Killing Atlas

My frustration was beginning to weigh heavily on my shoulders. I could feel the ache grinding between my bones as I pulled the launcher from its velvet case. The annoyance of it only fuelled my anger more. I brushed my jaw against my sleeve, a thoughtless instinct to soothe the strained tenseness from locking it so tightly for so long.

The launcher was small. Small enough to carry in a case that could pass as a briefcase, but not subtle enough to cause a precise and controllable hit. I’d tried not to think too hard on that fact. Tried not to think about possible casualties in the surrounding apartments. I was uncertain how far the damage would run. I didn’t know how large the explosion would be. But it would get the job done and that was all that I needed to know.

The launcher clicked together easily, the joints locking perfectly into an airtight barrel. In its own right, the Peashooter wasn’t categorized as a missile weapon. It was a sniper rifle; the barrel long and thin, with a telescopic sight fitted for more accurate precision. There was only one reason that I called the Peashooter a launcher. One reason that had the sweat on my brow shivering at my harsh and unsure breath.

The missile gleamed up at me, shimmering against the last light of the sun as I slid the piece into place. The missile was long and thin, like a needle, but bigger. The Peashooter was a single shot weapon. I had one chance to do this. Only one. If I screwed up this time, I screwed up bad.

Targeting his apartment window, I lined the barrel with unwavering hands. The task wasn’t difficult. One shot and it was all over. His beacon flashed on my GPS, blinking evenly and motionlessly as it had been doing since he returned home from the café.

One shot.

One shot.

I pulled the trigger, the missile moving through the darkening sky faster than any eye could see. Not that it mattered. I didn’t need to see the needle to know it hit.

Within milliseconds, an explosion roared out like an erupted volcano. The sound was deafening, splitting through the impact of shattering glass and debris. Flames enveloped every inch of the expanse of his apartment, stretching further into the apartments on either side. For a moment, everything seemed to still. The sun was already gone. The sounds of humans levelled to a muttered whisper below the ensuing cackle of the burning apartment.

I moved quickly, unravelling the Peashooter and storing it neatly into its case. I would dispose of it as soon as possible, though it was doubtful I’d ever be found. That didn’t mean I was stupid enough to have it lying around. Though the missile had exploded into fragmented pieces, there was still a possibility of someone having enough luck to piece it back together.

Crowds gathered along the streets beneath the burning building, eyes wide and reflecting as they stared in awe at the unfortunate event. Whispers reached my ears as I hurried through, questioning how it happened, wondering if anyone was inside. Sirens sung in the near distance, quicker than I had thought, or perhaps I hadn’t been moving quickly enough. I clenched my jaw. My job was jone, but I wasn’t in the clear yet.

I pushed harder.

“Hey!”

My blood froze.

It couldn’t be.

Bright blue eyes dropped into view, locking with mine; his face was mere centimetres from my own. The GPS was clutched in my hand, his blinking beacon dead as it had been when I’d confirmed his death on the rooftop. The way it should be. The way it had to be. So how was he standing here in front of me?

“Can you believe it?” John asked, his large hand engulfing my shoulder familiarly. “I only stepped out for a moment, and I come back to this. It must be luck, or I’d be dead!”

I blinked; surprised momentarily before realising I wasn’t imagining anything. Atlas stood before me, his eyes glittering dangerously in the light of the flames like some kind of demon spawn. I glowered, boiling with the desire to beat the unknowing smile on his face with my briefcase and just take my chances with the cops.

“Yeah,” I hissed instead, moving to push around him. “Lucky.”

John frowned, sticking to my side like glue. “Are you still angry at me?”

Sighing in exasperation, I stopped at the edge of the crowd, wondering how long he intended to follow me. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I replied snidely. “I feel nothing for you.”

John leaned back, his head tilted slightly. “I’m actually glad I found you,” he commented as if I hadn’t just insulted him. “It’s just, with the apartment blown up… I have nowhere to go…”

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “Shouldn’t the police take care of your housing?”

John looked at me apologetically. “Well, you see…” He paused. “I might have been a little startled. After the apartment exploded, I had a paranoid feeling that someone was trying to kill me. So when they found me, I may have hit one and ran.”

I gave him a deadpan look. If I’d been in a good mood, I probably wouldn’t have laughed then either. Stupidity was unattractive. “Too bad I don’t care,” I replied throwing a flippant wave to end the discussion and started back to my car.

Atlas’s hopeful smile dropped. “I just need somewhere to stay for tonight,” he pushed, jogging to keep up with me. “Just one night. And then tomorrow I’ll go to the police station.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Not happening,” I snapped, turning on my heel. “Stop following me.”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

The look on my face should have clearly spelled out my thoughts, but John didn’t seem to notice. His pleading smile looked past my obvious, go fuck yourself scowl as if I really cared he’d gotten himself into this mess. I didn’t, of course. He deserved everything for the mouthful I’d get from father tonight.

“Please,” he repeated.

I gritted my teeth. “You’ll sleep in the car,” I snapped reluctantly.

Atlas smiled widely. “I really appreciate it,” he said.

I eyed him, bitterly noticing his triumphant happy-go-lucky smile. “Have you… gained any memories yet?” I asked, my mind drifting to his sleeping position the night before.

Atlas gave me a sideways glance. “Not much,” he answered. “I remember a lake, and sitting beside it at night. You could see the stars better than you can see them here.”

My heart stopped, knowing he spoke of the lake that sat on my parent’s property. “Is that all you remember?”

Atlas gave me an enquiring look before nodding, and I felt my breathing ease. He was beginning to remember. How much longer before it all came back to him?

~

“Autumn, have you seen the news?”

Dad’s tone was clipped, anger seething through his teeth.

“No,” I replied as if nothing was wrong. “Why?”

I knew what he was going to say before he started tearing through the phone line. Atlas’s apartment was on the television, plumes of smoke billowing into the sky. Blue and red flashed brightly against the screen, almost blinding in the darkness of my lounge room. The attack had been far too direct. I’d known even before I loaded my car with the Peashooter. The bigger the attack, the more attention it drew. I sighed. I was in big trouble.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

I pursed my lips. “I was sure he’d be inside,” I grumbled.

“You blew up the building and he wasn’t inside?”

I paused. “No.”

“God damn it, Autumn,” dad snapped, his patience worn to the thinnest line. “Find him tomorrow, and finish the job. You know what’s at stake if you fail.”

“I know, dad,” I sighed, hanging up before his temper could get any worse.

Failure to complete the hit meant immediate elimination.