Sparrows Song

Chapter 19

As soon as Blake opened the door, he knew something was wrong. He knew it by the stillness of the air, the thick silence, and the feeling settling deep into his gut. Quickly, he crossed to the kitchen and that was where he found her.

Jane was lying face down, motionless, a pool of dark crimson blood gathered beneath her. Her dark hair was tangled and wet with her blood.

Blake ran to her, but he already knew. There was just too much blood. Way too much blood.

His agony was so intense that it snapped him back into consciousness, but the lingering horror of his dream stayed with him. Blake turned over in bed, reaching for Jane, needing to know she was alright and feel her close to him. He listened to her rhythmic breathing as she slept beside him, and felt the warmth of her body as he slipped his arm around her.

He hadn't meant to wake her, but he felt her stir. She must have sensed from the way he was clutching her that something was wrong.

"Blake?" came her soft voice, slurred from sleep, "What's wrong? A dream?"

He didn't speak, only nuzzled his face into the back of her neck and held her closer, clinging to her desperately, unable to shake the grief of his dream. She was so precious to him. He couldn't let anything happen to her.

He was tired the next morning and all day at work from his unrestful night. The memory of the dream still haunted him, and he was anxiety-ridden. He just couldn't shake the persistent, nagging worry about Jane's safety.

He had to know once and for all; he had to find out if Andy was a legitimate threat or an imagined one. The anxiety was almost too much for him to bear and it was threatening to break him, putting his relationship with Jane in jeopardy. He could not fuck this up.

The gun shop's computer system was rudimentary and thus didn't have the right access points to allow him to hack it. It was the kind of small family-owned place that likely kept most records on paper. He had suspected this when he first started trying to hack them, but it was the only thing he could think to do to find out the information he needed besides physically breaking into the place, which would be a ridiculously stupid risk. He accepted now that he couldn't hack them, but he had to think of another way.

And then it dawned on him. Social engineering. It was a term hackers used for tricking people into disclosing a key piece of information that they needed for a hack. Blake didn't like to do it, mostly because it involved actual human interaction, something he avoided whenever possible. But now the idea seemed so simple he wasn't sure why he didn't think of it before.

It took him only a few minutes to set up a VoIP phone line he was certain couldn't be traced back to him, then he put in the call.

"Hi, this is Andy Sullivan. I bought a gun from you last week and I was just wondering if you had any more ammo in stock for it?"

The man on the other end had a low voice, with a deep rumbling laugh. "Oh, the Ruger pistol, right? Didn't use it all up already, did ya? Sure, I've got plenty, stop on by," he said jovially.

"Thanks, I'll do that. Just stocking up. Never can be too sure these days." Click.

As Blake ended the call, he felt as if a jolt of electricity passed through him. He was right, Andy had recently purchased a handgun. Something small, portable, and easily concealed.

He turned the information over in his head slowly, analyzing it. What he learned felt surreal, but he was certain now that the threat to Jane was a real one. For too long now he had done things her way, ignoring Andy when he really wanted to teach him a lesson. But this news escalated things, and he had to take action. He didn't really have a choice if Jane's life could be in danger.

Blake came up with a plan quickly, before he even realized what he was doing. What he was going to do. He couldn't afford to second guess himself now, to weigh the consequences of it; he just had to act.

He sent Jane a text to tell her he was going to work late that night. Then he brought up the tracking program, and saw that Andy was still at work. Perfect. He calculated the distance and the time it would take him to get to the townhouse. Plotted an entry and exit strategy. Then he grabbed his keys and left.

He found the extra key under the rock near the backdoor, just where he knew Jane had left it, and entered silently. Adrenaline surged through his veins, making him feel alive, and making the time pass excruciatingly slowly as he waited for his victim to arrive. But eventually he heard the sound of the truck parking out front, the door slamming, and Andy's keys turning the lock on the front door.

Blake ambushed him before he had any time to react. He wrestled him to the ground quickly, pinning him there as he wrapped the belt he had found in the closet around his neck. Andy had been caught completely unaware, and his eyes bulged in terror.

"Motherfucker!" he managed to rasp, struggling weakly.

Blake smiled at him devilishly. "You," he said coldly, smashing Andy's head into the floor once for emphasis, "are going to have a little accident. You see, you're just so broken up about your girlfriend leaving you that you just can't go on anymore. Don't worry, you'll leave a note."

Blake pulled the belt tighter, and watched as Andy struggled for breath but realized he was powerless to stop Blake. Andy stared into his eyes in utter horror, unable to fight him off anymore as he was on the verge of losing consciousness, and Blake knew it wouldn't be long now. Blake recognized this look, the precious seconds of time that passed in vivid detail before someone's life was extinguished permanently.

And then suddenly as he watched Andy's life slowly leaving him, it was like Blake awakened from a trance. He hated this man, really, really hated him, but suddenly and very surprisingly Blake realized he did not want to watch him die. That he did not want to sit there and idly watch another human being's life drain away, that he didn't want to be the cause of it. That for some reason, the thought of actually killing another person had suddenly become violently repulsive to him.

He slackened his grip immediately, breathing heavily, muscles shaking slightly from the adrenaline-rush of it all. For a moment neither of them did anything, while Andy drew in a glorious breath of air and they stared at each other in hatred.

"Just stay the fuck away from Jane. Never come near her again or you won't live to see another day," Blake threatened, slamming his head into the ground again, harder this time, to really get his point across.

Then he carefully got up, backed away slowly, and left.

Blake felt strangely liberated as he gingerly crossed the front lawn, as if he had finally freed himself from a dark cloud that had been hanging over his head for most of his life. It felt good, and the thought of being able to return home to Jane made him so happy that he smiled to himself.

The smile was still on his face as he heard the deafening crack, and felt the force of impact from behind him. But that was all that registered, and then, nothing.