Amok: An Anthology of Asia-Pacific Speculative Fiction (7 page)

The driver looked on his rear view mirror and gave a smile to both of them.

Excitement and doubt no longer filled Damian’s heart during the trip to the hit zone after 408 missions. He relaxed and went to sleep.

§

Across the street, the cafeteria’s neon light signs were off, and the sign on the door said, “Sorry We’re Closed”. The trees and bushes surrounding the parking lot hid them.

“You were tossing and turning again,” Umer said. “Better get that ‘recurring dream’ checked. Iñigo says he’s good with interpreting dreams.”

“I don’t need anyone to interpret my dreams,” Damian said.

The beer filled his stomach and woke his spirits. They arrived an hour earlier, so there was time for beer and dinner (fish balls, quail eggs, grilled blood, chicken intestines and barbecue).

“You can tell me what to eat, but you can’t tell me what to believe,” Damian said.

“We dream things we want to happen,” Sunet said. “Dreams incorporate the past. Dreams can be confused as memories and vice versa. When you start having problems deciding which is which, you should already ask for help. In my opinion, the need is aggravated when you start denying truth as nothing but fantasy.”

Sunet’s eyes looked at Damian as if he knew the agent’s secret. The old man recruited Damian to the agency, so he expected the old man did a thorough profile check. When one joined the agency, one gave-up privacy and personal relationships.

“But that’s only my suggestion, Sir,” Sunet added.

“And a good suggestion it is,” Umer winked at the driver. “Go see Iñigo. He wants some action, or anything interesting. It’s been a while since high profiled cases were assigned to him. Your dream may cure him of his boredom.”

“I don’t want anyone interpreting my dreams,” Damian said. “For all I know, it’s the only thing the agency can’t mess.”

“Okay man, suit yourself,” Umer raised his hands in surrender. “Five minutes to hit time. Can you see our client yet? She should be here already. Else, we can’t go on.”

“She’s here,” Damian saw the client emerging from the underpass. “She’s looking at the coffee shop.”

“Is that in the plan?”

“Not that she mentioned it. Maybe she just wants to make sure that it’s the right guy on the shift. She’ll leave if she wants to call the hit off.”

“That would be bad. There are no refunds.”

“Okay. She’s in position now, better take mine too.”

“Hide us, Sunet. Make sure nobody notices Damian pointing his slingshot.”

Damian focused his senses on the client and the target. Everything dimmed and hid in the shadows. Only the light from the cafeteria and from the streetlight entered his eyes. Three minutes to hit, his heart was pounding, and adrenalin rushed all over his body.

During Damian’s first few weeks in the agency, the excitement would always make him miss thrice before he hit the target. That was four years ago. Everything became natural to him, as normal as breathing. The anticipation of fulfilling the task only enhanced his focus and determination to finish it in one shot.

Damian took one pebble from his jacket’s side pocket. He kissed the pebble and kept it close to his lips while whispering an incantation. The stone’s colour was ivory, but it glowed red after he kissed it. With every word he uttered, the stone’s light intensified.

“In the name of love, I command you,” Damian ended his prayer. The stone turned into a burning ball, red light escaping through the spaces between his fingers. Two minutes to hit, the target was closing shop; the client, acting innocent, was still in position.

Damian, tilting his head to get a better angle and better snipe, was ready to shoot at will. He waited for the opportune moment. One minute to hit, the target finished closing the shop and started to walk towards the streetlight about a meter from the client.

Just give the signal
, Damian thought.
Just ask for it and I’ll do it for you. Or call it off, I don’t care, just don’t make me wait.

Thirty seconds to hit, the target was in the right position, his heart unguarded and unaware. The client took her eyeglasses from her shoulder bag, wore it, stared at the target, and smiled. That was the signal.

The pebble tracked its trajectory. A streak of red light crossed the street. Sunet made sure no one else saw it except members of the agency.

The ray of light struck the target’s chest, never to leave his body again. The target held on to the streetlight to regain his balance. Shock filled his face, and his chest glowed bright red. The glow accumulated in the man’s heart. It formed a silhouette of his heart, blinking in unison with its beating. The light dimmed as it penetrated his heart. Damian saw the heart resisting the flame of emotion engulfing it. The client swayed her hips when she approached the target. Her smile caught the man’s attention.

Damian stood up when he saw the two talking and laughing. Mission accomplished. The target fell in love with the client, forever.

§

“So how are you, Sir?” Sunet asked.

“I’m fine.” Damian replied.

“I’d say that’s a lie by the way you look, Sir.”

“Just couldn’t get any proper sleep.”

“Really? And Carmelo calls you Sandman for all the sleep you’ve been doing.”

“I don’t care what Carmelo says.”

“Of course you don’t, Sir,” Sunet fixed the eyeglasses on the bridge of his nose, licked his hands, and turned some leaves of the record book. “But keep in my mind that he’s your senior.”

“For as long as I am in probation. I’ll be a full Cupid after this.”

“You think so? I see you’re very confident, Sir.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I deserve it.”

“Too cocky, Sir, but we’ll see.” Sunet skimmed through the log of Damian’s missions, from those two elementary students to the old woman who paid a lot of money to secure the young businessman’s love. Misses, failures, and delays gave him demerits and harsh criticisms. Perfect missions earned him nothing except the chance for immortality.

“Overall, you’ve done a good job, Sir,” Sunet said. “We can forgive all of your previous mistakes and for staying stubborn about using a slingshot instead of the customary bow and arrow. But before you graduate, we have one more mission for you, just to make sure you deserve Cupidity and immortality.”

“The big bosses won’t make it any easier for me?”

“Never mind the big bosses, Sir. It’s all for the agency’s benefit.” Sunet handed a sealed brown envelop to Damian.

The contents were the same for any mission envelope: a piece of paper and a 4R picture. On the paper were the target’s basic information (name, age, height, complexion, occupation and present residence), additional details, and instructions for the hit. Information about the client was missing. He asked for anonymity, either for safety concerns or, most likely, for unbearable shame in dealing with Cupids.

“Is this the agency’s idea of a joke.” Once Damian saw his target’s name, he did not need to see any other personal detail. Only the picture would do for she had changed after four years, a shorter hair, dyed reddish brown, and a more slender body. She maintained the beautiful face he had fallen in love with.

“Based on your reaction, Sir, I’d say it proves the agency is doing the right thing.” Sunet smiled and waited for Damian to answer.

The silence turned to a high pitch whistle that almost made Damian’s ear drums explode. One punch could split open Sunet’s lips and destroy his devious smile. Damian kept his cool. Hitting an innocent messenger was useless.

“Your last mission is to make Sarah Cortez fall in love. Do it and the big bosses will raise you to a full Cupid. And, as we have agreed, you will be immortal,” Sunet said.

“Part of our agreement was to take Sarah out of my life. I didn’t want to remember her. But you failed.” Damian slapped Sarah’s photo on the table. The sound reverberated in the room and made Sunet jerk.

“Interesting. The dreams went not only to your head but also to your heart,” Sunet said.

“How did—”

“I know everything, and I never fail, Sir. The moment I learned about your dreams I knew what the reason was. It’s all because of this.” The messenger pointed to Damian’s chest. He whispered the words as if it was top secret. “You still love her.”

“I don’t love her,” Damian’s words were a futile and worthless attempt to deny his feelings.

“You do. And the big bosses know, Sir. This is the perfect mission for you. Make her fall in love, and you can move on. Forget about her, be a Cupid, be immortal. The agency can force love to any heart, but we cannot take it away. It’s like death, only worse.”

The words pierced Damian to the bone. Sunet’s eyes sent a creeping fear all over his body. The old man’s smile froze his heart and his soul. Damian always saw Sunet as an old man, but at that moment, he feared Sunet.

“You will do this, Sir,” Sunet continued. “Because if you don’t, you’ll break our contract, and as you already know there is no place for an ex-Cupid, even one in training, in the world of mortals. The agency will make sure hell reserves a special place for you.”

§

“I want red wings when this is all over.”

Rain poured down on the city. Ankle deep flood sunk the city roads. The water sliding on the windshields made the city outside appear it was under a wild current of ocean. Damian was getting bored waiting and had started talking about all the things he wanted as a Cupid.

“And no one can force a bow and arrow on me, I’ll keep Y,” Damian continued. “I’m more troubled with immortality. I don’t know what I’ll do forever besides missions.”

“You’ll soon figure that out,” Carmelo replied. The senior would assist Damian in his final mission, but Damian thought it was more of a precautionary measure for the agency.

“There are a lot of things you can do,” Carmelo said. “You’ll live forever right? You can actually just keep on thinking what to do, and you’ll still have infinity to do it once you’ve decided. In that aspect, immortals are blessed. Mortals need to rush and decide what they’ll do. If they don’t, they’ll die the next day without even accomplishing anything.”

“Really? Cupids have the luxury of not dying?” Damian asked. “Then I wonder why I’m here. As far as I know, the agency needs five Cupids. There are four of you, what happened to the one before me?”

“Look here kid,” Carmelo said, “Cupids are immortal, but if you ever find forever to be overwhelming, you can always decide to spend eternity in darkness and silence, in short death. That happens all the time.”

“So we have that choice, huh? I never thought of that. Why did the last one decide to die?”

“He never decided to. It just happened.”

“He got killed? He’s immortal. He can’t be killed.”

“Unless he falls in love, love for a day and death for eternity. Demetrio never regretted it though. I saw it in those dying eyes of his.”

“Love and then death? Talk about going from bad to worse,” Damian said.

Sunet laughed, “I think you got it the wrong way around, Sir. Although the sequence is right, the severity is wrong. Love is always worse than death. Dying is an escape from love’s tortures.”

“So that’s why the agency is making me do this,” Damian said. “I can’t become a Cupid if I’m still in love with Sarah.”

“Yes,” Sunet replied. “You can lie all you want. If the agency turns you into a full Cupid even with a single hint of love for Sarah still in your heart, you’ll die in an instant. And that would be just a waste for the big bosses. They need to be sure first. Finding new trainees are not hard though, so you better make this.”

Sunet parked the car on the sidewalk. The wind blew rain to almost a horizontal. Gust shook the buildings.

“Make this quick, Sir.” Sunet said. “You know where she is. Do it. Then go back immediately. This storm is not that much of a problem. Sir Carmelo, go to the skies when I signal all clear, and carry Sir Damian to the top of that building there. The view will be perfect for him.”

“Okay, Boss,” Carmelo replied. “I love rain. I like getting my wings wet.”

After a few short breaths and a long blank stare ahead, Sunet told them it was fine to get out. A splash of water greeted Damian. The strong wind took his balance off, and the flood made it impossible for his feet to grip the pavement. He was falling down. Before Damian took the impact, the ground fell further from him.

Carmelo took Damian under the arms. They flew above Sunet’s car. Dark purple wings almost twice Carmelo’s span forced its way against the violent gust. Its thick feathers and frequent flaps broke the rain’s continuous pour. No mortal noticed this; the surrounding was all rain for them, no flying man with big wings, no Cupids.

The building’s rooftop gave a good view of the 32nd floor of the adjacent building where Sarah was working. Sarah sat in front of her computer. Men occupied each cubicle around her. If Damian shot her then, the first man she would see could be any of them. He had specific instructions on the hit time. Damian looked at his watch.

“Five minutes,” Damian said, “I better get ready.”

“I’ll just watch here. I’m enjoying this storm in flight.” Carmelo said.

Sarah’s heart had a bluish glow that indicated she was not, at that moment, in love. It assured Damian of what he was about to do.

“Carmelo? Why are you here?” Damian asked.

“To look over you, of course,” Carmelo replied.

“Don’t lie to me Carmelo,” Damian said and faced Carmelo.

The Cupid kept his head raised, looking straight to the sky, allowing the rain to wash over his face.

“You only accompany me on heart break missions,” Damian continued, “I know why you’re here.”

“I am the heart break Cupid indeed,” Carmelo enjoyed the shower heaven gave him. “Still, why would it matter anyway? Just do your mission, kid. Then you’ll be like me. If you don’t like my job then you can always turn down hits like this.”

“What if I don’t do it?” His hesitation contradicted the loaded and stretched slingshot aimed at Sarah’s heart.

“Do you really have to be stubborn about this?” Carmelo’s face was blank.

The Cupid slid his hand through his long dark hair and took a strand. After whispering a prayer, the hair curved and took form, spreading like a piece of darkness in Carmelo’s hands. A dark bow as long as Carmelo’s span materialised in his hands. It was not the first time Damian saw Shadow’s Crown. Rain and wind dispersed as Carmelo swung his right arm and Shadow’s Crown, the gust unable to withstand the force of the act.