BackTrek (10 page)

It burned his soul that all these years later
that the fucking bitch whore still affected his life. He had killed
her in cold blood so long ago, and yet it seemed that every time he
turned around, she was still fucking with him.

He had been so elated when the payment
confirmation had come through. To him, it was like an ‘atta-boy’. A
pat on the back. Recognition for a job well done. All something
that he had never received from his parents or teachers, but
something he seemed to need, something that he thrived on. He
embraced his life of solitude, and loved to live in the shadows,
but he was always affected this way when a job went well, and the
payment came. Even if the recognition was anonymous, at least it
was something positive. That fucking bitch, sister Suzie, could do
no wrong, he thought. He wished he could kill her again.

He had barely been out of the alley, when his
phone had chimed. As he walked back towards the hotel and read the
message, his elation had grown. It was a new assignment. A bit
perplexed by how soon it had come, he was none the less excited. He
loved his work, as it gave him mission and purpose in his otherwise
void life. He read the coordinates from the message and grinned. He
had not even needed to activate the GPS application. He had known
exactly where the location was. The stall in the bus station. How
convenient he had thought, as he had picked up his pace and walked
the next block to the location. Minutes later he was back on the
street, and had inserted the tiny black card into his phone. He had
scrolled through the data as he walked, and had continued to ignore
the few other people on the sidewalk. He had memorized the
important parts, revisited a few of the images, committed the
address to memory, and then ejected the card. He had deftly
activated the switch on the corner of the card, and dropped it into
a sewer drain as he passed. He never looked back to see if the
smoke might be visible.

As he had continued to walk, he brought up
the Google search application, and keyed in a zip code, and the
phrase, popular restaurants. The results had listed several, but
the one that caught his eye, was Pappa Louigi’s. He had liked the
fact that Pappa was misspelled, and he was pretty sure Louigi was
misspelled as well. It had intrigued him. He would need new
transportation for the new assignment, and restaurants had always
been an easy place for him to find what he needed. Usually there
would be quite the variety of types and styles of cars, SUVs and
crossovers to select from, and rarely would there be much of a
crowd in the parking lot. It wasn’t as safe as say, a parking
garage, but he could usually pick up the vehicle he needed much
quicker. That was important for his next assignment. It had to be
completed tonight. As he had reached the hotel, he had flagged a
cab, and soon had been in the restaurant parking lot, where he had
patiently waited for a suitable vehicle to appear. When the couple
had arrived, they parked the dark SUV near the rear of the packed
lot, and he had immediately been thrilled at his luck. In seconds
he had shot the man in the head, and had been ready to subdue the
woman, when that bastard had intervened.

It had all been an interruption to what had
been a perfect evening, but as he road across town in the back of
the cab, and watched the lights go by outside, his mood began to
lighten. It would still be a perfect evening, he thought. He had a
new plan of action in place, and soon he would be on the way to
complete his assignment. In a matter of a few hours, he would
barely remember the confrontation with those bastards. He would be
filled with elation at the completion of another assignment. A job
well done. He smiled.

Jack walked through the door of his empty
apartment, and dropped his keys on the end table beside his chair.
He laid his phone beside them and noticed the missed call and the
voicemail indicator. He activated the application and started the
message.

“You have...one...new...message.” A feminine
voice exclaimed. A shrill beep sounded, and then after a short
pause he heard his brother’s voice.

“Jack. Hey, I just wanted to see how things
went. Call me.” He deleted the message, and the voicemail indicator
disappeared. He felt despondent when he realized that his brother
Mike had been the only caller. Tracey hadn’t called. That was both
good and bad, Jack reasoned. If she had called, that would mean
that she was mad enough to tell him off immediately. But since she
didn’t, then either she wasn’t that mad after all, or she had
completely given up on her idiot husband. He thought about what to
do, as he walked to the kitchen and retrieved a beer from the
refrigerator. He twisted the cap off of the bottle, and took a long
drink from it. He walked back into the living-room and sat down in
his chair. He reached over and hit the power button on the TV and
turned the volume down low. He wasn’t interested in watching TV,
but he wanted some kind of background noise to break the
morgue-like silence in the apartment. He took another drink from
his beer, and then sat the bottle on the end table, and reached for
his phone. He keyed the contact and waited as he settled down in
his chair and stared blankly at the mumbling TV.

“Hello.” Mike answered.

“Hey man. What’s up?” Jack asked, more as an
introduction than as a question.

“Jack! So how’d it go?”

“Not so good.”

“What? Did you say something stupid? Awe man,
I can’t believe that-”

“I didn’t make it.” Jack interrupted. He
wished that he had even had the opportunity to say something
stupid. That would have been easier to overcome.

“You didn’t make it! Are you nuts?”

“Something came up. I couldn’t-”

“How many times do I have to beat it into
your head, man? Some things are just too important to blow off. Do
you-”

“Mike. I walked into a double murder in
progress.”

“A what? Did you say double murder? Did you
get the guy?”

“No. But he almost got me. A couple of
times.”

“Awe man, I’m sorry. I thought you just blew
it off.”

“I’m afraid that Trace will think the same
thing.”

“No, not Trace. You gotta call her and tell
her. If you wait until tomorrow she might not even speak to you.”
Jack knew that he was right, but as he heard it from Mike, it made
him feel better anyway. “Hang up, man. Call her right now!” Mike
encouraged.

“Okay. I’ll call you later and tell you if I
survived.”

“You? Survive? I don’t think they could kill
you if they had too.” Mike responded. Jack said goodbye and hung up
the phone. He took another drink from his beer before he called
Tracey’s number. The phone rang three times, and Jack almost hung
up, when he heard Tracey answer.

“Hello?” She said.

“Trace. Look. I’m sorry.”

“You bastard! It’s bad enough that you didn’t
show up. And that you didn’t even call us to let us know. For all
we knew you were dead in some alley. But then to act like you did
and scare the kids. That’s unforgivable.”

“But Trace I-”

“I’ve already heard all that I want to hear
out of you, Jack King. It took me over half an hour to calm the
kids down after your theatrics.”

“But-”

“But nothing! You just don’t get it Jack! And
until you do...don’t call. Don’t call me, and don’t even think
about coming back over here, not after tonight. If I even see a
letter in the mailbox from you I’ll slap you with a restraining
order so fast your head will spin.”

“Trace, I-”

“I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to
say! Don’t you get it Jack? You’ve already said way too much! One
day you’ll wake up and realize what you’ve missed! One day, Jack,
you’ll get it. No matter what else happens in the world, you’ve got
to take care of your own! When you understand that, then maybe I’ll
listen to you!” She said and then the call went dead. Jack sat
there and listened to the silence with his mouth still slightly
open. He had known that she would be mad. Probably even furious.
But he never dreamed that she would have been as mad as she was. He
finally gathered his thoughts, closed his mouth, and without
further hesitation he called Tracey again. It went instantly to
voicemail. He hung up, took a drink from his beer, and then called
again. Voicemail. After five attempts, frustrated, Jack started to
get up. He thought that if he had to go over there, he would, but
Tracey’s words came back to him.

“...restraining order...” She had said. Jack
knew that she meant it. He finished his beer and went to the
refrigerator for another, his phone in his hand. He opened his
second beer, took a drink, and then called Mike while he leaned
against the kitchen counter.

“Hello?” Mike answered.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Jack. How’d it go?”

“She hung up on me.”

“Wow! She must be mad. Give her a little time
and then call her back.”

“I already did. It goes straight to
voicemail.”

“Man, what did you say to her.”

“Nothing...she wouldn’t give me a
chance.”

“Ouch!”

“She even went as far as to tell me that if I
called back or went over there that she would put a restraining
order against me.”

“A restraining order? That doesn’t sound like
Trace.” Mike said, with a certain concerned tone.

“I know. I think I really did it this
time.”

“Didn’t you tell her about the double
murder?” Mike asked.

“Like I said, she didn’t give me a chance.”
Silence surrounded Jack as he thought about what to say next.

“I tell you what, Jack, I’m not doing
anything, and I don’t have anything planned tonight. I got that
consulting contract earlier today, but I really don’t have anyone
to celebrate with...why don’t I go over and talk to her for a
while. You know...let her know what happened and all.”

“I’d appreciate it. Just don’t tell her that
I had anything to do with it, or she might just shoot you on the
spot. Hey...congrats on the contract. I had forgotten about it,
with all that’s happened tonight.”

“Understandable, brother dear. No need to
apologize. I’ll call you, but probably not until tomorrow. In the
meantime, you get some rest. Let me handle Trace.”

“Thanks, Mike. I owe you one.”

“You probably owe me more than one, but who’s
counting anyway.” They said goodbye, and Jack put the phone back on
the table. He took a long drink from his beer, and then picked up
the remote to the TV. He flipped through a few channels before he
clicked it off. He sat there in the dark, and listened to the
unbearable silence while he finished his beer. Finally he got up
and went into the bathroom, as he hoped that a shower may make him
feel better.

He shut the bathroom door behind him, and
walked to the shower. He bent over, turned on the water and set the
temperature hot like he preferred. He started the shower, pulled
the shower door shut and went to the sink and began to undress. He
removed his shoulder holster, and wrapped the straps around the
holster itself, before he carefully laid his loaded weapon on the
bathroom counter. Piece by piece he piled his clothes beside it,
and stepped back towards the shower. Just as he was about to step
in, he remembered to get a towel out of the linen closet by the
door to the bathroom. As he rummaged to find a towel, a sound from
the living-room startled him. He knew that no one had a key to his
apartment except for him, and that he had turned the TV off. He
knew that a sound, any sound would mean that an intruder was in his
apartment. Instinctively he grabbed for his gun, threw the safety
off, and readied himself to open the bathroom door. Suddenly his
nakedness hit him like a brick wall, but with no time to dress, he
had to proceed.

“Hello?” He called from behind the closed
door. Silence responded. “I’m armed!” He called out again, and
another sound echoed back in response. Jack grabbed the door handle
with his left hand and flung it open. He brought his weapon down as
he exited the bathroom. Carefully he surveyed his apartment, but
found no one nor any evidence that any one had been there. Puzzled,
but relaxed, he chained his front door, checked the window locks,
and went back to his shower. He supposed that with all that had
happened that day, he might have imagined the sounds, but after he
had checked it out, he felt better. As he stepped into the shower,
the tensions of the day began to ease out of him as the steaming
water poured over him. Jack accepted the fact that this shower was
probably the best idea that he had had all day. It was just what he
needed. A long hot shower, and then a good night’s rest.

After the shower, he rechecked all the doors
and windows, and content that they were locked, he climbed into
bed. His head had barely hit the pillow, when sleep overtook him.
But it was a restless sleep, as his mind continued to work
overtime. He could feel that Tracey reached for him. That she
called for him. But he couldn’t quite grasp her. Her face showed
anger, her voice rattled with fear, and her hands pleaded for him
to help her. No matter how hard he reached for her, he just
couldn’t get to her. Suddenly her voice was replaced by bells. Each
time she opened her mouth bells would sound. Puzzled Jack tried to
yell back, but his voice too had turned into the sound of bells.
There they stood, just out of reach from one another, as they made
sounds at one another that sounded like a bell as it rang...and
rang...and rang.

Suddenly Jack sat up, and ripped himself from
his dream, as he realized that the sound he had heard in his dream
was his phone. He grasped in the dark for brightness of his phone
on the table by the bed. As he struggled with the unlock sequence
on the face of the phone, he noticed the clock on the night-stand.
One-fourteen A.M. the angry red display acknowledged. Just as he
finally unlocked the phone, his elbow bumped the lamp on his
night-stand, and sent it to crash to the ground.