Capítulo 13: Chapter 3.2
My name was Timothy Terrace, son to Jonathan Terrace. We lived on a farm for seven years until it was destroyed by the drought, now we're emigrating further in the country with our one remaining horse, so my father could sell it to get life altering treatment for his ears. This treatment funded by Jason Smart would proceed after the opening ceremony of the new Otolaryngology unit at central hospital. At this event, I will kill a man.
As an innocent child, I will sneak in with the children from the hospital and a slip an odourless, tasteless, poison in his champagne glass. When he drinks it, he will feel nothing, things will go on as normal. Then, after five minutes, he will gasp for breath but no matter how much oxygen he inhales, its too late. Then he will pass out, followed by seizures as his skin turns dark and his brain slowly dies and his heart trails to a stop.
I accepted these facts as if my life depended on it- because it did. Rickon made sure I knew the gory details as we travelled to the Reaven capital, while Quin and Jay squatted in the small compartment hidden in our trailer as our single horse shitted on the floor above their heads.
We were stopped at the border, and although my heart could have beat out of my chest I managed to repeat the script I was given with reasonable confidence. We were called over by two men either side of the road carrying a red flag in each hand. Rickon pulled over to the side of the road and I wound down my window. The flag man, who was approaching Rickon's side, veered off when he saw that my window was wound down and peered over my head at Rickon.
"Hello there, sir." He called over me, but like a deaf man, Rickon gave no indication that he heard.
"Hello. Pupa is deaf, so I do the talking for him." I exclaim, bringing his attention down to me.
His eyes widen in surprise, before shifting uncomfortably between us, "ah, I see. Can I see your travel papers?" he asked, not sure who to address, but I simply hand over the papers I was given and Rickon, like a practiced actor, didn't give anything away. He stared ahead and let me deal with the border control. If I didn't know that he had his hand resting on his gun under his jacket, I would have wondered where this trust came from. But if I said anything, first they would be shot, and then I would, and they would drive through border control regardless.
"And where are you two off to?" he asked, studying the papers.
"We're going to the capital to get pupa's ears fixed."
"And what's in the trailer?"
"Our horse."
"Okay… can I have a look?" he asked suspiciously.
"Yeah, but she's a bit stinky, we haven't cleaned her out since we left." That was intentional, Rickon knew that a border control officer wouldn't get paid enough to rummage though horse shit to check if the trailer was clear. And it seemed he was right, as I opened the trailer a wall of warm manure odour hit us in the face, and the officer recoiled back with a disgusted expression. I tried my hardest to keep my face neutral as if I was used to the smell, but it took all my will power not to gag along with the officer.
I got the smallest bit of satisfaction to know that Quin and Jay were suffering hours on end with little bits of shit falling through the cracks in the floorboards, littering the clothes and hair.
Our horse, a lovely brown stallion, sniffed the fresh air, shifting towards us, "Okay that's fine!" the officer exclaimed, and I gently swung the door shut, praying that he wouldn't rear up. "You're free to go."
I climbed back into the truck, and we wordlessly drove through the border, back into Reaven, my home country. But I didn't recognise the trees, the roads, the buildings. Even though I've lived there my entire life, this country was foreign to me. Four weeks ago, the orphanage and its tiny plot of land around it, was my entire world. How tragic it was that I knew more about the enemy country than I did my own.
The capital was very different from Garlantia, it was calm and green and most of the cars were on the road, not in the sky. The towering buildings were made of brick and they stopped far below the clouds. Trees were planted either side of the road at regular intervals, and there were random bits of grass area where people lounged, or children played. While Garlantia could be described as magnificent and leering, Reaven was pretty and a little underwhelming, but everyone seemed to be comfortable. Here, the conflict couldn't touch them… Or so they thought. I hated that I would be part of destroying this peace.
We sold our horse on the edge of town to wealthy a riding school for rich kids, then we went the long way round to the hospital, dropping Jay and Quin off a few streets away, in a black of a dark alley where they climbed the fire escape of an abandoned building, and squatted there the duration of our time in the city, scopes trailing the hospital, waiting for me to mess up so they can take their shot.
We arrived the night before the ceremony, and registered with the hospital using fake papers, then waited in a nearby hostel. The entire time we kept up appearances, with Rickon remaining silent until we were sure we were alone. Doing all the talking was exhausting, I swear, I'd never talked that much in my life. But despite that, there was a ball of nervous energy waiting to explode from my body and I couldn't keep still. When I wasn't nervously pacing the room, I was sitting at the desk, bobbing my legs or tapping my hands.
"I swear if you don't cut that out I'm going to kill you." Rickon growls, lying flat on the bed with his eyes closed. "just go to sleep." He ordered.
I laid fully clothed onto of the sheets, but my mind wouldn't slow down. Tomorrow I will kill a man. Again.
But somehow the exhaustion pulled me into a restless sleep, filled with nightmares and dread mixing together in an awful concoction, resting just under the surface. Then, just a few hours later I was shaken awake and the nightmares came true. With a dull thudding pain clouding my mind, I rolled out of bed on command and slipped my feet in shoes, before being dragged out of our room by the elbow when Rickon decided I was being too slow.
The event was going to take place later that day, but we had to register with the hospital like the real Johnathan Terrace would have. We waited for hours in the stifling hot waiting room, before an agonisingly long interview, with difficult questions that took all my wit to keep up with the lies. At the end of it all I was exhausted before the difficult part even started. I stumbled out after him, as he stormed through a crowd of people gathering at the entrance for no apparent reason. It seemed that the ordeal had got to him as well.
We sat silently in the courtyard with people buzzing around us, getting ready for the ceremony. I'm sure Rickon had a reason for it, surveying the area, looking for weak points or something like that, but the rationality was lost on me. To me, we were basking in the sun, warm afternoon air blowing through the narrow path between the buildings. It was peaceful, but I was soon reminded of why we were there. I couldn't let myself forget that we were there to ruin this beautiful peaceful day. Today, I am assigned the role as an assassin. To kill a man who has done no wrong to me, who funded hospital research and was here today to celebrate that. As for the rationale of why this man was chosen, I was never told.
Gold and red bunting lined the front of the building, and a sleekly wooden podium was constructed in front of the entrance. Half an hour until the scheduled time, our ID's and admittance to the hospital were checked by security in brisk black suits and we were directed inside the hospital. Inside, there was no gentle warm breeze, it was hot and stuffy and filled with far too many people, but we became lost within the chaotic bundle of heat, sweat and complaining children. When the half an hour was up, we were herded out into the left segment of the court yard, which was transformed into a ceremony area. There was a path running down the centre, where a rich red carpet rested like a dividing line between the sick and the well.
A buzzing energy ran through the crowd either side, it twisted my stomach in knots to know that I was going to turn their joy into terror. A man stood up at the podium and began to speak- what he said I didn't know; the words were drowned out by the thumping of my heart. I hesitated, lingering next to Rickon for a moment too long so that he gave me a spiteful gab in my shoulder. Then, as if controlled by an outside force I slowly strode forwards, weaving through the crowd as tenderly as I could. The people were focused on Jason Smart, they didn't notice a small child squeezing the way to the front.
At the front of the crowd was a group of children, most of which I presume were deaf, but regardless, their entire attention was filled with this male speaker, every shift of his body, every micro expression he may have shown, every shape his lips made was a source of vital information for someone whose world that contains no sound. I slipped in the front, and slowly shifted so that I was one of the closest to the podium- but not the first.
My sweaty palms slipped over the small glass vile in my pocket. We'd practiced slight of hand over and over and this little vile was now so familiar that I'd know it in my sleep. It had a tapered top with a tiny opening so there was no clumsy movement of removing a lid that might be spotted by security. It would release just enough poison to kill him, but not enough to still be present when they tested for poison later on. It was a perfect poison like that. Invisible in every way and just as deadly.
The audience applauded, and the closest security man began organising the children to go up and meet Jason Smart, I was bustled around a bit and ended up sixth in line. That was good, the first few children would be remembered, their photograph may even be taken, but the last would also be just as memorable. The middle was the best place I could be, with the children either side of me protecting my identity.
Jason Smart was given a glass of champagne and he toasted to the hospital which was pursued by another round of applause. Then it was time. The first child trailed up the stairs and Jason Smart bent down to his level to shake his hand, the two smiled at each other and turned to face to audience which clapped, and photographs were taken. By the fourth child people were getting bored, their attention wondered, and Jason Smart no longer bent down to shake their hands. This was a problem; the glass was too high for me to slip it in unnoticed without him bending. I fumbled the vile nervously. I thought of abandoning the task- I didn't want to kill him anyway- but I had no doubt Rickon's threat was real. One shot for Jason Smart and one for me.
No, I had to do this. I steadied my mind and tried to think of a way out of it. It was now my turn to go up there, if I hesitated too long someone might guess that something was wrong. I put one step in front of the other, my legs shook, but I used my nervousness to my advantage. There were three steps up to the podium, I stumbled up them nervously vile at the ready, concealed in the palm of my right hand, on the last step I tripped. Relying on Jason Smart's good will or desire to maintain appearance, he grasped forward, glass of champagne and all, to catch me before I fell. The champagne was slurred but this gave me enough cover to slip in the poison.
"Easy there!" he chuckled. I really wish he hadn't. This close to him I could see his face clearly. He was younger than I first thought, with mousy hair combed neatly back, he was clean shaven with smooth skin covering his rounded face almost like a child. His eyes were clear and good, not at all like the snake-like eyes of the men in Dark Moon Squad. The smile was genuine. It sent shivers down my spine, almost more terrifying than the evil grin Rickon often wore.
I shook his hand numbly and walked off the other end of the stage. It was done. I fought to control the rising panic, I was meant to re-join Rickon once it was done, but I just couldn't move. I gasped a nearby wall to keep me upright, suddenly all the air was gone and no matter how much I tried to breathe, nothing could quench my thirst for oxygen. My vision faded out, and the things that were going on around me became irrelevant. Things were spiralling out of control, I knew that soon I would raise attention to myself but that only escalated my panic. What have I done? I've killed someone. I killed someone again. Why do I have to do this? Why cant I-?
I'm enveloped in a shadow, one that is dark and comforting. It washes away the panic, and I look out to the crowd, who seem dark and distant, as if I'm looking through a tinted window or a veil. The shadow doesn't feel like anything but at the same time it feels soft and homely. I look up and above me, where the shadow is thickest, a shape of a head is formed, and either side of me a shape of long thick arms. What is this? I wonder, but not in panic. Its like a large shadow is embracing me softly, as if to comfort me. I wonder if it's the same thing I saw in the woods the other day.
"Who are you?" I ask it again. But it disappears, evaporating into the air like smoke.
Outside the veil, I hear a commotion, people are yelling and rushing towards the stage. Before I could get in view, a shot rang out across the court yard and the crowd bursts into an explosion of confusion. Something must have gone wrong, why did Jay shoot? I killed him didn't I? The thin barriers that were keeping people separate were trampled by a stampede of scared and confused people. Security lost command and the confusion took on a life of its own. People were running in every direction, children were crying, some ran off while others stood amongst the panic dumbfounded of what was happening, where to go and how to feel.
I wondered if the confusion was enough for me to get away, but before I could fully form the idea, my shoulder is grabbed from behind and I'm pulled along with the crowd. Rickon, is steering us away from the podium within the current of the crowd. I managed to glance back and catch a glance of the stage. There were a crowd of security hustling over two men lying on the floor, I could see their feet sticking out of the cluster of security and medics. Through the gaps of the bustling horde, I could see Jason Smart with an ugly red mark in the middle of his forehead, and next to him his closest security guard, pink faced and very much dead with a shattered champagne glass next to his hand.
I killed the wrong person. I think numbly. The champagne was meant for Jason Smart, why would his security guard drink it? I was yanked again, and I was forced to leave the thought behind, as I was wrenched forwards further into the stream of people fleeing in the panic and out the other end. We wove through streets and before I knew it, we were blocks away, where the sounds of attack were distant murmurs.
Rickon stole a nearby car, and old one with its red paint rusted off at the wheels and a broken wing mirror. I was shoved into the passenger seat next to Rickon, and suddenly, we on our way out of the city. Jay and Quin sat in the back, their rifles packed neatly into shoulder bags slung at their feet. I don't remember when we picked them up, but I suddenly became aware of their light chatter coming through to the front of the car. I looked around in confusion, outside the windows there were farming fields with corn and yellow flowers either side of the long barren road we drove along. We'd travelled far outside of the city without me noticing, as if the whole ordeal outside the hospital never happened. The men had already forgotten it.
Status de energia semanal
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