Another job
A deafening sound echoed, shattering the silence in a nearby neighborhood. Nobody cared to know what had happened or where the sound had come from. Maybe they were being cautious or careful not to be a victim of the sound, and this was evidenced by the shut entrance doors of the wooden apartments that made up the neighborhood.
In one of those apartments, a pool of blood had formed around the corpse of a fat man lying on the floor. The only smells were those of blood and a dying cigarette being quenched by the same pool of blood, which had spread.
Before his death, the man had smoked a few rounds while counting the dollar bills now scattered on a nearby table. But he had not heard the sound of the gunshot as he was already dead before the sound could reach his ears.
The entrance door to the apartment which had the dead man creaked open. Another man, dressed in a black coat that draped to his knees, walked in, his boots making subtle thuds on the wooden floor. You couldn't make out his face, but by his long frame, you could tell he was above six feet. On the right side of his mouth glowed a lit stick of cigarette. The man puffed out a few rounds of smoke and threw the lit cigarette on the corpse. Then he walked out, just like he had walked in.
Usually, when a gunshot is heard, people would call the police. That was the norm. However, this was not the case for the quiet neighborhood. Nobody bothered to call 911, and the man who had pulled the trigger had nothing to worry about as he sauntered down a narrow alley. The only sounds were those of his boots as he walked unbothered. He had no remorse or whatsoever, as lives meant nothing to him, at least not the lives of his targets.
The dead man was his 774th kill.
A parked BMW car appeared at the end of the alley. One of its doors swung open when the man registered his presence. The man pulled out a stick of cigarette, lit it, and hopped into the car.
"Now drive," the man ordered, and the lady seated beside him soon turned on the engine.
Not a single word came from the man for the next fifteen minutes, and the lady, her eyes focused on the wheel, only became uncomfortable.
"Did you find your friend?" she asked, trying to make conversation.
The man threw his face away, glancing at the tall tree as the car zoomed by. His indifference was obvious, and the lady maintained her focus on the wheel. However, she soon figured what had happened when the tip of a gun revealed itself underneath his coat. Her knuckles turned white, realizing that her warnings and pleadings had gone unheeded.
"Damn it, Zi. You promised. You promised there wouldn't be a next time," she grumbled.
"Shut the fuck up and drive, Mia. You wouldn't have gone to college if it weren't for this," the man called Zi said without turning.
His name was Zarek Slade, and the girl seated next to him was his baby sister. She had offered to drive him to go see a friend but only to end up aiding in what she had complained about.
Mia released a huge sigh, and silence returned to the car. She knew Zarek was right. She would never have made it through college, or even afforded the designer clothes she was now wearing, or the expensive meals they ate at their million-dollar apartment. However, Zarek had promised there wouldn't be a next time. As a matter of fact, before his last kill, which happened less than an hour ago, he had told Mia that he was going to see a business friend. But Mia had heard the gunshot, and since Zarek was in the same neighborhood, the dots were pretty easy to connect.
Minutes later, the car slowed down, and Mia drove into an estate when an automatic door swung open. This bulletproof mansion had cost Zarek a whopping fifty million dollars, but money was never a problem. Not anymore. His attention drifted when Mia banged the door and hurried into the building without saying a word.
Of course, she was angry. Zarek had also missed the most important day of her life – her college graduation – on the excuse of an important mission. But in truth, Zarek couldn't afford to waste precious time listening to some boring talk by some tired professors. He would rather use the time to practice some kill moves and sharpen his shooting precision.
Realizing this, and how alone she had felt when her only family member had failed to show up on an important day of hers, Mia had pleaded that it was time to let go. No more killing to pay the bills, and Zarek had promised to stop. However, Zarek had other things in mind. He thought he was born to kill for a living. That was not something he could walk away from. He thought it was part of who he was. Although twenty-seven, Zarek had had a rougher part of life than men who claimed to be twice or thrice his age, and Mia's anger wasn't a concern because he had better things to worry about.
One of the guards parked the car properly, and Zarek let himself into his apartment. He moved straight to the inner room, and pressing some codes, a door slid open, revealing all manner of weapons anyone could imagine. There were knives, pistols, snipers, grenades; but for the previous mission, Zarek had brought with him a Glock 43 compact pistol because he knew the target would be an easy one. A man in his mid-forties who had stepped on the wrong toes. Zarek put down the pistol and hung his coat. Left with only a black short and a singlet, he exited the room and slumped into the shower.
By the time he got out of the shower, the sun was already up, and Zarek soon hopped on his laptop. Sure enough, a notification message popped up on the screen, and Zarek quirked up a smile when he saw the digits. One million dollars had been credited into his account for a successful job. While Zarek was happy, he never forgot his background and how it all started, and sadness crept into his mind each time he remembered he had had to go begging in the streets and pick pockets just so he and Mia wouldn't go hungry.
However, he always consoled himself that it was all part of life, a process that made him stronger. Besides, what should he have done after losing his parents at the tender age of ten and with a baby sister to care for?
It all started as street begging after losing both parents to a ghastly car accident. His parents left nothing, as his dad was heavily in debt. Not long after, Zarek, only ten at the time, and his little sister were forced out of the building they once called home. It turned out their father had paid little to nothing to the mortgage company, and Zarek was forced to sleep in the cold, not knowing where his next meal would come from, or if he would ever eat at all.
But Zarek soon realized that begging for money wouldn't solve the problem. He wanted Mia, his baby sister, only seven years old at the time, to play with the other girls and not feel intimidated by their indignant status. The girls often mocked Mia, and Zarek had to smack a few on several occasions. But he later realized the girls weren't the problem.
Maybe he wasn't doing enough.
When Mia succumbed to illness, the confused young Zarek was walking on the street one day when he stumbled upon a wallet with a few bills. Since he had found a few bills, he figured he could get more bills if he had more wallets. Then Zarek resorted to picking pockets, and he achieved great results, and Mia became the happiest girl for a while. However, his luck soon ran out when he got caught.
Not by the police but by a man who wanted to take justice into his own hands.
Zarek had thought he was going to die that day. With a gun to his head, all he thought about was Mia.
Who would care for her?
But the tides turned in Zarek's favor when a gray-haired man came to his rescue. The gray-haired man was the leader of a notorious group, as Zarek would later find out. However, Zarek was surprised and stunned when he got handed a gun to kill another man tied to a chair.
As Zarek later discovered, the man tied to a chair was a spy sent by an enemy group.
Zarek didn't hesitate to pull the trigger because he knew he was being tested. Had he failed, he wouldn't have lived to see the next few minutes, and Mia would be left alone in a cruel world.
Zarek Slade had made his first kill at the age of ten, and the image of the man was still vivid in his memory. A light-skinned white male of average build. Zarek would never forget that face. Not because the man was his first kill but because it began a chain of events that led Zarek to become the greatest killer ever known.
"I'm going to pick up a few things from the grocery store," a voice came forth.
Zarek's attention drifted, and Mia registered. On her arm was a bag, claiming she wanted to go shopping. But Zarek knew she was only using it as an excuse to get away from him. She could order the world from her cellphone, and it would be brought to her in minutes. However, Zarek nodded and quickly did some typing on his cellphone.
Mia's eyes widened when she received a notification message on her phone.
"Use it, get yourself anything you want," Zarek remarked.
"But a hundred thousand is too much…"
"Don't say it. You still have the last one, but take this as additional. Anything for my baby sister, remember!" He smiled.
If Mia was happy, so was Zarek, and the money achieved its aim.
Mia rushed to give him a hug, and Zarek relished that he had a sister who cared for him. He had promised to stop taking jobs, and he understood the fear of a sister who was making sure that her only brother did not end up dead or go missing. However, Zarek thought he had outgrown some risks. He was a grown man, and a baby sister shouldn't be bothered.
"Thank you, but you have to promise me, Zi. Promise there won't be a next time," Mia said.
"I promise," Zarek said without much hesitation.
Mia wasn't convinced by his words. She needed more reassurance.
"Swear it, Zarek. Say you swear on our late mother."
Now, Zarek was forced into contemplation. Although he had only known the woman for nine and a half years of his life, he still held her in great esteem. But anything would do for his baby sister.
"I swear on our late mother." The words felt heavy on his tongue as he spoke.
Mia sighed. "Good."
"Okay, off you go. Be back before sundown."
"I will stop by at Sophia's place for some girl talk."
"Perfectly fine. Remember, no drinking; no smoking, and no boyfriend."
At this point, Mia's face turned to a steel expression. She was twenty-four, but Zarek still treated her like a teenager.
"Don't give me that look. You are always unlucky with men…except you want another tragedy to happen."
"I will be very careful this time," Mia said in a pleading tone, and Zarek always felt compelled to give in each time she did that.
Zarek sighed. "Okay, remember. Be back by eight. Anything above that is a no-no for me…understand?"
Mia nodded in excitement and soon exited the apartment. But Zarek knew that something might likely go wrong. He had killed a man who tried to have his way with Mia, and he wouldn't hesitate to do it a second time.
Zarek pulled out his cellphone and set a reminder to go look for Mia fifteen minutes after the agreed time. Not long after, a call came in.
The caller ID was unknown.
Zarek was used to getting this kind of calls, and it only meant one thing.
"Hello!"
"Mr. Slade, I have a job for you," a deep voice said at the other end of the line.