Robin washed her face and rinsed her mouth out for the fifth time. She had taken off her shirt and pants and rinsed out as much blood and vomit as she could. She stood in her underwear and bra, shivering even though the little space heater was cranked up as far as it could go. She’d never seen anything like before, never been shot at before, much less shot. Her face and shoulder still burned.
“At least I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out.” The worst part though had been the look on Matt’s face as he gunned that man down. That was not the man she loved. Robin could well imagine that man shooting someone from the top of a building. For the first time she could see that he had done what he said he did. It was real to her in a way that it hadn’t been before. The question is what she should do with that. For now there wasn’t much choice. She was stuck here, stuck with friends and several dead bodies. Robin sat on the closed toilet and for the first time that day began to pray for sanity to return.
Meanwhile out in the dining room, Jose, Lee and Matt looked at the mess. It was better than looking at each other. The smells of blood, vomit, and cordite from the gun fire permeated the room. Fresh air came in through the disintegrated bay window and out the sliding glass door frame. That helped more than a little but there were still two dead bodies and one on the way.
Matt clung to the military resolve that he found that he needed for now. He stepped to Pasqaule’s prone form. The bleeding had stopped due to the makeshift tourniquets and towels, but his color was far from good. Unless they got him to an Emergency Room fast he was going to die. Since that was not an option he had to question the man and it wouldn’t be pretty. He was no expert in interrogation or torture.
Lee read Matt’s face. “I’ll do it son. You boys take care of your Mom’s body and the other.” He saw relief in both Jose and Matt. Their new work would be dirty and dreadful, but easier.
The detective walked up to the table’s head and lightly frisked Pasquale’s body. Without his Nomex cut proof gloves he didn’t like to pat anyone down, especially not psychos. There was nothing to mark his identity, no clothing labels, and no weapons. The last surprised him more than a little compared to the firepower held by his friend. “Did this joker have anything on him while he was outside?” Lee asked.
Jose answered, “Only some of those night vision goggles.”
“When you get a chance slip them on and have a look around. I’d like you to look for anything he might have had, anything he was carrying.” Lee turned his attention back to the unconscious man and slapped his face lightly.
Pasqaule’s eyes fluttered open. He felt the weakest he ever had. The feeling of extreme blood loss was new to him personally, but he was well familiar with the textbook description. He saw an older man’s face peering down into his own. “Water please?” He was thirstier than he’d ever been.
“I’ll give you some in just a while. First we need to have a little chat. You and your friends caused us quite a bit of trouble. We need to know who you are and why you were sent here.” He walked out of Pasquale’s field of vision and came back, a small sharp knife in his right hand. “I’m no angel, not like the woman you’re buddy killed. I’m willing to do what it takes to find out what you know, whatever it takes.”
The crazy Italian wasn’t crazy about receiving pain. Something he saw in the man’s eyes reminded him of what he saw in his own when he looked in the mirror. Every part of him believed what the man said.
Matt carried Mama’s body outside, wrapped in the tablecloth. He worked carefully to keep her covered. She was lighter than he thought she’d be. Jose grabbed a couple of shovels from the garden shed attached to the house. They met at the tree line and once her body was laid carefully aside they worked. Grief, anger, and pain were given catharsis in the work of making her grave.
The soil was a little rocky at first. Grunting and the sound of metal biting into dark earth filled the air. They had sufficient light to work form the moon and stars. Between the two of them they made a hole big enough to serve as a temporary grave. Her two sons lowered her gently into place.
“This won’t be the end for her brother.” Matt said. “We’ll have a big service for her, have all the family come and pay their respects even if we can’t be there for some reason.”
“Yeah this ain’t over yet,” Jose agreed. “As God and the Blessed Mother are my witness, until some serious payback has been served, this ain’t over.” He looked from the mound of earth up to Matt. “I’ll have a look around and get any evidence up to the garbage pile. You do the same for the house.”
Matt nodded. He went back to the porch and saw Robin sitting there. “Hello lady.” He resisted the urge to ask any of the dozen habitual and completely stupid questions that leapt to mind.
She had managed to get dressed and walk out while looking at the ceiling. “Our friend the detective is having a discussion with that man you brought in.” She studiously avoided making eye contact with Matt, choosing instead to look for familiar constellations. “I want you to know that I meant what I promised earlier. I hate what has happened and what I’ve seen in you over the past few… God it’s only been two days, but I meant it. I will always love you.”
“That’s more than I can ask, more than anyone deserves.” Matt said.
“Just shut up for a minute. I wasn’t finished.” A harsh edge was in her voice. “We’re going to need some time apart. I don’t know if that’ll be forced on us by your going to prison,” her voice broke on the word, “or if you’ll somehow go free. I don’t care how it’s going to happen, but it will. Until then, I’ll help you in any way I can. Your mother deserves that and I don’t know what’s going on, but I feel like it’s the right thing to do.”
Robin stood and straightened her still damp jeans. “Now I’m going to go into my bedroom and lie down. When you’re ready for me to help you can knock on the door and I’ll come out.” She turned and went back inside without waiting for a response.
Matt wanted to be sad. He wanted to feel something. His mother was dead and the only woman he had ever loved couldn’t stand the sight of him. As it was he couldn’t stand himself, but there was work to be done. No time for self-loathing, at least not the sort that kept you from working, plenty of time for that later.
He grabbed a tarp from the garden shed and went inside. Getting Jordan’s body on it was challenging. The big slugs had turned it into a messy affair. There would be a lot of mopping to do. After some struggle Lee came over to help him. “So did you get any useful information?” Matt asked.
“Hopefully. No idea how truthful a word of it is. I got everything on my tape player and took some notes.” They each grabbed an end of the tarp and carried it outside. “He died on me a couple of minutes ago, while you and your lady where having a heart-to-heart out back. Lasted longer than I thought he would and was easier to… convince.”
“I hope he’s rotting in Hell,” Matt said.
Lee stared at Matt. “Well while you and I may have some differences when it comes to metaphysics, I can tell you that if there is a hell, he’s in it. He and his buddies work for a man they call Sanders. You and I call him Peterson. No doubt those are both aliases.” He didn’t tell him that Sanders held an antidote for Sara according to the freak, no reason to yet. “There’s more info that may help your computer-wise friends. Got that on tape.”
They dropped Jordan’s body into a pit that served as a place to burn scraps, leaves, and where a number of bonfires had been held over the years. It was eight feet across and about a foot deep at its center point. There was a large pile of refuse already in place.
They walked back towards the house, tarp slung between them. “What should we do Lee?”
“Well I can tell you what I’d do if it were me. Burn the house down. Take these guys and whatever vehicle brought them here and dump it someplace, maybe burn it too. No ones gonna dig too deep into their deaths. In the right place it’ll be written off as a gangland thing. After that we deal with Sanders.” They put the sad little man’s body on the tarp and took it outside.
They met Jose at the pile. “I found this on the body of the one I capped.” Jose held up the Mac 10. His other hand rose holding a small black bag. “This was near where I got jumped, haven’t looked in it yet. I didn’t feel up to dragging a headless corpse by myself so maybe you guys can get that.” He left his burdens by the pit. “I’ll take you up there.”
Lee pulled a mini mag-lite from his pocket and let its light guide their steps. The three of them made short work of getting Ian and reuniting the three assassins. Jose hawked and spat onto the corpses. “So what’s the plan now?”
“Lee’s got some ideas,” said Matt. “None of them are favorable, but under the circumstances they may be our only options. Jose, I need you to check and see if your friends’ efforts yielded any results. We may have enough information to get Sanders and take him all the way down. There’s still cleanup to do. I’ll take care of that. Lee maybe you can talk to Robin about the computer stuff. She wants to help where she can. I think I’m the last person she wants to see.”
Jose’s heart broke again for his brother. He must feel responsible for all of this and in a way he was. Still it was nothing he could have foreseen. “Sounds like a start at least. If I stop moving and thinking now I may never start again.”
The trio walked up to the house, a long night’s work stretching in front of them.
