I, Death

Sin Eater: Chapter 12

As the diarrhea-like flow of laughter finally subsided, Peter was able to again get control of his balance. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked down at the crumpled figure lying at his feet.

He let out a deep breath.

The man he had just killed was one of the few people who worked within Brecht’s organization that Peter had gotten to know, and even considered a friend.

§         §         §

His name was Jacob Hailey.

He had been the first friend, other than Bryan Brecht, that Peter had made since his trek south from his small Northern Ontario town.

Of course, though Peter respected, looked up to and depended upon Brecht, he didn’t count him as a friend. Brecht was more of a mentor, a teacher. He was someone to be revered, followed.

Which is why, when Jacob offered that first small sign of friendship — the extended package of cigarettes as they both sat in silence on a shadowed park bench — it meant so much to Peter.

None of Brecht’s other men would even speak a word to Peter. But Jacob’s offer was an outreach he felt deep in his heart.

The two of them were on the bench in the wee hours of the morning, just sitting and watching a club across the park and on the other side of the street.

The club was supposedly operated in conjunction with a major gang affiliation. But, like most endeavors Peter went on, he knew nothing about it. Peter wasn’t supposed to be out on this type of mission, but he had expressed to Brecht a desire to get out, to work on a task other than an outright kill mission.

He said he needed to do something a little different in order to gain a bit of balance.

Brecht had been hesitant, but finally gave in and told Peter he could accompany one of his closest trusted men on an observation mission.

On the way out, Jacob hadn’t even glanced at Peter — he barely said more than the words necessary to convey where they were going next or to utter simple instructions or orders such as “keep quiet” or gesture at something and say “over there.”

But the offer of cigarette felt different.

“Thanks,” Peter said, taking the proffered cigarette. “Do you think we’ll see anything?”

Jacob didn’t immediately answer, and Peter thought they would go right back into the silent routine.

“You know the boss doesn’t want us making small talk with you.”

Those were the first words Peter had ever spoken with one of Brecht’s men, other than simple questions or direct orders.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Why is that?” Jacob asked. “The boss explained that you’re something special, but never explained what or how your assassination technique works. All he kept saying is that it would be dangerous to get close to you. And that, when necessary, you should be defended at any cost. But you don’t look all that dangerous to me.”

“I am.”

They sat in silence for another minute.

“The boss might very likely get rid of me for this, you know.”

“For what?”

“For speaking with you so openly.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Silence again.

“I still don’t think you look that dangerous.”

“That’s a mistake too many people have made,” Peter said. “You’re likely best to not get too close. That’s another mistake people make.”

Their simple conversation evolved from there. Without revealing too much about his secrets or his curse, Peter had gotten to know Jacob a bit better.

Peter learned that the man had two children; a boy aged nine, and a four year old girl. That he was estranged from his wife and one of the few pleasures in life was when he got to spend time with their kids on alternating weekends.

Peter and Jacob kept their friendship from Brecht; and though Peter had felt guilty for this minor betrayal, he didn’t see any harm in getting to know someone that he could just speak with.

The friendship had continued for almost two weeks; the occasional shared cigarette and brief chit-chat when nobody else was around.

When Brecht informed Peter of his latest mission — to take out Jacob Hailey, who was suspected as being an infiltrator into Brecht’s ranks — Peter thought it was possible his mentor knew of the friendship they had developed.

But he never doubted Brecht.

Though it was hard, he did what he was asked.

He went into Jacob’s room in the downtown townhouse headquarters, said he had something to ask the man.

Jacob smiled at him. “Sure. What?”

“Did you ever wonder why I never made eye contact with you?”

Jacob grinned. “I always thought it was because you were shy.”

“No,” Peter said, grasping the man’s head between his hands and staring him dead in the eyes. “Not shy. Just . . . this.”

And that was all it took.

Tears streamed down Peter’s face as if in a bizarre mirror response to the blood pouring down Jacob’s.

That was when the uncontrollable laughter began.

§         §         §

Peter stood over the crumpled body, thinking about how it seemed his fate that he could not have a single friend.

Brecht stepped up behind Peter and placed an arm around his shoulder. Peter felt himself melt into the comforting embrace.

“You done good, kid,” Brecht whispered.

“I still don’t like it,” Peter said, letting out another long breath and feeling the strange tickle in his throat that sometimes came as an after-effect of the use of his power.

“I know. I know. It’s not easy doing the right thing, Peter.” Brecht patted Peter on the shoulder. “But Jacob was very likely behind the infiltration into my . . . family. He needed to be stopped before more damage could be done. Maybe now that you’ve taken care of him, the surprise killings of those working for me will stop.

“You did the right thing, Peter. You did the right thing. Some lessons can’t be taught, Peter. They must be lived to be understood.”

[The rest of this novel will continue to be rolled out on a regular basis here on Wattpad, but if you can't wait to read it, the print and eBook versions are available through all major online retailers. Publisher Atomic Fez's page (with links) is here:  http://www.atomicfez.com/book-catalogue/9781927609033.html]