In the past, my family was the light. In the darkness of the world in which I existed, my wife and baby stood as the ray of goodness that drove away the evils of the street, and the apathy of a careless world. Even in death, their memory used to be a bright shining flame. But as I stood over my latest victim, maimed, bleeding on the floor, I knew that they had faded. They were a single, burning ember in the oubliette that my soul had become. And what I had just done threatened to snuff it out forever.
Be wary of the evil, lest evil you become.
The Emperor was hobbled. The first toe put him in shock. He barely noticed the second. But by three, and then four, his senses returned and he had spilled the beans. And the mashed potatoes, and the fried chicken, and everything else on the buffet. In my crimson fury I had found out more about the Emperor than I had ever wanted to know. And now he huddled in a ball on the floor sobbing, blood oozing from his ruined foot. I was staring at him, but my vision went beyond him, trying to rationalize this.
I raised the gun mechanically, old impulse, finger flexing on the trigger. Old habits. Dying hard. The usual. But I was numb, not even enough rage left to really care if I sent a bullet into this...person. I would regret it later, I knew, but I needed to get away from this. Needed to think.
I tie Hirohito up with telephone cord and gagged him tight, stuffing him under his big expensive desk. Might not last forever, but it would keep him out of action, hopefully long enough for me to get a jump on what he had told me. I sneek out through the fire escape to the street below, replacing the blood-soaked aroma of the criminal pagoda with the pungent odor of smog and exhaust. I was in a daze of conflict. What had I become? Was I still in this to avenge the innocent? Those that had killed my family were all dead. Justice had been served. But now I was doing it for vengeance, and survival. But torturing a man, even one as slimy as the Emperor...
I had to push that aside. There were bigger things going on. Through his whimpers, Emperor had confessed that he had been approached by a "mysterious group" to facilitate distribution of Valkyr across Europe and Asia. That had been a year ago. That had to have been Nicole Horne. But someone had shown up a week ago, claiming they represented the enterprise under "new management." Emperor was more than happy to start the project anew. He had the contacts across the water to get things going, but his shipping concern was being watched too closely by the Feds to deliver the goods himself. "Don't worry," they told him, "we have others working on that."
Who was my enemy now? Who would have the knowledge and the callousness to revive the Valkyr menace? Who had I left alive?
Emperor was to oversee the first shipment tonight, to be loaded on to a freighter at the docks. A bit of insurance, so Hirohito could assure his partners of what they were getting in return for all their hard-stolen money. I had a few hours to kill, and it was best I put some distance between me and my latest assault. Besides, I wasn't feeling so hot. Gunshot wounds can do that to a guy. I needed help.
I stumbled through the urban landscape, my mind swimming with thoughts of guilt, revenge, pain...it all became a blur. And so did my vision. I stumbled. I fell. And I didn't stop falling.
In the dream I'm running, a pale sun shining behind me, laughing in the voice of my wife, getting dimmer and dimmer with each step away from it. And my shadow is there, too, keeping pace behind me, getting closer. I run faster, but it's glued to me, forever a part of me. I turn to face it, and it stops as well, staring at me. A knife appears, and I bend to try and cut it away from where it connects at my feet. I slice through the shaded legs like they were fabric, and then I'm done. And it's released. It's free. And it grins at me.
What have I done?
I open my eyes, and the pain lets me know I'm still alive. The next thing that registers is the light, near sundown, warming my face. I turn to look, and I see a priest.
"A crimefighter and a priest walk into a bar..." I mumble, mostly to myself.
"What was that, my son?" He's as old as my mom's bible, and about as soft around the edges. Already I feel guilty.
"Where am I?"
"St. Mark's. I found you lying on the doorstep, unconscious. I almost called the police...but I had a feeling that might do you more harm than good, right now." Color me shocked: a cool priest.
I sat up slowly. My arm had been bandaged like a pro, and I could already feel the strength returning. It had been a through-and-through, thankfully. "Where did you learn to bandage like that? It's a bit more than basic first-aid." He smiled at me, but it was a smile more of grim remebrance than of kindness.
"I was a medic in Vietnam. Haven't had to treat a gunshot wound in a long, long time. But, it's like riding a bike. I'm Father Roy."
"Max."
"Well, Max, I have a decision to make. I'm sure you know what it is. But I'd like to hear from you first before I make it."
I gave him a steady look. I could just bolt, push him aside and get on with what I had to do. Besides, enough good people had already been drawn into and destroyed by the chaos that surrounded my life; no need to drag another innocent along with me. But I knew I couldn't, knew that I owed this man my life, and that meant something, still meant something, even in this world.
"I guess...I guess I need to give confession, Father."
I feel Holy claustrophobic in the small booth. It's dark, the only illumination coming from the booth aside me, barred in a fine mesh. Father Roy is there, waiting, and I try to find the words. What pours out of me is my long tale of tragedy and revenge, hatred and fear, blood and bullets. It seems an impossible story as I tell it, a grim faerie tale whose end hasn't been written, but almost certainly won't finish with anyone living, Happily Ever After or otherwise.
And then it's done, told as far as I've taken it. I'm answered with silence, and in the small box I'm hoping, praying even, that I'll find some sort of absolution. The silence kills.
"That's...quite a story." Understatement of the year, Padre. "The Bible does say 'an eye for an eye,' but it also says 'revenge is mine, so sayeth the Lord.' It's a contradiction that has puzzled mankind for thousands of years. At what point is justice pass into vengence?" I wasn't sure if he was asking me a question, or putting me to the test. I decided not to find out.
"Father, all I know is that I have to see this to its end. I won't blame you if you call the police, and I won't put up a fight if they corner me. But so long as there are people I know I can stop in time to save others...I have to do it. Too many innocents have been lost in all of this, and if it's my soul I have to sacrifice to save one more, then it's worth it." He sighs heavy, a sigh of resignation.
"I cannot breach the Holy confessional. I will not turn you over to the authorities. I can only ask that you do so, of your own free will. Even if you reach the end of this Max, you'll never, ever be truly free of it. Think of the man you were. Does he like the man you've become?"
I stood up, flexed my arm a little, savored the ache. "No Father, the man I was doesn't like the man I've become." I open the door to step out but, before I do, I turn back slightly. "But he also doesn't stop me from doing what he knows has to be done. What does that say about who I was?"
I leave before he can give me an answer, but I don't think there's any to give. Maybe that's the answer.
The sun has already set by the time my feet are back on the street. I check my watch: 2 hours before the meet. I catch a taxi. And as I sit in the overused back seat of the urban chariot, approaching a fate I can't see, I watch the people of the city going about their lives at night. I used to be one of them, once. But now I was an unseen gladiator, representing the goodness the world seemed to have forgotten, achieving its goals by using evil's own tricks against it. I feel the weight of the guns in my pockets.
Time to lighten them up a little.
(whew! Part 12 on the way...)