Catharsis [Novel]

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

            The satisfying thwack as the rock connects with the man's head nearly makes me giggle with glee (The violence of what I've just done shouldn't bring me happiness, but it does.  I'm learning to accept it.), but I suppress the sound by biting my cheek.  The man stumbles backwards for three steps before slumping to the ground and dropping his gun harmlessly to the side.

            My first target had the bad luck of being on the secluded left side of the second house, which put him out of eyeshot and earshot of any other guards.  There are still six more armed men that I can see from my position (not counting any who may be on the far side of the houses and beyond my visual reach), and all of them are close enough to each other to make a stealth shot challenging.  I only got the one freebie.  From here on out, as soon as I drop one of these guys the rest will know something is up.  I better make my throws count.

            Even if they realize something is up, at least I still have the thick blanket of dark night hiding me and my actions.  That should help me stir up a bit more confusion.

            Rummaging in the mailbox, I pull out eight of the most ergonomically-shaped rocks I can find and line them up along the top brim of the chimney.  For things to play out in my favor, I'm going to need to get off as many shots as I can without stopping and digging around for my next rock will not facilitate that.

            With eight rocks "in the chamber" (to borrow some gunslinging slang for a moment), I heft two more round lumps so that I have ten consecutive shots before I'll need to reload.  Ten shots for six people should be pretty good odds, but right now I'll need as much in my favor as I can get.

            Examining the three pairs of guards, I try to determine which ones should drop next.  The two standing outside the first house's door chatting with their guns dangling at their sides?  The two patrolling the lawn between the houses?  Or should I start with the men outside the second house with their backs leaning nonchalantly against the wooden frame of the door?   Simple strategy makes my decision for me.  The two on the lawn are slightly behind the visual field of all the guys at the doors.  If I'm quick enough, I might be able to drop them both before they make a sound.  That would remove them from the game before the others even realize they're playing.

            Watching the two men chat (I know I should be bothered by the fact that I'm mere moments away from crushing their skulls with a heavy rock and possibly killing them, but the act is barely a blip on my moral radar.  The lack of this bothering me does bother me slightly, but not enough to deter my plans.  It's merely a narrative that plays in the background of my consciousness.) as they walk slowly across the yellow and faded grass, I do my best to estimate their movement speed and distance.

            "Stupid moving targets," I tell the two men in a quiet voice.  "I wish you'd just stand still for me."

            Then I realize I can make that happen myself.  Transferring my primary rock to my left hand, I bend down and pick up the first rock I find from the plastic mailbox.  In one motion I bring it up and lob it in a nice arc over the street and behind the men so that it bounces in the grass in the back yard.  Before the rock even lands, I shift my primary stone back to my right hand and wait for the two guys to turn.

            They both hear the soft thud and whirl around to face it which gives me a perfect angle on two unmoving, fuzzy craniums just waiting to be pummeled with a few of Mother Earth's ancient bones.  As soon as their spins are complete, I whip my right hand towards them and release.  The second the rock leaves my fingers, I'm reloading with the rock from my left hand and firing again.  The missiles fly through the air mere milliseconds apart and both strike their intended targets with gut-turning thuds.  The men drop to the ground without ever uttering a sound (Well, aside from the unintended sound of the brittle bone encasing their brains shattering, that is.  But I don't think we can give them credit for that.).

            It may not have been much sound, but apparently it was enough to attract the attention of one of the two guys standing next to the second house's doorway.  His head immediately whips around toward the side yard, and I hear him shout something that I'm guessing would be the two guys' names.  Their lack of an answer doesn't make him happy, and he says something to the other man standing next to the door before starting off towards the lawn and my most recent two victims.

            "Whoops," I say.  "I guess it's time to officially get this game started."

            I'd like to hit Startled Guy, but he's a moving target and thus slightly more of a challenge.  Stay Behind Guy is at attention next to the door and definitely on high alert now, but at least he's stationary.  The two fellows at the first house are watching the proceedings with apparent interest, but they haven't changed their stances yet.  I'm sure that'll change in just a moment.

            The darkness works to my advantage as I watch Startled Guy walk around the side of the house and beyond the view of the others.  Flashlights weren't part of the drug thug starter kit tonight, so his progress is slow as he unknowingly makes his way towards his fallen friends. 

            Grabbing the next two stones from the chimney, I wait until his pace slows a few feet from their prone forms (I'm guessing he's just realized there is something - or somebody - laying in the grass, and he's slowing down to figure out what it is.) and then I launch my first shot at him.  He isn't exactly an immobile figure, but he's moving slowly enough for me to pretend he is.

            With my rock already in the air and sailing towards him, he stops completely and turns toward his comrade back at the doorway.

            "Hey, I thi-" he gets out before the half pound of hurtling granite slams into his jaw and prevents him from saying anything else (probably for a long, long time). 

            "Biscuits!" I mutter at the inexact shot.  His sudden stop messed me up.  The rock didn't hit where I had intended - the back of his skull - and instead hit a much less lethal (and ultimately much more painful) location.

            Startled Guy (who has now really earned his nickname) immediately drops to the ground and begins frenetically gurgling and clutching at his face.  I have to write him off as a viable target with his arms waving around like that.  There's no way I can accurately hit anything vital on him without also risking hitting an elbow, a hand or an arm.

            As soon as Startled Guy had made his initial noise, Stay Behind Guy immediately raised his gun and pointed it in the direction that Startled Guy had wandered off in.  The sickeningly soupy and mostly unintelligible sounds that are now emanating from his last known location are not helping Stay Behind to relax (His frightened and stressed stance is visible even from up on the roof.).  Time to help the poor guy retire for the evening.

            Shifting my offhand rock to my right hand, I take aim and send another missile spinning out from the roof.

            I can see Stay Behind starting to say something when his head suddenly jerks backwards and slams into the house's heavy wooden door.  Blood blossoms on both the front and back of his head as he slowly slides sideways and down the door frame as his weight settles and gives into gravity's gentle pull.

            "Five down and two to go," I say to my remaining rocks.  "Let's make that seven and zero."