Chapter 57
The sounds of owls hooting pierce the stillness of the air.
Darkness looms suddenly, chasing away the last glimpses of the sun, and the walls of the building begin to look like living creatures to the man as they close in on him. He looks around - at the plastered walls where no paint graces them, and then at the floor which is littered with sand, broken blocks, and wood.
His eyes sweep across the bare room and beyond it, then cling to the windows and the broken shutters hanging from the rusty hinges as they rattle against the walls. His lips curl in disgust as he shakes his head. "This whole building is a picture of decadence." He laughs and shakes his head once more before settling for a shrug. "It's a price I have to pay for what I'm going to do. I can't fail now."
He stands from the stool he is perched on and stretches before walking to one of the windows. Even in the dying light, he can make out the tombstones rising from the earth a short distance away from the house. He has even memorized the names on each of them. He knows the people buried beneath them will never see the light of day again.
His lips curl in a smile, but they hold no warmth. The building is surrounded by dense foliage so thick, no one will suspect that anyone lives inside the abandoned building. The man smiles yet again, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. His smile breaks a little of the cold veneer surrounding him.
Violence thrums through his veins as the smile immediately bleeds from his face when he recalls all the things he still needs to do. He tenses and stands at alert when he hears a rustling noise. He strains his eyes, looking out at the thicket of trees beyond the window. A minute passes, three minutes, then ten, but no movement is seen.
"A reptile, probably." He says to himself as he moves away from the window and goes to sit back on the stool.
As soon as he closes his eyes, memories spill into his mind. "Come here, Basilio, look at the stars twinkling away in the sky." A woman's voice croons.
"That's Orion." He points to a lone star.
"Very good, my boy, very good."
The scuffing of shoes on the floor draws him back to the present. A shadow looms at the doorway like a scepter. "Well, don't just stand there," the man comments. "Step into the gloom."
At first, nothing happens, and then the shadow moves and steps inside the empty room revealing a woman.
The man grunts. "Took you long enough."
A sigh escapes the woman's lips. "I had to wait for the cover of darkness before I could leave."
"Did you bring what I asked you to?" The man's face is cloaked in darkness, so the woman is not able to see his face.
"First of all, tell me why you invited me here," She looks around her surrounding. "to this dump."
A deep rumble of laughter escapes the man. "A stranger calls you out of the blues and tells you to bring certain things to an abandoned building - sorry - dump, yet you still go, because-?"
She shrugs. "I came because I was curious, and -"
"In love." The man chuckles. "It's really true that hell hath no fury than a woman scorned."
The woman bristles. "I don't know what you're talking about, neither am I here for-"
The man suddenly stands. "Don't play stupid with me, because even though you may look it, you're far from it, neither should you play coy, either, it doesn't suit you." He moves close to the woman. "You're here because you want Ash Thunder for yourself."
The woman says nothing.
"What do you have for me?" He opens his palm and the woman puts something on it. He doesn't bother looking at the thick envelope in his palm, instead, he goes to a corner of the room and puts it inside a bag before going back to stand in front of the window. "Now. . . tell me, word for word, what is inside the envelope you just gave me."
The woman releases an impatient sound from her lips. "Why don't you just read -"
"I prefer to hear it straight from the horse's mouth. Any more words from those pretty lips and I just might kill you now."
A tense silence ensues, and the woman clears her throat and begins to speak. "He is thirty-two years of age and has built an empire with the help of six of his henchmen. He has restaurants all over the United States where he funnels his drug money, but where he really makes the cake is from his mines. He's got a live-in girlfriend by name -"
"I see why he likes her. She's a looker, that one, she's got a body meant just for-"
"Spare me your disgusting thoughts."
The man chuckles. "Let me guess - you're jealous?"
"I don't know what you're talking ab-"
"I know you look stupid, but you're also a coward, and that somehow doesn't sit well with me." The man turns around to look at her. "Why do you think I'm here, doing what I'm doing? You say you want revenge? Ha!" He waves his hands in the air. "A coward can't be vengeful, a coward hides behind a mask, and-"
"Exactly like you're doing?" The woman says moving closer to him. "You're the one hiding in this dump, waiting for the chance to-"
With the stealth of a panther, the man is before the woman, holding her by the throat. "I warned you about that mouth of yours. I warned you about threading on thin ice, I told you I could kill you, but you didn't heed my warning."
One of the woman's hands lifts and settles upon the man's hand as she tries, in vain, to claw his hand away from her neck. His hand presses even harder against her windpipe and spots dance in front of her. She knows with certainty, she's going to die, and at the hands of this violent stranger. As the thought is projected, the tightness around her throat reduces and she sucks in large gulps of air.
She feels, rather than sees the man step back from her. "That was just a foreshadowing of what will happen to you if you keep goading me."
"I . . . I'm sorry. It w-" She coughs violently and breathes in deeply before she continues somewhat shakily. "It won't . . . happen again."
The man seems satisfied as he once more goes to stand in front of the window. "Speak!"
The woman speaks hesitantly at first, her voice raspy, but after more bouts of coughing, her voice becomes steadier and she tells the man what he wants to hear.
When she finishes, he nods. "Wait for my next call, now get lost."
The sound of her heels clicking against the floor recedes, but still the man doesn't turn around. He stands so still, it seems he's not even breathing. An owl hoots and words spill from his lips. "One down, many more to go."