It’s been three months since the job Zoey and I went on, and I can honestly say she was getting better and better every job. Dex had designated me as her trainer, and with my help, she was one of the best assassins we had ever had. She was better at handling a bow than a pistol, which was great news for us – we needed an archer.
I was sitting in the front room, reading through the schedule. No jobs were on today. I sighed, and threw the clipboard lightly onto the table. I hated days like these – there was nothing to do, and everyone was caught up in doing something, usually spending time with friends who weren’t assassins. But I didn’t have any other friends. So I was left alone.
I drummed my fingers against the armrest of the chair I was sitting in, and then saw a stack of papers lying on the mantelpiece. I instantly knew what they were. I groaned, and heaved myself out of my seat to pick up the wad of paper. I flicked through it quickly; bills, bills, Virgin Media, old job files. I sighed and pulled the organiser from the bookcase. Since there was nothing to do, I may as well do something productive. I sorted the bills into paid and unpaid, leaving the unpaid ones out, and locked the rest of the letters in the organiser, apart from the old job files. I picked them up, surveyed them, and then sat back down in the armchair.
The one on top of the pile was a job from two weeks ago – Victoria Middlestone, killed for ‘murdering’ Bethany Lock’s pet snake. I chuckled – how petty, killing someone over an animal. I put it to the back of the pile, and read the next one - Billy Green, killed for putting Troy Wilson’s daughter in a coma due to a drink-driving accident last month. I sighed. This was the second job me and Zoey went on. I picked up another one – Harry McGregor, killed for not paying his drugs debt to Amelia Hammond two months back. I sighed again, placed the old job files in the organiser, and put it back in its place on the bookshelf.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember all the jobs I’ve ever done. It occurred to me I could only remember 7 or 8. I opened my eyes again, blinking rapidly. God, I really am a monster, I thought to myself. I can’t even remember all the people I’ve killed. I really did hate this job sometimes. But then, I thought about all the friends I made (I say all – I mean the 4 or 5 I’ve been forced to live with) and how they had become… my family. I smiled, and then mentally slapped myself. Stop being such a girl! I thought.
I walked into the kitchen, nodding to Noah as I grabbed my mug from the mug tree. I filled up the kettle and switched it on. I turned and watched Noah as he attempted to throw his apple core in the bin, failing every time. I chuckled.
“Hey, Chuckle Boy. You try to get it in that bloody bin.” He spat, handing me the core. I took it from his grasp, glanced at it, then threw it at the open bin, watching it sink right in. I turned to Noah, smiled, then made my cup of tea. I walked out of the room, still grinning at the positive outcome of the little… ‘Competition’. I sat down and flicked the TV on, waiting for everyone to get back home.
YOU ARE READING
When Memory Dies
Mystery / Thriller"They'd turned me into an assassin." aren't the words Xavier Bailey expected to tell anyone. But now he has to tell his story, all because of one job gone wrong.
