(Fiction) December 19th 2020
She’s been in there for two days now, mask on to answer the door and working from home. Won’t even go out to get groceries: has them delivered to her doorstep.
I’ve been watching since the 14th. Well, longer actually, but full stalk the last five. When she wrote that article in The Nation, I was done waffling. She became my target. One of many, but the closest one to me.
Here comes her daily delivery of that crap she calls food. Never have understood how people think they can subsist on beansprouts. Good to build up vitamin C in winter time, but thats about the only advantage.
“Hey, man. Do you have the time?” I say as I approach the delivery boy near the corner. I made sure that there wasn’t a spot in front of the house so he had to park out of sight. A big white work van and some traffic cones do wonders and the sheep don’t seem to question such things, even though there are no markings on it.
“Yeah, hold on,,,,” he says as he shifts his load around to pull out his phone. That’s when I slip the ether soaked rag in his face and slid around behind him to hold him, and drag him into the alley. He’s gonna have a hell of a headache since the ether I’m using was starting fluid in a can 5 minutes ago. Gotta move quick. Shirt and jacket off. Zip-ties to wrist and ankles. Slap duct tape over his mouth. Since its cold, I toss an old ratty comforter I found in the trash over him. Slip on his shirt and jacket grab his bags of her delivery and head to her house.
“He was loaded up and asked me to help out. We’re swamped right now with the curfews and lockdowns. ” I say from behind my mask covered face. She swings the door a little wider so she can get the bags from me. I use the slip to barge the door out of her hands as I shove the bags into them. Her reflexes kick in, grabbing the bags, as I shove her further inside and slap that ether covered rag into her mouth as she starts to scream. I quickly, but gently close the door behind me. I’m in overdrive, moving faster than she can think and my moves are practiced; hers are pure reaction.
“I’m not going to make a big production of this.” I say to her as I knock the bags out of her hands and cover her mouth to keep her from spitting the rag out. I can see the ether is kicking in a little but most of it has evaporated. Likely she’ll feel fuzzy-headed, but it won’t knock her out. Good. I want her to know whats happening. “Since you and yours have decided that laws mean nothing, me and Mine find your terms acceptable. I am now your jury, judge and executioner.” Her eyes go wide and she starts to struggle. I grab her by the back of the neck, pinching the tendons there, HARD. I can hear her squeak through the rag. Walking her through her kitchen, facing that very same alley where poor Justin is sleeping the sleep of the innocent, I grab up the longest knife from her knife block. Her eyes go even wider seeing this.
I slam her back against the door to her pantry, slamming that knife through her throat, spine, and into the wood door. Immediately she starts gurgling but can’t talk as that knife is right through her larnyx. I pull the rag out of her mouth.
“Welcome to the world you created by spreading lies as truth. Sentencing complete. ” I say as I press a small .22 cal pistol in the center of her forehead and pull the trigger. The sound is muffled as the expanding gases follow the bullet into her skull. I hear her sinuses ‘pop’ from the overpressure and blood starts flowing from her nose and ears. Her body twitches but doesn’t fall, suspended by that knife stuck through her throat into the door.
I drop Justins shirt and jacket to the floor at the foyer, lock the door and exit. I have no idea whose van I stole yesterday and leave it where it is in front of the girls place. One more misdirection in whatever investigation follows when they find her. I swing around the other direction to where my car is, 3 blocks away. Just another nobody headed home before the curfew starts.