Pink Walls

Day Two [Part II]

"I hope you know what you're doing, Daniel. I also hope you're still alive."

It took me a while to realize that it was snowing again, but I was sure that I was one of the first people to. I had to look past the blinding gleam of the moon to stare at the beginnings of what could be a storm by the time the sun was done rising.

It worked in my favor—having a snowy day. Visible footprints, fewer bystanders and the paralyzing cold.

Frozen crystals fluttered all around me, following the gust that tugged at the flaps of my coat, before melting into my hair and sleeves.

I used my hands to shield my face and shifted my gaze back to Danny's house, watching lazy curls of smoke rise out of the windows to form a plume of smoke above the smouldering building.

The darkened, white paint furled and chipped off slowly—flames burning an angry red were visible through the broken glass of the door, eating up everything in sight to sustain itself and grow.

It was a beautiful and terrifying thing to watch, knowing that I had caused the carnage. There was just something enthralling about an unbridled blaze in the thick of the night—and winter.

It was one of those scenes I wished I could photograph, a scene I would never be able to recreate. I fought the urge to stare forever—I couldn't even if I wanted to. The snow might not have been able to put out the fire but that didn't mean it could go on for an eternity.

In front of the burning house, I watched the hitman get wheeled into an ambulance. He had been rescued by the throng of firefighters rushing in and out of the front door and had somehow managed to survive being stabbed, shot at and trapped in an alcohol-fueled blaze.

I wondered if the man would die on the way to the hospital. I wondered if the doctors would be able to save him. That was the only reason I hadn't driven away yet, to see if he was still alive and prepare myself for the consequences that would follow.

A flurry of chilled wind had me wishing that I had a scarf, but I didn't hide from it. The cold was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment.

My fingers curled around Daniel's file, and I sighed, looking at the moon as it loomed over me as it often did when I had troubling thoughts.

Nothing good ever happened when it was so big and round—not to me anyway.

I returned my gaze to the ambulance as it drove away, lights flashing and sirens blaring. This time I avoided staring at the perambulating officers, or the fire itself. It wasn't even an hour past midnight yet and I had already destroyed private property.

Ron was going to have my head when she got the news—that was if she didn't already want my head for losing Daniel and revealing myself to the enemy prematurely.

I didn't know who the hitman worked for but he had seen my face and could identify me if it was necessary. Each mission I took gave me more loose ends that required cauterization before I could be confident that no one would try to shoot at me when I was out on a stroll.

Pushing my way through to the crowd of neighbors that had joined me to watch the infernal chaos, I made my way through to Alex's car.

I fished the keys out from my pocket and my fingers brushed my knives as I did. I let out a breath of relief and rested my head on the steering wheel before starting the engine and shutting the door.

I only put my seatbelt on when I was streets away and could no longer see clouds of smoke through the rear view mirror.

With one hand drumming a random rhythm on my thigh, I spared a glance at the file on the passenger seat as I pulled away from the Mid District.