I swing through Tempe to case Mark's house. Tonight, I plan to break in and shoot him in his sleep. Simple. The neighbors are best not to investigate noises until morning. I'm not in the mood to give anyone a head start.
When I reach Mark's place, my enthusiasm sinks. He lives in a condo, on the fourth floor. It's upscale, with rounded balconies and glass walls.
I head for home. Silvia sits quietly in the passenger seat, chain-smoking half a cigarette after another.
While she's scheming how to Cain her Abel, I try to figure out how to get into that condo. The windows are likely damn near shatterproof, and bashing them in would be too loud anyway.
So I'm left with outwitting Mark. I don't want to put a significant amount of thought into this—I just want the guy dead before the hum evolves—but I can't risk showing up on camera again. I've gotten lazy over the years. All I worry about anymore is getting rid of the hum. Fear, worry, and guilt all come in second.
My first kill wasn't like that, though.
I had been under Karl's command for a year, fulfilling petty requests. He summoned me one afternoon, and I expected to have to lift from a store again. Instead, the envelope had contained the profile of a man he wanted dead.
The man had been the owner of commercial real estate. Karl had wanted several of the man's properties, but the man wouldn't sell. Since the properties were still under mortgage, Karl decided to put an end to his existence and then pick up the buildings at auction.
He isn't one for noble causes.
But something had glimmered on Karl's face when he made his wish. A look I have tried to forget, but without much luck.
As soon as he had spoken, I knew all the prior requests—the ones that I had decided I could live with—had been tests. Nothing more. He had been building his confidence in me before ordering the crux of the operation: kidnappings and murders.
I didn't want to kill the man. In fact, I told Karl straight up I wouldn't.
Karl shrugged. I thought I got away easy.
I was wrong.
I tried to deny the truth, that the hum was growing because I wasn't obeying. It made me angry, realizing that I had to do what I was ordered. And I was scared that the situation was completely out of my control.
Somewhere near the twenty-fourth hour, nearly blinded by a migraine unlike any other, I caved.
I found the man.
And I killed him.
His body crumpled to the floor, and the pain vanished.
I told myself I would resist next time, but the only thing that changed was how much easier it became with each wish. Death was just an arrangement between me and my victim, one they didn't know about and had no say in.
I didn't have a say either.
So I hunted and killed. I became secure in my false identities, assured that if I was tracked down for a crime, Karl would just move me. Not like I need to live nearby. All he has to do is summon me, and I will come crawling out of my spider hole.
But now I have to be careful.
Something has changed. He isn't telling me the truth, but I have no reason to try to stop him anymore.
So I'll figure out a way to take down Mark. I could lure him out somewhere, but that is time consuming and requires energy I just don't have. I need to get inside his condo. That's the only reasonable solution. And I know only one way that isn't going to get the cops called before I finish the job, won't land me on camera, and won't take months of bro-bonding.
I know exactly how I'm going to kill Mark.
It's going to be just like my first time.
***
Back at my house, Silvia amuses herself on my computer. Not like I have to worry about Syd showing up anymore.
I roam between the bedroom, the closet, and the living room, but I'm not really doing anything.
By the time the sun sets, I'm already feeling worn out. Since I won't be able to sleep, I put coffee to brew before heading into the shower. The hot water does nothing for my state of mind. Doesn't invigorate me, and doesn't relax me. I'm not sure anything can right now.
When I step out of the bathroom, I find Silvia asleep in my bed. Under the covers.
As much as I would like to shove her to the floor, I would rather not wake the beast.
Instead, I check my guns, load up my jacket, and leave the house. I blast the car radio, but more from habit than anything else.
Maybe after the hum is gone, I'll take a benzo and sleep for a day. Otherwise, I will just sit around contemplating what to say to Syd and eventually acting on it.
She doesn't want to hear from me.
I refocus my thoughts on the kill. I will ring the doorbell. He will answer the door. I will shove it open and pop a bullet into his brain. He will die.
He only has two parts. I'm confident he will see them through to the end. Literally.