moved as things aligned... counting. Three steps, the small Beretta with a silencer that doubled it's length held in her left hand and angled across her body. Masked by the flowing coat she gripped the silencer through the coat pocket with her right. Four more steps and measured the angles as her target began to rise to buy another bottle it appeared, laughing at some comment. A small cough missed in the background noise and a gentle exclamation from someone at a seeming stumble. The women rose to help their friend as she slipped and fell. Bustle and talk as people circled to help or look and it was eight seconds before the first small scream as she guessed blood had been seen.
Stopping on the footpath outside she heard the level of commotion increase as it became clear to those at the scene something more than a simple fall had... happened and the ripples spread outward. With a quick survey behind using her compact she touched up her lips, noting the guy rather agitatedly gesturing and blathering at a mobile that stumbled out behind her. A few steps to be clear and smiling she slid the compact and then the Beretta into her shoulder bag slung underneath her coat and casually walked away. Her gloved hands gripped the coat lapels against the evening chill and she shivered as the tingle of released tension crawled up her neck and across her scalp.
Ten minutes later she sat sipping the same Pinot in her hotel room and gazed at the lights in the park opposite. Six years, and much to her surprise she had seen no follow up from the Judge or Inspector, or any others of the group or those working for them. She had, if she honestly thought about it, been disappointed. They had not contacted her or as far as she knew tried to hinder her. Though admittedly that would have been very hard. Their own blind conceit made it very unlikely that they even knew her name now, she had to all intents and purposes, disappeared. Cassandra Shade, apt as she was a ghost in a very real sense. One of their victims before her, unwanted and not missed, like most that they took and used. Age almost exact, a forgotten name, except to Mr Wilkie who had kept records of everything. Now it was hers. The only memorial the lost girl would ever likely have.
But earlier, she had another, a boys name. Nine years old and unwanted. Taken from care by a seeming gentle man. Mr Wilkie, though once beyond sight he was not gentle, not in the slightest... and his friends even less so. Terror and pain had been his life for four years... humiliation and shame. But everything changes. Others had come and gone, boys and girls though mostly boys, something he did not understand at the time and she still didn't. Always children, eight, nine, ten years old. By the age of twelve he had been left alone as Mr Wilkie no longer looked at him the way he once had. A thing that saddened the child for some reason and even more strangely shamed him that he was sad and that had made him cranky. Mostly he was just.... quiet. The others of the group largely ignored him except on one occasion to muse idly as to why he was still alive and living comfortably in Roberts house, something no other had managed, there or elsewhere, as he knew from personal observation. Luck or something like it, death was no unseen thing here. He probably should have been chilled at that conversation, but it was really only of passing interest, everybody dies, some earlier than others. Just how it was, it didn't really matter and nobody cared, that he knew.
Mr Wilkie had muttered about the the boy helping him about the house. 'What a maid?' Judge had scoffed and a few days later his clothes disappeared and uniform skirts and blouses with 'the maid' embroidered across the left breast appeared. Stockings and heels and makeup with strict instructions to look the part of a female, just like a girl working in housekeeping at a big hotel. So 'she' had. Over time Mr Wilkie had come to rely on her and she became almost invisible, especially she took care to be so to the others. She learned and grew and by the age of nineteen with his contacts was almost fully female. She did not understand why he had kept her, allowed her to learn, even less made her his heir. Perhaps it was to assuage his guilt at what he had been part of and still was.
For her part she used his indulgence to train herself and learn, everything. Unsurprising perhaps she leant heavily on the art of survival. Martial skills of all sorts and the most talented tutors that money could provide. Languages and finance, she was an apt pupil. He had set her on a path and watched her master it. She wondered not for the first time if he perhaps wished for a slightly different outcome.
Shrugging slightly with a bark of laughter at foolish memories she leant down and slid her laptop from the bag against the chair leg. Opened, switched it on and waited for it to boot. Logged through the encryption program and checked into the secure mail. Contract finalised, payment of account complete. She logged into the secure server of the Cook Islands bank where her Nauru registered Company Chiaroscuro Consulting had it's account. A small smile curved her lips as she noted a fresh twenty thousand deposit. A few minutes later she had transferred Five thousand to a small bank in Hong Kong. Commission paid, sent a brief note and shut down the computer.
"Nice work if you can get it eh Cassie", she smiled to herself and toasted the universe. It was an interesting journey. The old expression , what did not kill you made you stronger, seemed true enough. Money and knowledge had made it possible. Once probate was complete she had liquidated all Mr Wilkie's assets and fourteen months later had disappeared to reappear fifteen months later again as Cassandra and completely female and gorgeous as Singapore surgeons could manage.
Not sure you balanced the books there Robert Wilkie, but it's a start. She raised her glass once more.
A small laugh bubbled up as she sipped the soft red wine. It was curious what Oleander sap could do.
"Cheers Solicitor."
... to be continued... if there's interest. I'm winging it as a way to try and write, so...
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part Three... Crease... def... overlap, wrinkle.
She patted aloe gel into her left cheek and examined it carefully. A little puffy but it might not bruise. Damn that kid was quick. The pair of them, young triad punks lined up by Master Chung as he tried to set them straight, keep them out of the gangs. She couldn't help but have a wry smile at that one, she might not be directly gang related but she was hardly straight. Still they probably didn't know that, not many did. The walk back up from Chinatown was a little slower than coming down and a hot shower was definitely in order.
Clicked off the blow dryer and fluffed her hair, fixed her make up, checked the cheek and shrugged. Adjusted her clothing and scanned the room quickly. That had been a hell of a workout, those two macho little punks were good but she guessed slightly less condescending than they were now. She was damn good too. It was good to catch up with Master Chung, he was an amazing man and had helped her a great deal over the years. He might be in his sixties but no way would she take him on for real. Training sure and he kicked her arse, she chuckled at that. Getting ones butt kicked was good for you now and then. Character building, kept you on your toes.
The Sheraton Doorman swung her C63 AMG Mercedes onto the apron of the hotel and with a sigh opened the door to climb out, he saw some nice cars but this one would really suit him, he doubted he could afford the steering wheel, let alone the car. Navy blue rather than the more common cream, silver or black and not this exact model, all style with a kick. Just like it's owner, damn she'd suit him too, but no chance.
She slipped her laptop bag into the rear passenger seat well and closed the door, turning to the porter and handed him a ten as he placed her two bags in the boot and gently closed it and then the doorman a twenty as he handed her the keys with a smile then turned slightly to look enviously at the car. She almost laughed.
"Nice isn't it."
"Oh yes, I wouldn't mind one at all."
"It was a toss up, this or the BMW 520 M, this is 'darker', has more kick, zero to a hundred k in under five seconds. A wolf in sheep's clothing, rather suits me I think."
"Oh hell yes, baa baa blue sheep, dark works for me", and he chuckled and bowed to her.
With a delighted laugh she smiled as he tipped his hat and pursed his lips at the growl from the exhaust as she hit the start button, a hundred and fifty grand and it's yours me old mate. She smiled again and pulled out slowly into the Elizabeth Street city traffic.
Flipped the control for the sound system and blinked as ..'.I'm a single lady, I'm a single lady oh oh oh... oh oh oh... '…., after a couple of seconds she flicked the toggle again and took a deep breath as she was washed by the soulful strains of Miles Davis from In a Silent Way. Bloody car park attendants, radio, I left it on CD. Damn... that song, ack, maybe I should make a quick trip to LA and shoot that silly bitch. Come on Cassie, relax girl... The slow traffic split and she veered right at the end of the park at St James Station to swing up onto Macquarie Street and sat waiting for a light just at the corner.
Gazing casually across to a group of men standing back a little near the statue in front of the church and the law courts pathway, she squinted slightly and focused.
"Well, well, look who's here." she muttered softly to herself.
Her eyes roved around the group and the surroundings. Judge, Surgeon, Clerk and Barrister and coming toward them about five metres away Inspector and she was amused to note the limp and the stiff left hand. The sudden itch of anger surprised her as holding Inspectors right hand and seemingly a little sleepy was a small boy. Trainers, hoodie, a T and baggy jeans. Damn that could have been you girl, fifteen years ago. Then another, Nurse joined the group carrying a knotted half full garbage bag and took the boys right hand. Wonder what the word for a group of lizards is? They all seemed jolly, if lizards in the sun could do jolly.
With a quick fumble in her bag she pulled her new phone, imagine carrying an android round in your handbag she mused. Lowered the passenger window as the traffic began to move and snapped three shots as she cruised past. The window rolled up and checking the mirror none of them had noted her she was sure.
So why are you surprised girl, you know what they are. The anger, the tunnelling of vision, that was... unexpected. Hey... not my problem. She turned up the music and headed down Macquarie, onto the Bridge headed north and up the M2, cut across to the Western Freeway and began the climb up into the mountains. An hour and a half after leaving the city she turned West off the old Highway at Blackheath and wound down a narrow road to her home. A two acre property set on the cliff top overlooking the Megalong Valley. The gate swung open and the garage door rose and then they closed in turn behind her.
It was only early afternoon, a light and pleasant if chilly day, the mountain air crisp and invigorating. For some reason she was at odds, unable to settle or decide what to do with herself. A stroll down into the valley perhaps...yet it would be slippery and damp so not ideal. Thoughts kept floating in and out, memories old and new. Last night... she ran it through and it was as near perfect as mattered. The morning workout and those two smartarse punks. Near adults and as tough and vicious as any hardened gangster. Both quick and nasty, their willingness to go full out and hurt her had surprised her at first. The bigger one had got a shot in and knocked her sideways as the smaller tried to take her legs and stomp her once down. It had taken a very quick and agile skip and kick to stop that one. They gained a lot more respect over the next ten minutes and had a few bruises of their own to think on. All in all a nice hard workout.
A slow motion image of that group near the statue and the boy. Past images of them and others... with a grunt of exasperation she headed through to her bedroom and stripped, changing into workout gear and light dance slippers. She headed down to the basement and circled for a few minutes before attacking the wooden man and working up and down for several minutes, slow and gradually faster until her hands blurred and sweat ran into her eyes. Gasping she stepped back and paced some more getting her breath then stepping into a matted area with a half dozen angled speed balls at different heights she spun and punched and kicked, bouncing and dancing and dodging the swinging blobs and the elastic cables that held them. After half an hour she stepped back exhausted and sodden. Watched as the balls settled into place again and were still.
But her thoughts were not.
...to be continued... if there's interest. I'm winging it as a way to try and write, so... might not be my greatest effort but it's something.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part Four... Assail... def... incursion, offence.
Her thoughts kept spiralling back and forth like some sort of weird video loop or maybe a crazed slinky. The face of a small boy, dull and sleepy... and past faces... long lost faces. Faces no one remembered, no one knew to miss or mourn, a brief flicker of light before snuffing out, the universe was a cold indifferent place. Next her own dull eyes staring back as 'he' sought some spark in the mirror, some reason as to why, as if that mattered, there were no reasons. There was no spark for several years because it did not matter and no one knew... or cared if they did... and then a small, glimmer and later a quiet fatalistic flicker that finally became something resembling a sparkle as she broke free. A dark flame in a cavern of memory where small lights blinked and dimmed in turn.
"Aarrgghh." she growled aloud and paced in exasperation. "What is the fucking point of this girl, the world turns and people die in their thousands every bloody day and no one gives a shit. So what has it got to do with you. FUCK... nothing... that's what. Just another kid that never had a fucking chance and the lizards like tender meat." she stood staring out into the valley and saw nothing except a dark cave where a foul creature lived and small lights winked out as it's tongue slithered out and licked them.
"Oh for fucks sake Cass, get a grip. Twilight zone meets the fucking brothers Grimm. Shit!" she paced through the house not knowing what she was looking for and not finding it and finally, realising she stank, headed for the bathroom.
A long hot shower and then a small lunch, but her thoughts kept running in circles. Those eyes were dull and lifeless, she knew those eyes, if not the owner in this case. That was just an incidental, those eyes were her and many others. Just another of many and no concern of hers she tried to tell herself. But it seemed it was not that simple and exasperation warred with a quiet anger. A soft burning outrage that these creatures could be so brazen, so totally uncaring... yet how should that surprise her? She knew what they were, what they did and as far as she knew of the perhaps two dozen kids she had met or known of only she had survived. That only due to some quirk of fate and the possible guilty whim of a twisted benefactor, if such a word could apply here.
She dressed for movement, sports bra and briefs, stretch bodysuit and ski pants in a soft black and soft tan city walking boots over cushion socks and a thigh length soft wool camel trench style coat. The carefully fitted blonde wig set in a pony tail and the slim dark framed clear lens glasses changed her appearance notably. She smirked at the name on the drivers licence and the picture, blondes have more fun huh... not likely girl. The soft brown tote she lifted with a jerk to test for rattles and feel was a little heavier than it looked but nothing outrageous. With a look around she laughed aloud and wondered if she would see this place again, set the alarms and headed out the door without a backward glance and at a medium pace started the three k walk to the train station.
She day-dreamed on the trip in, if such 'dreams' were that, perhaps day-mares fitted more closely. Though to her they were nothing to fear, just memories and memories could not really hurt you, but maybe the actions they nudged you toward could. It wasn't the dragon in the dark that hurt you, it was tripping over the rug as you stumbled awake. With a shake of her head she grinned at just how prosaic such things often were and yet here she was on a train chasing the bloody dragon after kicking the rug aside. Righteous indignation? Jeeezuss girl, you have lost it.
It was a short walk to the small line of five garages she owned and rented out, the income into a local account. They backed up to a group of small businesses in a slightly rundown looking area of the city outskirts. After a quick look around she rolled up the door and checked the car. It was registered in another name again and while in one sense clean in another it didn't exist, being a blend of probably half a dozen similar cars pieced together and worked up to suit her needs. A fairly plain looking ten year old Audi A4 Quattro in a nondescript silver grey. Nothing flash and yet it would be quick and agile as needed, the engine and exhaust carefully tuned to give quiet power. She disconnected the timed trickle charger and shut the bonnet with a gentle thunk and after a another quick visual check partly emptied her bag, tucked it up against the passenger seat front and placed the backups in several plastic bags in the back seat and her spares under a rug on the floor.
There was a momentary whir and cough before the engine caught and settled quickly into a quiet burble, not silent but close enough. Checked the tyres while the engine warmed, pressure good, then pulled out into the laneway and locked the door. She squirmed a little in the seat, settled and adjusted the belt and checked the mirrors and rechecked the seat and steering wheel settings which with a brief chuckle she acknowledged to herself as pure tension induced nerves. Daft bitch, come-on lets go say hi to Nursie and see what's up. She'll be thrilled I'm sure. That thought caused a loud bark of laughter as she slipped the handbrake off, palmed the gear change and pulled away slowly.
It was a little after four and getting dark as she parked just up the road from the small cottage in the inner west and suddenly wondered what she would do if no one was at home. Shit girl, what was that PPP thing, piss poor planning... crap... whatever, you live, you die, who gives a shit. Lets see if we can pull the lizards tail a bit and maybe break a circle. Karma or some such crap... hey, who knows huh.
The knock rattled the stained glass in the door slightly and footsteps could be heard heading along and the door swung open. The almost pretty face of Nurse looked out impassively that changed to a glare suddenly.
"No thanks I don't fuckin' want any so go bother someone else." The door began to swing shut so she stepped into it and pushed.
"Hey, what the fuck...get out of my...." the words trailed away as she stared at the small black pistol held in a gloved hand that pointed her way.
"Don't remember me then Nursie love, I'm hurt. Ah no matter, where's the boy?"
"What boy, what are you on about, who are you?" It was almost amusing watching the confidence return as she thought she could bluff it out. The picture on the prepaid phone screen held up to her face stopped her cold.
"That boy." She grinned as Nurse blinked and licked her lips as her eyes darted about looking for some answer or response or maybe escape.
"Count of three Nursie dear. Where? Judge, Barrister, somewhere else?" The flick of the safety seemed quite loud and was pure melodrama.
"One, two..."
"Okay.... You're too late whoever you are." The lunge was given away by her eyes and Cassie without a blink stepped slightly back and watched the bullet hit her just to the right of the sternum. Nurse stopped cold and slumped backwards and then dropped with a cough to lie stunned on the floor with a small trickle of blood on her lips.
"Where and I call an ambulance, otherwise I guess maybe ten minutes and you drown you cold bitch."
Another small cough brought a further trickle, "…. Builder... Builder has him, work site... Sussex Street car park... please..." The cough of the pistol sounded louder than it was was and nurse looked up accusingly and then her eyes dulled.
"I lied."
Placed a clear plastic wrapped bundle on the hall table the red curly ribbons and small card with 'to whom it may concern' written on it. Visible was a couple of slim CD cases and a folded sheet of paper. She quickly searched the house and left quietly closing the front door softly behind her.
Twenty five minutes and she parked up a block down from the site, it had taken a few minutes cruise up and back around to pick which car-park and it was a renovation site seemingly shut down for the day. But a gate was open and a quiet compressor could be heard. It took a minute of careful observation to spot Builder looking down casually and gazing about from a walkway one level up. She slipped in as he turned and paced making a call and made her way to him, the slight sounds masked by the compressor noise.
He was leaning again as she got close, he stood abruptly and blinked in surprise.
"What are you doing here lady this is a closed building site, you can't be in here, please leave." As with Nurse his attention was suddenly taken by the long but small pistol she waived is his direction.
"Hello Builder ", he blinked at that name, " Nurse sends her regards, I'm looking for the boy."
His face went a little pale and he glanced down and to the side where some pre-set form work was slowly being filled by a concrete pump , the compressor sound she realised.
It wasn't until she stood over him and heard the dull click that she realised she had emptied the five remaining rounds into his face and number eight pull on that mag hit empty. With a deep breath she looked about and noted the spray of blood, fortunately none on her as the angle was wrong. She hadn't been close enough until that last empty shot. Damn girl, get your shit together, it's done.
Grabbing his left arm she flipped him sideways and with a shove sent him with a slither followed by a dull thud down on top of the form work he had been watching. Someone had obligingly swept up and she kicked the loose cement dust and dirt over the marks she had left, it took a few minutes to find the shed and slip on a nylon cover suit and with a bit of effort pushed his body between the gaps of the wire twist tied metal rods and took care to fit him centrally so he would be fully surrounded and hidden. There was no sign of the boy, but she didn't expect any. It took almost an hour for the cement to fill the wall space and she killed the compressor and using a plank of wood smoothed the surface to match the neighbouring section.
She stripped off and pushed the nylon suit into a garbage bag, left another plastic wrapped package on the desk in the site shed and left. The garbage bag went into a skip bin up the road at another site. It took her a few minutes to figure out what she was feeling, a cold churning in her stomach.
Settling into the drivers seat she took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then deliberately refilled the empty mag and slipped it back into place and swapped with a cold weapon from the spare pair in the floor rug stash.
"Ah Cassie girl, emotion, there's no place, it gets you hurt. Lets go pay a visit to the lizard lounge eh." she muttered quietly shaking her head at her own insanity. Fancy that, a bloody 'lounge', who'd a thought. Maybe some bastard was taking the piss on Wiki, but hey, who was she to argue, it fit.
"Clock's a tickin' girl", Game on... she smiled coldly, started the car, flicked on the headlights and pulled away.
…. to be continued... if there's interest. I'm winging it as a way to try and write, so... might not be my greatest effort but it's something. Sometimes you need to play in the dark, so it doesn't bite you.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2010.
By Kristina.L.S.
Part Five... Nullify... def... abate, void.
She could probably have driven there blindfolded. This house she knew well, having been there many times, although not for years. Memories washed through like a tumble washer video stream and none of those memories was pleasant. Pulling up a few blocks down the road she switched off and sat for a moment. The image of that boy on the footpath surrounded by feral lizards and she now knew he wasn't sleepy, he was drugged and had only hours to live. Older than he looked so she'd got it backwards, he wasn't on the way 'in' he was heading 'out'. Anger at herself flushed her, very closely followed by a quiet rage at those monsters hiding in plain sight.
Here she sat in a quiet Woollahra street, an upper crust suburb on the Eastern edge of the city centre and the respectable façade she knew hid horrors that would shock the neighbours. A small crooked smile crossed her face and she shook her head at what she cynically believed would be short lived outrage and the inextricably linked morbid curiosity. Gazing into the middle distance she thought of her own upbringing, unique as far as she knew in this almost surreal alternate universe, only blocks away and a stray thought as to how the old place looked now, she hadn't seen it in 6 years. Checked the mirrors, scanned the surrounds casually, patted her coat pockets and stepped out to head up the street.
Judge lived in a Southern French style villa surrounded by two metre high brick walls on a for this area, large block of land. A fair sized garden, bloody palm trees, why always palm trees and a driveway parking area for several cars in addition to the double garage behind a large sliding gate. That gate she noted on the drive past had been open as it always was when he was home, only closed late in the evening after all business or whatever had been finished for the day and the court appointed gate guard left. He was there, just outside the gate on the footpath looking bored and uncomfortable and she knew he would never, unless in some emergency, go further inside the property than the small outhouse attached to the side of the garage just inside and left of the gate. She used to wonder if they knew, but was convinced they didn't, that would keep this one alive.
There were motion sensors and lights she knew but no alarms or cameras. For some reason Judge hadn't wanted cameras around his home and especially the entrance. The ordinary lights were on up the driveway and she mentally pictured the front entrance and the side patio area. Judge would be inside the sitting room there or perhaps his upstairs study she guessed. Idly her thoughts passed on Mrs Judge, she knew there was one but had never seen her and had no idea what she looked like, separate lives she believed and wondered what she got from the deal with a mental shrug.
As she drew closer the guard turned her way and casually eyed her up and down in a typical male appraisal, no doubt rating various parts of her anatomy on some scale of desirability and as she drew level gave her a wide grin and a nod as if to say 'wouldn't say no', she would, but objectively he wasn't bad looking and at least didn't have a gut.
Her right hand blurred as it swung across her body and drilled the heel of her palm just below his solar plexus. His eyes widened in surprise and then bulged as the breath left his body with a grunt and he began to slump as she stepped into him and slammed her left elbow just under his left ear, catching his weight across her shoulder as he sagged unconscious. She hissed in effort as he dropped on her and grabbing his right arm that was draped across her back, spun sideways to manoeuvre him around the gatepost and allowed him to slide off her and slump boneless to the ground against the front wall. She winced in mild sympathy as his head bounced and he bit his tongue, took a moment to zip tie his ankles and wrists, pulled off his tie and shoved it in his mouth and waited to be sure he could breathe. With a soft nod she turned her attention back to the house and at a casual stroll crossed the driveway and headed toward the side patio area.
Carefully she stopped just on the edge of the glow from the inside lights that spilled out the French doors and scanned the room. To her advantage the lights inside made her almost invisible but allowed her to see in clearly. A wide grin split her face, well, well... three for the price of one. Seated on lounges in front of a small fire were Barrister, Judge and Surgeon. She imagined to most people looking at this scene it would seem a lovely warm inviting room. She however saw numbed children being quietly led downstairs... to the sumptuous room next to the wine cellar, their hearts thumping like a demented dance mix. But here and now the three sat, chatting, sipping from chunky glasses and looking very comfortable, pleased with life and their place in the universe.
She scowled at memories overlaying current reality and mentally shook herself.
Judge looked older, though still fit, she supposed he would be near sixty now. Surgeon was a little pudgy which fit his self indulgent manner. Barrister, was an oddity in a way. The looks of a male model, voice of a radio announcer, fit and athletic, a bit of a gym junky. Reaching out slowly she turned the handle and smiled as it moved. She pulled the pistol from her jacket pocket, tugged the door toward her and stepped through, they turned in matched surprise at the sudden movement and whirl of cold air. The sudden blur and deep growl raised hackles as she spun towards a very large and upset Rottweiler charging her from its spot to the right of the fire.
"Holy shit." she spun using a standing lamp as a pole, kicked the dog on the shoulder and used the lounge back beside Surgeon as a kick board to spin over and past. Snarling the furious animal slid on the floor runner trying to turn, she kicked its rump as she dropped knocking it off balance and out onto the patio. Just managing to pull the door shut with a loud rattle as it crunched snarling against the centre frame.
Distracted she didn't see the movement until something slammed into her left side numbing that arm as pins and needles rushed up and down and the pistol dropped from her right hand in sympathetic reaction. Barrister had reacted and shoulder charged her and was swinging a kick that would take her legs out and leave her down and vulnerable. He obviously expected her to go for the gun as the others sat still frozen, but she spun on her right foot and stepped past and over his kick, using her still slightly numb left arm as an ineffective club. It distracted him slightly and reaching into her jacket with her right she pulled a small throwing knife with a leaf shaped blade and cord wrapped handle. Twisting she hissed and plunged it into the side of his left leg just above the knee, horizontal to the thigh bone. Felt the jar as it bit bone and he dropped with a shrill squeal as she pulled it loose. As he moaned clutching his bleeding leg the others had finally managed to stand. Shaking her left arm to restore circulation she bent and retrieved the dropped pistol with her still tingling fingers and wiped the blade a few times on the back of the lounge as she stood upright and stretched. A quick check showed it clean enough so she slipped it back into the slim pocket.
With an admittedly slightly theatrical flourish she transferred the pistol to her right hand and was pretty sure Judge had figured out who she was by the sour look on his face.
"Good evening gentlemen", scorn and insincerity evident in her voice.
"Who the fuck are you..." Surgeon blustered and then stopped as she turned and without a word shot him between the eyes.
"Shut the dog up Judge, I don't want to have to shoot him." The snarling, scratching and rattling at the door was loud and constant.
Judge paled and after two failed attempts to work his voice snapped a little hoarsely, "Simba....Hush...Sit." The dog backed up a pace and peered toward the voice of it's master. Then dropped its rear legs and the slid down on its front paws to stare inside panting and dribbling. Typical she thought, the bastard actually cares about the dog.
"What do you want?" Judge tried to assert himself and look stern and in control but did not quite succeed.
"Want? I don't want anything... just doing what I should have done years ago."
Without another word she shot him twice through the heart and as he slumped turned and shot Barrister through the right temple as he turned and with a load high pitched squeal tried to scramble away. Sudden silence and she glanced at movement as the dog stood and tilted its head trying to get instructions.
After a few deep breaths she stretched again and clenched her hand a few times to aid blood flow to the nerves. Placed another plastic wrapped package on the sideboard next to the open Armagnac bottle, looked about carefully to be sure she'd left nothing else and stepped to the doors. The dog growled softly as she opened the door a fraction....
"Come on Simba, good boy."
The big head tilted toward her in curiosity and he pushed through the door toward his master with a soft rumbling growl. Taking a deep breath she pushed the pistol into her coat pocket, slipped out and closed the door behind her. Walked slowly across the driveway and stopped to bend down to the guard, still unconscious on the ground. She reached down with a gloved forefinger and pressed the SOS button on the two way radio clipped to his belt. A small blue light began to blink as she stood and casually glancing up and down the street headed out the gate and down toward her car, there was no one around as she walked easily if slightly hunched, hands in pockets against the chill despite the adrenaline that flowed through her and kept her immune to its bite.
One more stop across the bridge to visit Clerk. Should still have a few hours at least and then watch the shit hit the fan eh girl. Be nice to take them all, but near enough will have to be good enough. She rolled her left shoulder a few times and guessed it would be sore tomorrow as she used the key to open the car door and slipped into the drivers seat. Took a few minutes to let the breath cycle with long slow ins and outs to cleanse her. Clicked the belt, twisted the key, flicked the lights and indicating pulled out and headed for the bridge.
Clerks town-house was dark and quiet, the let down of not running this one down had her on edge, irritable and tense at her own failure. She stood and looked up and down the quiet side street just off the main drag through Neutral Bay, she could wait she supposed, but..... then a figure turned out of the small lane heading her way. Clerk looking tired and carrying a takeaway bag of Chinese food was coming home late. With a sigh she grinned at the Gods sense of humour and noted he was almost to a bench seat bus stop. A few quick skip steps and she was level as he got there...
"Hey honey how was your day." She embraced him lightly and leant in as he, surprised, stumbled a pace backwards and sat on the seat, the plastic bag of food beside him. He looked shocked for a second as the almost silent shot hit him. Sitting a plastic wrapped bundle on the seat to his left she tousled his hair and skipped off up the street into the lane.....
Back across the bridge to the edge of the city she left the car on the apron of a dark workshop. As she walked away her bag slung over her right shoulder she heard the door rattle up behind her. Its replacement would appear in the garage in a few days she was sure. On the walk to the train station she dropped a few more little packages in mail boxes. It was after midnight when she let herself in with a sigh and headed for the bathroom, she needed a soak. Three days later the Current Affairs shows were bleating about Child Sex scandals and vigilante killings.
Cassie smiled and wondered if anyone would knock on her door, very unlikely, but.... Humming softly to herself she stirred the sizzling beef strips and vegetables and spun the wok, reached for the glass of red and sipped.
"Cheers Solicitor."
… a finish, of sorts. Life seldom ties up neatly, there's always messy threads left hanging.
' Where does she go from here, the path is not at all clear. Pain and loss and fear shaped her, but what will the future bring. Is emotion a curse or a blessing. She held herself apart to live. But is that what she did. To live is to feel, to be human. Perhaps now she can be who she is. '
Last bit, thanks for those that followed it. Maybe I'll write something else sometime.