It's Over..."He's Dead Jim"

Calvin's dead. He snagged me and brought me to one of Med's old safehouses right after I left the airport. I didn't even have a chance to react.

He removed the hood after putting me in a chair. There was a table in front of me and he was sitting on the other side. "The day of reckoning is here." I didn't respond, just stared at him.

He broke into his speech about teaming up again. About wanting to find his sister. He even said something about seeing me as a brother. I didn't even acknowledge any of what he was saying.

"You know what, Carter, let's play a little game." He set a bottle of whiskey and my revolver on the table between us. He followed it with two glasses and filled them. "Six cylinders. All filled. Five with casings, one with your magic bullet that can kill you and might kill me. The game is simple, take a drink, pull the trigger. No cheating."

"I don't drink." - Me

"Oh, you don't? You afraid it'll kill you?" He laughed at his own joke. "You might as well enjoy what may be your last moments on this planet." He saw that I wasn't convinced. "Here, I'll go first."

He took a drink, put the revolver to his head, and pulled the trigger.

Click. 

He put the revolver next to my hands and pushed over a drink.

I stared at him for a while. "Either you play along, or I'll take it back and pull the trigger until it goes bang." He shrugged. "Your choice." I reached for the gun. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

I drank the whiskey then picked up the revolver. I put it to my head. Time seemed to slow at that moment. I thought of everything that brought me to this moment. I thought of everyone who I knew. Everyone from my family and S to Med and all of you.

Click.

I threw the gun down. Cal laughed. "See? Not so hard. It's easy to play along. You know, that's what She liked about you, Carter. She was always talking about how useful you were, how accommodating." He took another drink and trigger pull.  

Click. 

Still nothing.

"You know what else, Carter. She was scared of you. And with that kind of fear, if we had teamed up like I offered, we could've gone far."

I didn't answer, just took my drink and picked up the revolver.

Click.

Cal smiled. We both knew: only two left. "And then there's Sam. I never understood that, Carter. What did she ever..." He took another drink and pulled the trigger.  

Bang. 

His body fell to the floor. I froze. I must have sat there for hours, he didn't move.

I hesitantly got up and checked, no pulse. Which, to be fair, was expected. It's how it tends to work for me. The thing that was different was that the hole was still there. I remember him healing extremely fast. It had been a few hours, so if he wasn't up yet, he wouldn't be getting up. Ever.

I sat back down and finished my glass. Then I contacted Med. She seemed pretty surprised, but I needed to get to somewhere safer.

That was last night. Med kinda chewed me out over it. It wasn't terrible, it was more worried than anything else. My head's still pounding. At least Med was kind enough to hold out on the serious talking-to until after I had some sleep. There was also some water.

So, lessons learned:
  • Dark alleyways are not your friends.
  • Cal is dead.
  • I no longer have an Archangel bullet in my possession. (See point #2)
  • We all have expiration dates, some are sooner than others.
  • Hangovers suck.
  • And, lastly, I think I know why I had my policy of "I don't drink" (See the previous point)
Soon, I'll gather my stuff and head back to the US.  Once there I'll continue my search for Sam.  The chances of finding her or any of the others are so slim that I can't even describe them to you. (Or maybe I still can't think straight with this headache.) I've got the spare time, though, that much is certain.

Comments

  1. If you're looking for a needle in a haystack, try setting the haystack on fire. I don't know how that metaphor extends to the subject at hand, but damn, doesn't it sound fun?

    Handy tip, when he passed you the gun, you do realize you could have just shot him six times in the chest? Would have gotten the job done faster and with less fuss. Plus you'd have had more whiskey left for yourself.

    Just friendly advice :)
    ~The Kor

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I don't think fire will help me find them, but thanks.

      And no, I wouldn't have done that. Firstly, I did not want to kill him. He died by his own hand. Secondly, I don't drink.

      Delete
    2. Meh, I've never drank either, but I hear good things.

      ~The Kor

      Delete
    3. This hangover says otherwise.

      Delete
  2. AMERICA? That's where I live! We should totally hang out! I know that Picasso was saying that you and she don't really get along, but I've been around her long enough to know when she's just messing.

    It'll be so much fun!

    You could do with some fun! I have this sneaking suspicion that you haven't been smiling nearly as much as you should recently.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It'll be nice to be home again. This time for more than a few days.

      I've never met Picasso, so I don't know how we don't exactly "get along". It's probably my reputation.

      Delete
    2. I'm gonna say you have a reputation for being awesome! And word on the street says you're a sweetheart too :)

      Delete
    3. Reputation for being awesome? I've killed 14 people since this all started.

      And I have no clue where you got that from.

      Delete

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