Day 7:
"Oi still don't get 'ow anyone could like American beers, Sheila."
"I know, right? Anyone who does is dumber than a bucket of hair. But, um, try and keep your eyes on the road, OK?"
Day seven. What started as a normal interview continuation turned into a discussion on American beers. Neither of them seemed to recall how.
"OK, Mundy, I got one;" Pepper cleared her throat and looked at some buildings they were passing by. "American beer is weak, pissy-tasting beer. British beer is strong pissy-tasting beer. And Australian beer is strong beery-tasting piss."
Pepper chuckled at that little joke of hers, though Mundy wasn't that impressed.
"Oi've got a better one. Wonna hear?
Pepper nodded, wondering what a joke sounds like when told by a hardened assassin.
"Olroight, stop me if you heard this one;" Mundy didn't look at her, but kept his eyes fixed up on the road. He cleared his throat.
"American beer is…like making love in a canoe."
"Making love in a canoe? Why's that?"
"It's fucking close to water."
Mundy looked straight at Pepper for the first time today, expecting her reaction. She, however, gave none. She picked at some skin under her fingernail. Her nail polish was cracked in the middle of each nail.
"Wot now, Sheila?"
"I'm not a big fan of puns." She shrugged. This made Mundy irritated.
"Well, at least you couldn't see mine a mile away!" he coughed and steered the wheel to the highroad. The van bumped on the road when they drove across a badly paved street. As a professional, nothing really seemed to bother him. Yet one joke taken badly from this girl, and he was about to blow. To calm himself down, he looked at the clear road. It was shining with a strange, beautiful golden glow. The sky was clear and azure, as it has always been here. He passed a couple of advertisements, exhibiting the new department of moustache sciences opening in another small town. He always loved living life on an open road; only a rifle by his side. He took a deep breath and whacked the bobble head for good measure. It shook vigorously. Mundy looked back at Pepper. She was now biting her fingernail, deep in thought. She was looking at her camera, still running but only capturing silence.
"Sheila? Can oi ask you something?" he asked at last.
"What?" Pepper turned to him, pointing the camera at him excitedly.
"It's about yesterday…"
"Let me stop you right there, koala brain." She snapped, looking straight into his deep brown eyes. Of course, she could only guess that they were brown behind those big sunglasses of his. "I told you, you talk about yesterday, and I talk about you sucking at hide-and-shoot."
Mundy shrugged.
"Oi just wanted to compliment your singing voice and ask you how you learned to sing so well, but…" he looked to the side, feeling Pepper's surprised look burning the back of his head. "If ye don't wanna talk about it…"
Pepper wasn't always the show off she was now. While she was in Texas, she was a modest, lovely girl. But even then, she wouldn't resist fishing out a compliment.
"Ooooh! I wanna tawk! I wanna tawk!" she said in her Bostonian Texan accent, kneeling on the chair and excitedly leaning towards the man, looking like an excited child.
"Okay then." He shrugged. "Where did you learn to sing so well?"
"Easy. The brothel. Tell me more about how good I sound!" she zoomed into his face, trying to capture every moment of his praise.
"They let you sing there?"
"They let me sing there. I'm the freakin' entertainment, sugar."
"Entertainment?" asked the marksman after he was taken aback with being called "sugar".
"Yeah. I get in, I sing, I spin around on a pole, or on a chair or something…" Pepper moved the camera away, realizing that she wasn't going to get more compliments. "Sometimes I just drink some scotch. And I sing. Aaaaand, that's pretty much it."
Mundy seemed slightly dazed. "That's what you do?" he looked at her, surprised. "I always thought you were a…"
"A concubine?" she batted her long eyelashes, making him feel slightly guilty. The girl knew how to manipulate someone, and she probably did so frequently.
"So you're really tellin' me that the brothel is just a venue?"
"Yeah. I mean, it ain't exactly a bar, or a hotel lobby, but…"
"And Cinnabun…?"
"Cinnamon." she corrected him. Then she tossed her hand back, cackling. "No, no, no, she's a hooker, 100 percent." She leaned to him mischievously. "Don't tell her parents, though. They think she's in a convent."
"Well…" Mundy returned to looking at the glowing road, now becoming red as the sun began to set.
"You surprise me, Sheila. More and more every day. Next thing you're going to tell me is that you're… a virgin, or something."
Pepper didn't say anything.
Suddenly, the van came to a screeching halt, the bobble head fell on its back, and Pepper almost fell on the command board. The engine howled in protest, but soon stopped. Mundy was looking straight at the frightened girl, clutching her camera close to her chest. He took off his glasses, confirming Pepper's doubts that his eyes were not only brown, but a deep dark chocolate brown, the kind you can stare at for days, mesmerized by them.
"Are you honestly telling me that you're a virgin?" his voice was slightly skeptical, and it made Pepper blush.
"Well… I'm not a virgin… completely…"
"Wot do you mean, "completely"?" he leaned back into his chair.
"Well, I've had boyfriends…I… made-out with them and so…" her face turned beet red for some reason. Mundy's laughing didn't help at all.
"Oh, olroight then. In that case, you ain't a virgin. Hey! I flew in an airplane once! Maybe now I can fly!"
"Okay, okay, it's not the same as…" Pepper blushed.
"Oh, no, no. It's completely the same! Hey! Oi 'aven't died yet! Maybe oi'm immortal!"
"Point taken."
Mundy was now leaning in his chair, not caring that his van was in the middle of the road.
"Oh look, oi drank orange juice! Maybe now oi'm an orange! Oi saw the Queen once! Maybe oi'm the next heir to the bloody throne!"
"Shut up!" Pepper clenched her fists. "What do you care, anyway?"
Mundy looked at her, huffing with anger.
"Oi don't care, oi'm just surprised. Oi mean… you work in a brothel, so that raised some doubts… And besides… look at yourself!" he made a vague hand gesture, pointing at her. Pepper smiled at him.
"R-really?" Mundy noticed her smile and promptly started the engine, looking away from her.
"That wasn't a compliment. Oi'm merely implying that you dress loike a whore."
"Screw you." Pepper said as they were driving away. She turned off the camera, looking at her reflection in the dusty window; she wore an oversized shirt and grey jeans.
That was a compliment and you know it, sugar.
Day 8:
Pepper and Mundy were sitting in a rest stop close to Melbourne. They were sitting on a terrace, drinking small cups of coffee from the small café near the gas station. Gas station coffees were the thing; drink one sip and you're not sleeping tonight at all. Drink the whole cup and you won't blink for a lifetime.
Pepper's hair was dripping wet, since she just came out of the shower and only got dressed before she decided to indulge herself in strong Turkish liquid delight.
"You shower too often, Sheila." Mundy said.
"Well, excuse me if I like to bathe every week." was her response, rubbing her hair with a small towel she brought. This was the first time she ever dried her hair in a public place. She smiled at that thought and started filming the rest stop. It looked incredibly nice, the big luscious bushes surrounding it. A couple of birds chirped on the red rooftop, before they flew off to one of the four large pines. There was sand on this rest stop, and the smell reminded Pepper of the beach she and her family went to every July. She couldn't come with them this year, but her sister Sarah sent her a postcard along with her letter. She loved those letters of hers. It made her feel connected to her family even though she was miles away from them. She wondered if Mundy had a family to go back to, when he's done with his little killing spree.
Mundy seemed deep in thought today. Some people called him and offered him a job at some company. He refused, because he always preferred working alone, not bound by anyone. The problem was that these people continued to call him, the last phone call being particularly strange. They mentioned "dire circumstances" and a large amount of money. Mundy thought it was a scam, but still, he wondered.
He looked at Pepper, struggling to finish her cyanide-tasting coffee. He felt slightly guilty for calling her a whore the first day he met her. It was strange, they knew each other for a week, yet didn't know anything about each other.
"Why did your folks name you Pepper, Sheila?" he asked, much to Pepper's surprise.
"You… you're asking me?"
The marksman frowned. The young girl rubbed her face, trying to concentrate.
"Um, okay then… how do I start… ummm… You know what recessive genes are, right?"
Mundy nodded, already knowing that this tale of hers won't exactly be riveting.
"Well, none of my neighbors did. You see, everyone in my family is a typical blondie, ya know? Blonde hair, blue eyes… Though my grandmas are both of Irish descent. But they dyed their hair, so no one would notice, right?"
She looked away, looking at the small sand particles caught between her moist toes. She dug her feet deeper in them. Mundy stared at his empty coffee cup, wanting her to get on with the story.
"So anyway, I was born. First day, and I already had this big, frizzy red hair. My folks are both blonde, ya know? But they knew why I wasn't. Their neighbors and friends, however…" she huffed, leaning on her chair.
"Soon, they started talkin' these rumors, right? That my mom cheated on dad and stuff? But she didn't, she never would! And all those people just wanted to gossip just because they have nothing important to say." She was getting angry. She stomped her foot in the thick sand.
"Rumors don't know much about genetics, as it turned out." She shook her head. Mundy looked up at her. What she was saying was so strangely passionate. He leaned his head against his hand, letting out a discouraging sigh. It was a reflex he had whenever he listened to someone talk for more than two minutes. Pepper didn't seem to notice it.
"So, anyway, mom was desperate. She even dyed my hair blonde until I was a year old. So, anyway, I was one month old, and still had no name." Pepper suddenly looked at the sky, talking to someone else. Maybe she tried to talk to her parents back home, or maybe she found it easier to concentrate.
"One day my dad found something in the yard. It was a pepper plant. Nobody planted it, nobody intended on planting it. It just stood there, in the middle of the damn yard. Just this one little plant that didn't belong there, but made everything so much more elegant… so much more exotic. My dad liked that plant. I don't know if it's true, but according to dad, it made the best pepper." She chuckled, leaning slightly forward.
"So then my dad gets this amazing idea of naming me after it. My mom was devastated. She begged him to reconsider, and give me a name like Sarah or Mary-Sue, or Doreen, or…" she looked at the table, disgusted. "Or Ellery."
Mundy laughed at the thought that this girl sitting before him could have been named Ellery.
"Luckily, my dad was more persuasive. And so, I continued to grow in the Bee Cave of a yard. Just me, a single Pepper… and I made everything better and more different for all the Ellerys out there." She concluded and leaned over her chair.
"So, in conclusion, I'm named Pepper because I'm a special unique creature." She smiled smugly. Mundy looked up at her.
"That's a cute story, Sheila."
He remained quiet for one brief moment.
"Victor…"
"I'm sorry, what?" asked the special unique creature almost called Ellery or Mary-Sue.
"Oi said that moi name is Victor, Sheila. Since I know about your name, it's only fair that you know mine."
Pepper chuckled.
"Cool! I heard Victor means "the one who conquers" in Latin."
I'm glad Cinnamon isn't here. I can imagine her now; "Victor, the one who conquers my heart."
"That's a pretty badass name if you think about it. Why'd your parents give it to ya?"
Victor shrugged.
"Probably because they bloody felt like it."
Day 9:
"So why did you call yourself Peppermint, then?"
Pepper cleaned the lens of her camera with a small handkerchief. She kept looking at her nails, wondering if this hired assassin and wildlife hunter had any acetone. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing she would have found here. This man had weapons, various magazines, some more…educational than the others, and on top of that, had an interesting habit of collecting his victim's teeth. Pepper tossed the hankerchief in her lap and looked at Victor Mundy, eagerly waiting for her response.
Eagerly being the term used loosely, of course.
"Well, all the otha girls in the brothel had edible names. Like Cinnamon, Cookie, Strawberry, Chicken Strip…"
"What was that?" Victor looked at her in slight surprise.
"Strawberry. Any way…" she sat up straight in her seat; "if you actually go to a brothel, and you actually bother to stick around to see the show, would you rather listen to Peppermint, or Pepper Conagher?"
"Honestly?" he put his left right hand on the steering wheel; "I would rather see Pepper."
"Yeah, well… not everyone is like that." She casually turned on the camera. "I'm trying to protect my parents, more than anything."
"Oh really, how so?" he looked at some cacti that looked like people waving at them. They were back in the desert, the ideal place to commit a homicide and not get caught. Strangely enough, most Australium dealers were in the desert, because they can deal all they want and never get caught. Of course, if Mundy is in question, never say never.
He knew that the man he was looking for wasn't going to come here until tomorrow, but this will give him the time to explore the area and find a decent camping spot. He told Pepper to keep her eyes peeled too, even showing her the picture of the man. She commented something about him looking like some guy from Herman's Hermits, bit her lip and quietly moaned.
"No, we can't "let him off the hook" because "he's dreamy", Sheila."
"How so?" Pepper suddenly interrupted Mundy in his train of thought. "If you worked in a brothel in any way, shape or form, would you tell them? I mean, Peppermint could be anybody, but there is only one Pepper Conagher. So, what if word came around was singin' in a stuffy room full of rich, horny guys? They would disown me! Not to mention I'd bring shame to my family."
"If you feel like that, why were you employed there in the first place?"
Pepper looked at her lap, some sorrow in her eyes.
"I… I needed the money, ya know? And it seemed okay enough. I just sung, danced around a bit… but my parents wouldn't approve, either way."
"Of course you needed the money, they always do." He rolled his eyes, a slightly silly movement he picked up from Pepper. He squinted, trying to control the unwanted eye reflex. "And 'ow do you know they won't approve? You work hard, you have a lovely voice… you're a virgin for God's sake! What's not to approve of?"
Pepper turned her head and gazed into the distance.
"They're pretty mad about me leaving Texas and going to Boston. The thing is, many teens go somewhere else, where I come from, and only a few come back. I understand why… I mean, family is family, but the feeling of freedom is… indescribable."
Victor listened to Pepper closely. He had the same feeling when he was a kid.
"I know what you mean, Sheila. I grew up in a small farm in Adelaide. Adelaide Street, the red house on the left." He said, as if Pepper knew all the streets by heart. She smiled at him, zooming in the camera.
"We lived a peaceful loife there, a small farm, many pets… it was almost too peaceful. Oi found it to be quite boring after a while, so oi went hunting. Mum never really approved of me goin' off, hunting and so. But oi loiked it. So I continued to go. When oi was 18, loike you, oi went on me first month long hunting trip. When oi finally got home, me mum practically smacked me, told me never to do that again." He cackled at the thought.
"And oi didn't… until about six months later. The hunting trips became longer, the prey more satisfyin'. You're roight, Sheila. There's no place loike home…" he looked at the camera, held by this strange being that made him talk to another person for more than five minutes, for the first time in months.
"But then again, who wants to be home all the toime?"
Pepper nodded.
"I guess we both have it tough then, huh, Mundy?"
"You have it tough? Hardly." he sneered.
"No, seriously." She moved the camera away from him for a second. "Everything I do would be frowned upon from where I come from. My folks are great, but… they wouldn't let me listen to the Stones, they wouldn't let me dress the way I do, they wouldn't let me write…"
"Hold on. You write, Sheila?"
The girl reached deep into a small bag. She pulled out a dozen sheets of paper. Mundy couldn't see what they said, but he recognized verses, written in cursive with a green pen.
"I write song lyrics. About things that happen, you know? Not that anyone's going to read them…" she shoved the papers back into the bag.
"I never knew someone actually bothered with those silly things. Not unless they had to, of course." Mundy shook his head. Pepper looked at him with slight sadness in her eyes.
"Now you sound like my dad." They both bowed their heads down, sitting in awkward silence.
"Your dad… seems strict."
"He's actually a very good dad. He's pretty low-maintenance, but…" she placed her little round head against the dusty window, sighing loudly.
"The man has 11 PhDs. And he wanted me to take on the tradition and go to California to study hard science, like him and his grandpa." She looked at Mundy, with a slight wry smile.
"Guess how that turned out?"
"So what you're saying is that… you're a disappointment?"
Pepper looked at Victor Mundy, innocently flicking his bobble head. She stared at him, white hot anger streaming out of her eyes.
"We're back to that? Are you seriously back to that?"
He ignored her, but she seemed angrier.
"You don't call someone a disappointment! You never do!" she stood up and clenched her fists, practically yelling, her voice piercing his ears like a harpoon.
"Listen here, you schmuck!" she cursed at him, with a seemingly innocent word she picked up from Cinnamon; "I am not a freakin' disappointment, okay?"
Mundy continued to flick his bobble head.
"My folks don't even know what I do! How am I a disappointment then? You…you think you're all high and mighty, being an assassin and all?! Do your parents know about that?"
Mundy kept quiet while Pepper was breathing heavily.
"They don't, do they? They don't. Well at least I don't go around killing people! I am not a freakin' disappointment! You are the freaking disappointment, Mundy!"
Suddenly, the van stopped with incredible force, making Pepper fall to the ground. She was about to say something, when she saw Mundy, his hands gripping the wheel tightly and his nostrils flaring.
"Get…out." He managed through his grinding teeth.
"W-what?"
"Get out of the bloody van, Sheila." He said, his voice was jittery, even though he tried to control in. "Get your camera, and piss off."
"Oh, come on, Mundy…" she stood up, picking her camera up, recording everything.
"Nobody calls me a bloody disappointment! Now get out of me bloody van!"
"Mundy, don't be like…"
"Did oi stutter?! Piss off!"
"Can I just…?" she pointed at her suitcase.
"Now!" he cried, making Pepper run in terror. She stepped on the hot sand near the road. Mundy marched after her and slammed the door shut just in front of her face. Pepper flinched as the whiteness of the door buzzed in front of her eyes.
"And stay out!" he screamed from the inside. Pepper looked at the van with tears in her eyes, remembering about his warning a few days back.
"Oi swear to God, if you screw this up, Sheila, I will personally toss you out on the street. Got it? You fuck this up, and you're walking to Boston!"
She sniffed quietly as the van drove into the never ending road, leaving Pepper completely alone. She had this coming. Now she was all alone in the middle of nowhere, only her camera by her side. It was still running.
"Well, world, this is it." She looked worriedly around herself. "If I die out here, blame my film professor."
With that, she turned off the camera.
Pepper wasn't a stupid girl. He knew that if she walked into the desert, she would be a goner for sure. She walked along the road, the setting sun blinding her. She reached out her thumb, hoping that maybe, someone would pass by. She crept along the road in a steady pace, putting her thumb out. Her camera was heavy, and she constantly had to adjust it, so it wouldn't fall off. She didn't let herself cry, knowing that she had this coming.
She has been walking for twenty minutes, her eyes were red with sand and tears kept in, her martens were filled with sand, and seemed to cut off her legs with every step. She wasn't thirsty, but she was tired, tired enough to lay on the road forever. A thousand worries ran through her head, one nastier than the other. Mundy was right to call her a disappointment. If she died out here, would her family care? Would they try to hush it up, to keep the neighbors from talking? Her stomach rumbled from such a thought. She sighed and continued to drag her feet across the burning pavement.
Suddenly, she saw something approaching. It was a camper van. She reached her thumb out, not caring that it went in a different direction from where she wanted to go. But the closer it came, to lower her thumb went, and by the time the camper van was standing in front of her, her hand was limp and hanging idly by her side. She averted her head.
The van made a sudden U-turn, leaning to the left. Pepper closed her eyes at the horrible noise, but continued to look away. The dusty window rolled down, and a man with a panama stuck his head out.
"Alroight, Sheila, you can come back in."
"Why would I? You shooed me out?"
The man scoffed. "Would I honestly leave you out here to starve? Please, Sheila. Professionals have standards."
No matter how hard Pepper wanted to protest, she had to get back inside. She opened the door and collapsed on the seat, coughing out some of the dust. The sun was now completely red, and it shined at her face, making her close her eyes.
"Oi hope you learned your lesson, Sheila." He said, seemingly calm, and began to drive again.
The poor girl nodded, clutching a bruise she got when she fell in the van. They drove for about two minutes before Pepper got the courage to apologize.
"I'm sorry I've been a nosy bitch." She bowed her head down.
"Oi'm sorry oi'm a sexy rogue that doesn't ever miss and looks damn good wearin' a hat."
Pepper looked at him, confused, but he soon explained:
"You don't apologize for something that you are, Sheila. You apologize for something that you do."
That being said, Pepper started playing with her fingers quietly, her stomach acting up again. Suddenly, Mundy mumbled something under his breath.
"Oi'm sorry oi over-reacted." He said quickly. Pepper looked at him in bemusement before running over to him, squeezing him tightly. She made him lose his balance, and the van swiveled on the road.
"I knew it!" she pressed her face against his.
"Wot the bloody hell, Sheila?" he protested.
"Oh shut up, Mundy! I knew you cared about me! I knew it." She said, ignoring his stubble digging deep into her soft cheek.
Oddly enough, Mundy didn't protest at that.
Day 10:
Not having anything to film today, Pepper basked in the sound of being contained in a moving cubicle with a quiet socially awkward Australian. The first thing she did was eat a ham sandwich she made. Then she tapped the soles of her feet against the floor a bit. She looked around the metal construction of the van. It was relatively dark inside, even though the sun was shining brightly, as always. She groaned and began fingering a small white ashtray near the bobble head. It had one cigarette butt in it, the grey ashes smeared over the white porcelain surface. The funny thing was that she never saw Mundy smoke before.
"Piss." Mundy commented as he missed a turn. Normally, he knew every road and shortcut by heart, but today it angered him that the man he was looking for was nowhere to be found. He circled the area a couple of times, cursing his employer for not giving him an exact spot. He got another call from the company that wanted to hire him. He politely told them off, telling them that he wasn't interested in their offer. He hated them for being persistent and considering him a sell-out.
Pepper was bored out of her mind, and knew that she was not going to get a word from Mundy today. With a swift grab, she took a sheet of paper in her hand and began writing on it with a green pen. She always loved the color green. The heavy metal scent around the van seemed to have lifted when Pepper rolled down the window. Inspired by the crisp, fresh air, she began to write on it, the pen dancing on the paper.
"Wot's that, then?" asked Mundy politely, after Pepper dabbled on the paper for over ten minutes.
"Just thinking of a new song that popped into mind." She squinted at her text. "I've been told that I'm quite good at writing these."
"Told by who?" asked Mundy.
"Well, there is this guy…" she started. Mundy sighed and tossed his head back.
"Of course there's a guy. There's always a guy."
"No, no. It's not like that." Said Pepper defensively. "He's just a friend. He works with my dad. About a year older than me, but I don't think he hit puberty yet." she giggled.
"Wot's his name?"
"Mikey. He has been obsessed with me since fifth grade. One time he proposed to me by putting an onion ring on my finger. See this?" she pointed at her right ring finger, the base of it was lightly red and chafed.
"This is because he didn't let me take the retarded thing off for over two hours." she rubbed her finger tenderly. "Sometimes, I still smell the oily onion on it."
"So this Mikey… he's just a friend?" asked Mundy with a slight unnoticeable gleam of hope in his eye.
"I wouldn't say that. I try and avoid him as much as I can, yet he seems obsessed with me.
"You're a cruel one, Sheila." Victor noticed. He looked back at the sheet of paper. "So wot are you workin' on?"
"Just this one ballad of sort…"
"Can I 'ear it?"
Pepper shrugged, blushing slightly.
"Fine then… but it's not my fault if you hate it."
Mundy nodded at her encouragingly. Pepper cleared her throat, as she did before any performance.
I have climbed the highest mountain.
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you…
Only to be with you…
Pepper blushed, but was relieved when she saw Mundy bobbing his head to the side, listening carefully to her.
I have run,
I have crawled.
I have scaled these city walls.
These city walls.
Only to be with you…
She sung softly, melodically. She had the sweetest voice Mundy had ever heard. He was more than disappointed when she stopped singing.
"That's all I've got." She shrugged.
"Not bad…" Victor tried to act unimpressed.
"I still haven't found what I'm looking for…"
"Pardon?"
"I still don't know what to do with the chorus. I'm losing my touch. I shouldn't even be writing this." She sighed, crumpling the piece of paper between her fingers, and dropping it in her bag. Mundy looked at the paper ball falling deep into her dark shoulder bag, almost wanting to reach out and grab it.
"Well, Sheila, honestly…" he looked at her slowly. "I thought it was beautiful."
Pepper smiled. And suddenly, something happened. The temperature in the van rose for about ten degrees, and a golden glow filled the drab vehicle. A thousand angels sung, and pretty pink unicorns flew around her face. It was magical. If the heavens came down to the Earth, they still wouldn't be as magnificent as this. Pepper opened her mouth and narrowed her sparkling eyes, almost blinded by shock/surprise/stupid euphoria.
"Mundy… are you… are you smiling?"
"No!" he defensively looked back on the road, frowning again. The van became freezing cold, the darkness returned, the angels' voices became croaked and the unicorns flew out of the window, possibly to rob a liquor store. Still, Pepper's eyes still sparkled, and they were looking straight at this beautiful man.
"You smiled, knucklehead." She turned away; "You smiled, sugar."
Day 13:
Pepper was sitting in the van, working on yet another poem. Mundy was out for over five hours now, and she was starting to get the picture of why he was alone for so long. Nobody could endure the waiting. During the past few days, while he was hunting for the elusive dealer in this desert, she managed to get out one piece of information from him. She asked him about his love life yesterday.
"Caroline." was his only response.
"What is she? Your girlfriend? Wife?"
"Former girlfriend. She, uh… she was also a hunter. Not an assassin, though."
"What happened to her?" Pepper thought of all the possible scenarios, all including her tragic death, which would explain why Mundy was so edgy all the time.
"She simply got bored. One day, she just got out of the van and got into some guy's limousine. She said she couldn't live off love and prey, and that the world revolved around money.
"The bitch." Commented Pepper, making Mundy laugh.
"She… she called me a disappointment, too. Just before she left."
Pepper gave him a small reassuring smile before turning off the camera. The marksman grabbed her shoulders before taking his sniper rifle.
"People change, Sheila. People change eventually, and when they do, they stay like that forever." He walked out of the van. Pepper climbed up on her seat, looking at him;
"Why do you think that is, Mundy?"
"The feelin's they 'ave. Those feelin's make blokes bludgeon their wives to death with their 22 carat golf trophy."
Pepper opened her mouth.
"Is that what happened to…?"
The marksman shrugged, slowly closing the door behind him.
"I warned her about 'im. But she didn't want to listen to a "disappointment" like myself."
He then walked out of the van, went to his camping spot, and stayed there for five hours before he finally returned. Pepper was inspired to write a song about Caroline, imagining her as the tall, tan, gold digging blondie. Mundy was gone for five hours today, too. Pepper still wrote her song, which she hid as soon as she heard him enter.
Now I ain't sayin' she's a gold digger,
But she ain't messing with no broke…
She quickly crumpled the paper as Mundy walked in, a rifle on his bag and three full jars of urine in his hand. No teeth in a plastic bag.
"No luck, huh?"
"I 'ave a feeling someone got 'im before me." He huffed. Pepper suddenly got a disturbing image of the first corpse she saw. She shuddered. It has been a while, but she still had occasional dreams about that day. And she remembered it every time she heard "Satisfaction" on the radio.
"Now what?" she asked, propping herself up on the seat. Mundy looked at the starry night. Some crickets chirped in the distance.
"We'll camp out 'ere. It's too dangerous to drive at night."
"Says an assassin." smirked Pepper. "So what do we do now?"
Mundy put his sniper rifle away neatly on its rack.
"We don't do anything. Oi'm gonna get some sleep." And with that he walked up to the red couch, collapsing on it and promptly falling asleep. Pepper couldn't sleep yet, so she squinted at the paper, trying to write a song that suits Caroline better. She licked the tip of her green pen, pressing it on the clear white surface.
And it's about time that you know,
That not all that glitters is gold.
You could have lived a happy life, maybe
But sadly, gold was the death of you, baby…
Pepper yawned and looked at Mundy. He lay on his stomach, his head facing the wall, snoring. She smiled, thinking about how calm he looked. Feeling sleepy, but still eager to finish the song, she opened the window to let in some invigorating fresh air. She looked at the full moon raised high up in the sky. A couple of wolves howled in unison, but Pepper didn't find it scary, but merely hypnotic. She leaned in the chair, rubbing her eyes. She gazed upon the small shrubberies, dried up from the sun. All of a sudden, she heard a crackling sound.
She sat up and stopped breathing, trying to hear it better. The crackling didn't stop, and she could see a slim silhouette running across the field. Whoever the man was, he was in a hurry. For one brief moment, a small speck of moonlight illuminated his face. Pepper almost shrieked. This was the man Mundy was looking for. This was the ridiculously handsome Australium dealer. The man ran up to a telephone booth roughly a few yards away. Mundy called his parents from that booth. The man they were looking for was now standing at point blank range. Pepper went completely silent. The man could see the van clearly, but figured that it was abandoned. And the darkness made Pepper's silhouette difficult to see.
Pepper should've woken up Mundy. But then she would risk alerting the man of their presence. Yet there the man stood, carefully dialing a number, briefcase in one hand. The shot was perfect, even Pepper knew that. And if they missed this opportunity…
Pepper aimed the camera towards the open window, trying not to make a sound. She wasn't sure what would happen, but she was probably supposed to film it. Meanwhile, the man hung up and dialed the number again, giving Pepper more time to think this through. A wild idea popped into her head when she saw Mundy's rifle hanging on the wall.
You can do this, Pepper. Daddy always used to take you to hunting trips when you were younger. Just remember, shoot in the eye.
She carefully took the rifle off the wall.
Remember, if this man didn't deserve to die, he wouldn't be on the list. Do not consider this man human. Think of the people he killed. An eye for an eye, remember that.
She pointed the rifle at the man, oblivious to what was happening near him. Pepper looked through the scope, and aimed at his eye, focused on dialing the payphone, not looking at anything else.
I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this. I'm a pacifist. I never liked killing all those little animals, anyway. I can't do this. I can't do this…
Her hands shook, and her throat closed up. If she missed, Mundy would think of her as a disappointment. It was a clear shot. The man opened his mouth to speak to the person on the other end.
You're Texan, of course you can do this, dang it!
Mundy was woken up by a gunshot, followed by Pepper's screaming and crying. He rushed over to see her, leaning out the window, holding his rifle. She barely managed to explain what happened. As soon as she did, Mundy ran out of the car, the file in his hand. Pepper was next to him, barely standing on her feet.
"Yep. That's him. You've done well, Sheila. Sheila?"
The girl was crying, tears running down her eyes. Without saying a word, she crossed off the man's name with a green pen.
"It was quite a good shot, Sheila. Ever considered doing this professionally?"
Pepper whimpered, slowly making her way back to the van. Mundy shrugged and began pulling the man's teeth as a memorabilia.
"Not so handsome now, are ya, you cunt?"
About twenty minutes later, Mundy was back on the sofa again, trying to sleep. He heard quiet whimpering. Pepper stood in front of him, clutching her shoulders.
"How do you do this?" she asked quietly, almost a whisper.
"It gets easier with time, Sheila. You got it on camera?"
Pepper nodded.
"Good girl." he groaned and moved closer to the wall, making some room for her.
"Oi'd hate it if you stood loike that all night. Hop in." he smacked the soft red surface with his hand. Pepper managed to smile, laying with him for the first time.
His strong, lean arms went around her, comforting her. They squeezed her shaking body tightly, bringing her closer to him. He fell asleep, but she remained awake. She could feel his soft, warm breath on her tender neck, and his stubble on her face. She ran her hand over his bicep, the feel of his skin against hers calmed her, somehow. No matter what happens, this man will be there for her. This arrogant, wicked, irresistible man will always be there to hold her close if something goes wrong. She smiled, feeling his heartbeat slowing down more and more.
She didn't sleep a blink that night, yet felt calm and completely relaxed when his reassuring smile was the first thing she saw that day.
Day 16:
It was a hot late summer day. Mundy didn't have anything in mind, nothing to hunt, no one to kill. Yesterday the two of them went on a hunting trip, catching a couple of jack rabbits, some birds Pepper didn't know much about, and a strange antelope-looking creature that they roasted on an open fire. Pepper started to enjoy Australia more than she thought she would, slowly getting used to killing being a part of Victor's everyday life. Two days after she killed the man, she couldn't sleep and was constantly haunted by nightmares. So, again, Mundy volunteered to give up half of his couch, so she could get some sleep. On the third day, she managed to comprehend that the man was a public enemy, and had to be terminated. That made her feel better, somehow. But she still slept with Mundy, not being able to get enough of him.
That day was a lazy one. They set up camp for the day on a large field. The only thing they set up outside were two chairs. Mundy was rummaging through a closet in his camper van, while Pepper lay outside, looking at her clear nails. Turns out, the brutal assassin actually had some acetone. He kept it on the top shelf, along with some more "educational reading material" and a pair of handcuffs.
Kinky little son of a bitch, aren't you?
She lifted up her freshly shaved legs, admiring the glow they had. For the first time in two weeks, she looked good. Her hair turned slightly lighter, and she managed to get a tan over her burnt skin. She gave up her miniskirts and corsets for plain T-shirts and shorts. Best decision of her life. She had this overall natural glow, and she loved it. Yesterday, she found herself looking at her reflection in the mirror, checking herself out for over ten minutes. She truly, truly loved Australia.
At that moment, Mundy came out, holding something in his hand that resembled a necklace. Pepper lifted her sunglasses, trying to get a closer look at it.
"What's that?" she pointed at it.
"Now these…" he lifted the necklace up. "These are teeth of an elusive white crocodile found in a wetland north of Sydney. The croc gave me a hard time…took me a week to locate 'im."
Pepper was about to comment on how impressive his dedication was, when she noticed one strange thing about Victor.
The guy's not wearing a shirt.
"Anyway, I figured that these beaut's look better together than in a box in my closet." He said, presenting the three sharp ivory teeth held together by a thin egg shell colored piece of string. Each tooth had a small metal tip on top of it. Pepper wasn't looking at the teeth, though.
"Fascinating…" she said, looking at him.
I can fry a freakin' egg on that stomach of his…
"Roight. It was a bit of a pain to make. Took me about two hours…"
"Mhmmm…" Pepper mumbled.
I just wanna grab two drum sticks and do a drum solo on those babies.
"But today, oi figured… Are you alroight, Sheila? Something wrong?"
"Nothing!" she looked at his face. "Absolutely nothing." She bit her tongue after making the dreaded pun.
"Anyway…" he continued; "Oi figured these would look better on you than they would on me."
Pepper blinked at him once. "You…you want me to wear it?"
Victor nodded. "May oi?"
Pepper sat on her chair, moving her wavy hair out of the way. Victor kneeled behind her, putting the thread on her smooth, silky neck. He tied it with his nimble fingers before he ran them down her back. He continued to kneel when she began to turn to him. Pepper fingered the smooth surface of the tooth. It was surprisingly cold.
"How do I look?" she asked, looking at the man.
"You look… enchanting." he managed to say at last. Pepper blushed.
"Thanks, Mundy."
Suddenly, Mundy cupped her head in his hands. He brought her head closer to him. Pepper waited for this moment for what seemed like an eternity. She ran her fingers through his long, smooth hair. She closed her eyes to bask in the upcoming glory. She puckered up, leaning forward, feeling every cell in her body burning. And then…
Nothing.
Pepper managed to open her eyes, only to see Mundy, still cupping her head, with a sorrowful look, his eyes sunk and his mouth frowned slightly.
"I can't…"
He moved away from her.
"I can't, Sheila." He stood up, looking at Pepper who clutched her new necklace.
"You're a great kid, Sheila. But you are still just a kid."
And with that, he walked away. Pepper looked at his bare back as he walked to the van. She hugged her knees. She has never felt so rejected in all of her life.
"Damn it!" she kicked her feet upwards, twitching her body in a series of angry spasms, before she lay on her side, biting her thumb in shame.
She could've killed Mundy just then. It wouldn't have been the first time she killed a man. She clutched her head, groaning in agony. She has been here for 16 days, and already she was irrefutably, hopelessly smitten with a man old enough to be her father.