Reflections

As J waded into the shallows, the water crept up his thighs, and his teeth began to chatter. There were goosebumps on every part of his body and the hair on his arms prickled. He was chilled to the bone, but J was on a mission. Once the water was chest height, J inhaled deeply and submerged himself entirely. The shock of the icy water was enough to make anyone gasp but after a few seconds, his body acclimatized to the temperature. It would have been a pleasant evening he thought to himself as he treaded water. The moon was shining through the clouds and the air was brisk, but not too cool considering the time of the year. J looked at his watch, it was almost time.

He didn’t have to wait long because sure enough, a few seconds later a couple came out of the bush, laughing loudly and clutching each other. The girl was pretty enough J thought, but the man was the real prize. The couple took no notice of their surroundings luckily enough. ‘You go in first!’ The girl giggled to the man. Her melodic voice seemed to pierce through the darkness. They had come from the pub up the road and were obviously drunk. The man stumbled to the water and struggled to get undressed. It was J’s time to shine.

He grabbed the man’s leg and dragged him deeper into the water. The woman shrieked. The man struggled against J to no avail. J clasped his hand around the man’s mouth and pushed his head under the water. The man’s arms swung around wildly trying to grab a hold of anything in his path, but J had done this before. As a fixer for the mob, this was one of the easier jobs to swallow. Although J’s body was acclimatized to the temperature of the water, his extremities were still cold. His hands in particular as they got colder and colder, J found it harder to hold down the man’s head underneath the water. As the man twitched and thrashed around, J lost his grip. The man was able to get free for a second and gasped in some of the oxygen that he was so deprived of. J acted quickly and pushed the man’s head down with all of his might. This job was messy, and J knew it.

He didn’t have much time though. The girl had run away, presumably to get help from up the road. J could feel the pulse of the man underneath his hand and what was once the elevated heartbeat of a man who was terrified was withering away. Soon, there was nothing but silence. No struggle, no screams, nothing but peace. J grabbed a few rocks from the shore and placed them on the man’s body which was now floating face down. J watched as the body slowly sunk down into the water. J envied the man at that moment; he would have loved to be that at peace. J didn’t ask questions in his job anymore, so he didn’t know what this man had done to deserve such a death. He made the mistake of asking once he thought, as he looked down to see the missing digit on his left hand.

J didn’t have much time though; he could see flashlights through the bush; the girl had come back with help.

He was surprised when the girl appeared, she was alone, holding a flashlight but didn’t look drunk at all. From what J could tell in the darkness, she appeared stone-cold sober.

“He was my kill,” she seethed.

J then looked closer, and the glint of a knife reflected in the moonlight. His heart sank and J weighed his options carefully. She was obviously trained; he could tell that much. He had just taken away her contract kill, and she was out for blood. He could face her, there was a chance he would get the upper hand and the men he worked for would reward him with the payout he was promised. On the other hand, this could very well be the last night he worked for anybody.

J sighed; it wasn’t an option, but he knew what he had to do. Although his body had adapted to the cold water, his movements became clumsy because he was so stiff. Running out of the water towards the woman was not feasible in his state and she knew that he was weakened.

Just then, a cloud passed over the moon, covering up some of the light that it produced and plunging J and the woman into semi-darkness. J struggled to see, and he moved around feebly trying to hit the target that he knew would have the higher ground.

He was a bad man, he thought to himself, and he wouldn’t let his memories haunt him anymore. As it was, he woke up screaming during the night, and the faces of the men he had killed never truly left him.

J realized his fatal mistake before she made contact. Throughout the years he was in the service and being a fixer for some very bad men, he thought he was invincible, that he couldn’t be touched. He was under the impression that he could never die despite having fingers cut off and countless bullets lodged in his skin. However, J knew it was his time and as the knife found its mark in his side, he had already let go. What was worse he pondered? Living a nightmare or dying with guilt?