The Enigma’s Anomaly

“That was fantastic,” I say to Gerard, looking down at the guy he just knocked out. It’s the guy who’d been sticking my head in the water, so I feel no remorse for giving him a possible concussion. Technically Gerard was the one who did the actual concussing though, and I’m proud of him.

“You’re proud of my goon hitting skills?” Gerard asks, picking up the gun that the unconscious guy has clutched in his fingers. Still after all this time, he holds it like it’s a bomb. Then again it isn’t on safety, so I take it from him carefully.

“I’m just proud of you,” I reply.

“Oh you,” Gerard teases. It occurs to me that we are in a life or death situation with a bunch of big guys with guns literally only a thin layer of fabric away, with two out cold guys at our feet. It might not be necessarily the best time for flirting.

“Do you think maybe we should get outta here?” I ask, and Gerard nods.

“So how do we do this?”

“Well you’re the more stable one, you should probably handle Banks,” I say, and Gerard makes a face. “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Gerard says protectively.

“But I could see you thinking something dirty.”

“Well you said that dirtily,” Gerard replies.

“Do you want to maybe try getting this done, because Banks is going to wake up in a matter of minutes?” I warn him, and Gerard seems to have a moment where he remembers where we are.

“Right sorry,” Gerard says walking over to kneel down next to Banks. “What do I, uh... do?”

“Slap him,” I say.

“What?” Gerard questions.

“Slap him, get him to wake up,” I answer. “And cover his mouth. We don’t want him screaming out.”

“This is so weird,” Gerard shakes his head, but he looks at me and asks permission with his eyes. I don’t know what he’s asking me for. I just point the gun at Banks and nod, because I assume Gerard can figure out what to do.

Gerard makes a whimpering sound, but he gets a hand over Banks’ mouth, and then smacks the guy across the face with no mercy. He doesn’t even hold back, and it makes me kind of happy to see the aggression behind it. I mean, I hate Banks, but I have no idea how it must feel in Gerard’s head. I never worked for the guy. I never walked in on him cheating or found out about his massive embezzlement scheme. I’d hate the guy too, though I’ve got to say, trying to kill us takes the cake. I kind of want to punch the guy in the face a few times too.

Banks stirs slowly, and I see the smallest shrug in Gerard’s shoulder and he hits Banks again.

“You’re really getting him acquainted with your hand aren’t you,” I ask.

“I’ve wanted to do that for fucking years,” Gerard answers, and I think Banks is actually starting to wake up now. He didn’t take kindly to being slapped, and I hear the muffled sound of him trying to talk into Gerard’s hand.

“Wakey wakey motherfucker,” I say.

“I should change that to my alarm tone,” Gerard says.

“I’ll record it later if you want,” I answer.

Banks says something that’s muffled by Gerard’s hand. I don’t particularly care what it is he said.

“Okay, Banks. So this is how this is going to go on,” I start, “we’re going to walk out of here with you, and you’re going to be a free pass out of this shindig.”

Banks makes a noise, and Gerard grimaces, “Do not lick my hand again or I will kick you in the nards.”

“No I’ll kick him,” I say.

“Okay, Banks. Don’t lick my hand again or Frank will kick you in the nards,” Gerard corrects and I smile at him toothily. Banks very clearly rolls his eyes.

“Ready to do this?” I ask Gerard after he gets Banks up onto his feet.

“I think so,” Gerard replies.

“One thing you should know before we go, those men out there, they really don’t care about us. They aren’t going to put up much of a fight. Just make sure that you hold the gun to his head and you cannot keep the safety on.”

I say, handing the gun to him. He nods nervously.

“I can’t hold the gun for you, because I need to stand behind you. You’re going to have to be a human shield for me, because if I make myself an easy target then they’ll try to shoot me. I taught you how to shoot a gun, this one is almost the same thing. It’s easier because you don’t have a revolver this time. It’s basically the same thing, but if you hold it with confidence, then you’ll figure it out on your own,” I say. That’s not exactly true, but it’s only a white lie.

Gerard nods and we step out of the curtains.

Gerard’s body stands as a barrier between me and the rest of the warehouse, because my back is facing the wall that’s only a few feet away.

Gerard says a line of stereotypical warnings, but as I’d suspected, none of the people in the room look really all that torn up.

“We’re going to, uh, leave now,” Gerard says, and they don’t even lift a finger. They don’t care, it’s obvious.

“Peace out bitches!” I shout when we make it out of the warehouse easily. Really easy. I’d say it was too easy, but I kind of expected that. I look around to see that we’re in the middle of nowhere essentially. There’s not much of anything around us unless you consider trees as the epitome of scenic.

I lock the door behind us so that hopefully no one is going to be following us out, but there are other doors for them to use if they even care that much.

“In the clear for n-” I start, but Banks was a lot more capable then he’d looked. I don’t know how he manages it, because he’s just been knocked out, but somehow Banks gets himself out of Gerard’s grip and then grabs the gun from his hands. It’s too quick for me to really see what all happens.

Only seconds ago we’d made it outside, and I thought that we were finally going to be able to make a run for it and live, but Banks apparently has other plans. He steps back a few feet with the gun he’d just taken from Gerard, and he holds it at us. He switches who he’s pointing it at quickly, so I doubt he’s a very good mark, but we’re close enough that he could shoot us both easily.

I put my hands up in a surrender, and Gerard looks at me, but does the same. I’d honestly thought we were going to make it, but I guess we don’t always have things go our way. I’ve seen that proved a lot with Banks.

“Fine, Banks,” I say. “Kill me. Kill me! Do it right now, while you still can. I want you to.”

“Is that a challenge? Do you think I’m afraid?”

“I don’t,” I answer.

“Just spare Frank is all I ask,” Gerard says, looking down at the ground timidly.

“Not a chance,” I say.

“You don’t get it, Gerard. I have to kill you. Both of you. Even if I didn’t want to, which trust me, I do, I’d have to kill you,” Banks says.

“Well you’re going to kill me first,” I say stepping in front of Gerard.

“Fine by me,” Banks says cocking the gun menacingly. The click seems to be louder than a gunshot itself. The gun is still pointing at me and I have no desire to be shot again, but I refuse to watch Gerard die. I can’t do that, I’m not that strong. I’m strong enough to pull the trigger, and I’m strong enough to watch the trigger be pulled on me, but I am not strong enough to watch it be pulled on Gerard. I love him far too much to watch that.

“You are not going to die for me, Frank,” Gerard says. “He doesn’t want you, he wants me, just go.”

“Oh now boys, we both know that I can’t let you do that,” Banks says.

“Then kill me first,” Gerard says.

“No, Gerard, that wouldn’t be right. This started with me, I don’t want to have to see it finish as well.”

“Started with you?” Banks asks still trying to sound imposing, but he doesn’t understand anything.

“Yeah, Banks,” I tell him confidently. “This started with me. I’m the reason Gerard’s still alive!”

“And how do you suppose that?” Banks asks, looking all high and mighty.

“Because I’m The Enigma,” I whisper dangerously to him. The look on Banks’ face eclipses surprise. He’s fucking gobsmacked.

“You hired me to kill Gerard,” I state, “and I ended up falling in love with him instead.”

Banks loses his composure for the first time since I’d met him and then tries to pull it back, unsuccessfully, “didn’t see that one coming, did you Gerard? You’re boyfriend wants you dead.”

“I’ve known for months,” Gerard says with a shrug, “but I know he loves me, so at least I win in that respect.”

My heart lifts when I look at the landscape right behind Banks.

“We both know my record Banks. I’ve only ever missed one target in my entire life, but in a lot of ways I didn’t miss him at all. I got him alright, just not in the way I’d expected. But right now Banks, you’re my target, and I will not stop until you’re dead. I will come back as a ghost to see to it that you go to hell, are we clear?”

Gerard smiles passively, and so do I. Banks is really missing quite a view that he’d have a front row seat to, if only he’d turn around. Today is a good day. A day to be celebrated. Banks looks at us, extremely lost for a moment by our new expressions, but it soon turns back into the hate filled look. His black beady eyes leer into me.

“I don’t believe in that sort of thing,” Banks says but he doesn’t sound as confident as he did a minute ago.

“Well then, believe this, Banks,” I say, “I’m not going to haunt you, because I’m not even going to die today.”

“Oh yeah,” Banks says looking all smug again with a smirk on his face. “And why’s that?”

I smile broadly, “turn around.”

Banks’ grin falls and he turns around to the sound of someone raising their gun. I’m a little upset that I don’t get to see his face. I don’t get to relish in the look of horror that covers his eyes when he sees the row of seven police officers standing behind. All seven of them are brandishing weapons aimed directly at Banks. It’s a beautiful sight.

I think that this is what you’d call a smoking gun.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to drop your weapon,” says a cop.

“This gun is registered,” Banks says in an attempt to avoid blame, but it’s obvious that he’s not going to get that.

“Put your weapon down, sir,” the cop says.

Banks shakes his head like he’s trying to reason with god or something.

“Sir,” the cop says, and all I can do is watch the scene unfold, holding Gerard back cautiously.

Banks turns to look at me and Gerard then back to look at the cops. He then does something incredibly stupid.

“Eat it!” Banks shouts before aiming the gun at a police officer. Not a smart thing to do, for all the viewers at home. Don’t shoot at a cop. They shoot back.

Banks’ hand doesn’t even have a chance to pull the trigger before there’s a bang that most definitely didn’t come from his gun, and my heart stops. I watch the world slow down with precision as the looks of the cops in front of us change. They look determined and a little surprised.

I watch Banks’ back, but I can’t see his face. At first I think that nothing has happened. I think that they missed, and that he’s still going to shoot. Then I see the gun drop from his hand slowly, like I’m in a movie. It’s almost too good to be real.

The pistol drops with a loud clatter that seems to echo, and then Banks’ body is dropping. It’s slowed down and dramatic like in those cop shows, but slowly he falls onto the ground, where his head hits the surface of the ground. He falls onto his stomach while I just watch in awe.

There’s a buzzing around me, because I’m fairly sure that this is all fake. None of this can be real. Gerard and I can’t actually be standing here watching Banks get shot. Still though, even dreams can’t be this magical, that’s got to be unfair.

Then there’s blood. There’s blood soaking into the pavement and I manage to look away for a second to look at Gerard. Gerard’s just as stunned as I am. He looks a little disgusted as well as alarmed, but I’ve seen blood before. I’ve seen lots of blood. Gerard should be more used to it than this though, he did once watch me pass out while covered in my blood. That was a little scary. My guess is that the horror of me dying would have quashed him to that repulsion though.

I’m not dead though, I was shot in a way that spared my life. Banks wasn’t so lucky.

The world all comes back to me when I hear the words, “Medic! We need a medic!”

I’d almost forgotten that this is real and happening around me. Legally, they have to call a paramedic for him, but I know my bullet wounds. I’ve inflicted a lot of those. I know a fatal shot when I see one. I understand entry wounds, and Banks is bleeding far too much for the bullet to still be in his body. Usually if the bullet leaves the body, you’re as good as dead. A bullet clots the bleeding, you live longer if you keep the hole blocked, but Banks is bleeding out, and I just watch.

I look down at him, bleeding on the pavement, mewling like the little twerp he is. I walk closer to him out of instinct, leaving Gerard standing several feet back.

“Hurts doesn’t it?” I say, looking down at him.

“I’m going to have to ask you to step away,” a cop says, trying to get me to step back.

“No, thanks, I’m fine here,” I say, and Banks whimpers looking up at me. “This is what you get, Banks. For trying to kill me, and the man I love. This is what you deserve.”

“I said please stand back,” the cop repeats.

I look down at Banks again remembering all the times I’ve had to lay down on the ground at his feet. I’ve seen Banks in a dream standing where I now stand. I’ve seen him standing above me when I thought I was about to die, only minutes ago. Right now, I’m standing here, and he’s at my feet. I’m the one watching the life drain from his eyes, and the blood drain from his body.

I know it’s bad that I’m smiling. I know that makes me a little bit of a sadist, but I dare you to be any different in my situation. I’ve waited for this for nearly six months. It’s perfect.

“And somewhere deep inside, you know that. You know that you deserve this,” with that I turn, and start to step away.

Banks tries to open his mouth to say something, but when he does he coughs up blood and no words. Everyone knows he’s not going to make it at this point. It’s just a matter of seconds. He’s dying, and I couldn’t be happier about that. Banks holding that gun at us, is the proof we’ve needed. That gun will trail back to the other conspirators. Those conspirators will all have fun stays in the local prison, doing a stint for failing to kill a comic book artist. They’re going to get some serious shit in the cage.

“One more thing, Banks,” I say, turning in my place, “I just want to thank you. Without you I never would have found Gerard. Thank you. Oh, and have fun in hell.”

Just like that, Banks’ eyes gloss over.

I walk back to Gerard and we stare at each other for a few seconds without words. I wouldn’t know the right ones to say in the first place. I wrap my arms around Gerard, nearly crying into his shoulder, and his arms are tighter around me than mine around him. It’s like he’s holding on for dear life, and I don’t blame him in the slightest.

Banks is dead.

It’s over.

We’ve won.