It maybe sounds over dramatic with only that much information
to judge my crisis on but only until you know a fraction of how good my former
friend is at his job. He’s the gun nut son of gun nut parents who indulged his
infatuation with ballistic weaponry from a very young age. He said he fired his
first gun when he was seven but I’m sure he was lying, it had to be earlier
than that. He knows the name and history of every gun in existence and follows
the development updates of future weapons compulsively. I’ve seen him disassemble,
reassemble and fire more than a dozen guns blindfolded.
These details are the backdrop of the picture I’m setting
you but now to the mid-ground; he was in the army, trained further to kill for
the country and he did just that with distinction for years. That was where I
met him, straight out of basic training and off to war, me with childish dreams
of reliving my best console FPS moments and him armed with memories of hunting
with his mum and dad. That’s not where his résumé ends however; after so many
years in the army a man is encouraged to leave because by that point it is
presumed that he’ll suffer some form of accident that may prove more expensive
than death for the armed forces and their lawyers. For me this encouragement
was gladly obliged, I’d tagged along that far because my best friend was a god
of war but without him I knew I wouldn’t last another day. When he left the
army though it wasn’t to settle down and live a quiet life, he was just looking
for his next challenge and wanted to be his own boss. I made another huge
mistake with my life there and then by accepting his offer to join a mercenary
group who would patrol the areas of hostility considered untenable by our
government. We were outside the law, if we did something wrong then the
government and its armed forces weren’t to blame it was just some trigger happy
idiots they could deny contracting. Things were actually quieter in the beginning,
we painted in the colours of the enemy that the locals were used to but they
learnt soon enough where our money came from and their bullets followed soon
after. Yet again his godly skill kept me alive where I should have died years
ago, I’m good with a gun but not good enough.
Now for the foreground; the reason I’m running, the
reason I’m scared. When we settled into the life here and dug in we started
making friends with some of the locals, the ones we don’t shoot at. We bought a
compound and one or two of us got to know some of the locals very well indeed.
He met a young woman, beautiful and clever and he managed to engage her in
conversation she presumably found charming. She’s been spending a lot of time
with him which annoys her family no end, not that they’d dare tell him to leave
her alone. She’ll be a doctor soon, treating people with illnesses and diseases
and idiots who risk their lives and health for money. She has a pretty face,
cute smile and dazzling eyes and that is basically why I slept with her.
Why she slept with me I don’t know but I know he knows
which is why I’m running. I’m not literally running of course because if I was
he’d have picked me off with his favourite sniper rifle half an hour ago. I’m
driving full speed down a rusty road to who-knows-where and trying to tell
myself that I’m just imagining the dust on the horizon behind me and the sound
of an engine that’s slowly creeping up on me.
I’m not imagining it though and the vehicle gradually
becomes clearer through the heat haze. Eventually I can see him behind me and I
wonder why he hasn’t shot me yet. I guess that in his rage he’s forgotten a
long range weapon and only has the revolver he always keeps strapped to his
hip. He gets closer and closer until his vehicles alongside mine and I see him
tapping the glass of his window. Instead of trying to conduct a conversation
with my killer in a moving vehicle whilst we churn up the dust of a near desert
I stop completely and he shoots past before hitting the brakes too. I look at
the gun on the seat next to me but know I can’t pull it on him as he reverses
and gets out of the all-terrain vehicle he was chasing me in.
I lower the window and wait for death as he walks slowly
towards me. He has his hand on the gun as he comes closer and I close my eyes
and tell myself that everything is fine like I have been for years.
“Damn mate, you screwed up didn’t you? This is some mess.”
I hear his hands slap the car door as he leans in through the window. I look at
him as he stares me in the eyes. “Why did you have to sleep with her idiot?
That was so stupid.” I gulped. “Do you know what this means.” I nodded. “My girlfriend’s sister just slept
with a dumbass outsider. Do you know how much crap we have to sort out now?” I
looked at him.
“What, her sister?” He raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Who the hell did you think she was? Oh, right. Is that why you stole that old man’s car? Were you running from me? If you ever have to run from me you’re gonna have to pick a better getaway vehicle than this heap. Turn it around and take it back to the village then get yourself to that woman’s dad. You have some explaining to do. Maybe I should have mentioned she was a twin. You’re in deep crap.”
“Who the hell did you think she was? Oh, right. Is that why you stole that old man’s car? Were you running from me? If you ever have to run from me you’re gonna have to pick a better getaway vehicle than this heap. Turn it around and take it back to the village then get yourself to that woman’s dad. You have some explaining to do. Maybe I should have mentioned she was a twin. You’re in deep crap.”
“I know.”
“Did you really think you would get away from me if you’d
slept with my girlfriend? I’d put a shot between your eyes before you could get
your pants back on.”
“I know, believe me I know.” I knew, all too well, just
how lucky I was.
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