A/N: Warning, this chapter will contain Clint's first kill. It will haunt him for a while. It isn't graphic.
Crossover: None
Alias: Clinton Francis Barton
Age: 16
PART 1: CARSON'S CARNIVAL OF WONDERS
Chapter Three
Clint was mentally kicking himself for this. Why did he agree to kill a man? Especially when he didn't even have a weapon? HE shook his head and moved to the pawnshop, not even sure he can get something. He needs a bow and arrows. That's his weapon of choice. He's comfortable with it. Not that he's comfortable with killing someone...but he doesn't have money. So he's between a rock and a hard place. He slipped into the shop, his eyes zeroing on the bows. Then he felt a small smile slip onto his lips.
Layaway.
"Can I help you?" a voice asked behind him.
Clint turned to him and gave him a smile, hoping he didn't look nervous. "Hey. I was wondering how much to put a bow on layaway? A recurve."
The man moved forward, looking at the bows. "Ten percent down. Any bow, including the compounds. What are you looking to do? Hunting? Target practice?"
Clint swallowed. "Hunting. Long distance of course."
The man nodded. "I'd suggest a compound bow then. Less weight on the draw but it packs a stronger punch."
Clint nodded. "I've never used one...how difficult is it to draw? Can I try?"
The man hesitated and then offered Clint the bow. "Are you familiar with bows?"
"Recurves."
Clint accepted the bow and looked it over. He felt a thrill go through him as he looked at the shiny, brand new bow. "What do I need to set up a layaway? And when could I bring it home?"
The man shifted. "Layaway would need to be set up first, and then it would need to be paid off before you can take the bow."
Clint mentally cursed. That wouldn't work for him. He needed it now. "Any other options? I was hoping to go hunting this weekend...new season and all that."
"I'm afraid not unless you want to go ahead and pay for it in full," the man said.
Clint nodded. "Thank you. I'll have to see if I can swing that."
The man nodded and slipped away, replacing the bow. Clint knew then that he would need to steal a gun or something. A bow. But it would need to be something easy to slip onto his person. He just needed a way to do this job and get the things he needed. Then he could find an honest job.
Like the army.
He left the shop soon after, trying to come up with some way to kill the man. But...what if he didn't need to use his bow or a gun? What if he made it look like an accident? Clint decided then to follow his...target and see where he goes. What he does. Will there be a way to make his death happen? Clint had strong arms. There is a possibility that he could beat the man to death, but that didn't really sit well either. But he needed the papers so that he could start over. He wouldn't feel safe until this was done.
Clint got lucky that night. He managed to see his target slip out of a club to smoke in the alley out back. He took note of the two other men who were watching the alley, bodyguards no doubt. Clint wasn't going to pass this up. He could take those two out and then take out the last man. It would be over quick. Clint released a breath and then moved, dropping down from the fire escape. HE landed on the first man and managed to find a gun as it slid out onto the floor. Clint grabbed the gun quickly and without even thinking shot the man he had dropped dead. Then he turned the gun on his target, forgetting about the other man.
He pulled the trigger and killed the other man just as the forgotten guard pulled out his own gun and shot Clint. Clint grunted as he watched his target fall and turned, running out of the alley. He heard the steps behind him as stumbled, trying to run away. He knew he couldn't stop. Stopping would just end up killing him...or at least the man pursuing him would. Clint skidded around the corner, almost falling to the ground. More shots followed and he felt fear seep into his bones and his hands began to shake. But he held fast to the gun he had grabbed. It was his only weapon.
HE cut down another alley, pushing his legs to move faster. He turned to look behind him and saw that the man hadn't gotten there just yet. So he dived behind some dumpsters, still shaking slightly. He pressed back against the wall, trying to slow his breathing. He heard the runner slow, and chanced a peek to see what the man was doing. The man was looking through the alley, a gun pointed and ready to shoot. Clint held his breath, waiting and preying that the man would leave without finding him.
Clint wasn't sure how long he waited there, but eventually the man turned and left, grumbling and pulling out his phone to make a call. As Clint was left alone, he slouched and grimaced, a hand pressed against his side. Luckily he thinks it was only a flesh wound-a lot of blood but not life threatening. He gave it some time before he slipped back out and slowly walked the opposite way of the gunman. He had some papers to collect.
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