Thirty-two

by Tressa LeBrocq

Nikki kept her distance. Watching. Waiting. Studying him like a pupil studiously learns a new subject.  

In his beat-up denim jacket, he didn’t exactly strike her as the “evil” type. But, then again, most of them didn’t. Even the dirty politicians and perverted religious leaders. But this man was not like them at all. He was normal. An average Joe. The type of normal that would be good at wasting time, shopping on-line, and buying lottery tickets. That kind of normal. He reached his hand into the snack trailer and grabbed two plastic bags of colored confection. Pink sugar that had been spun into a dreamy cloud of deliciousness, and the two young boys, no taller than his hip, appeared quite pleased with his gifts.  

He was a father.  

This same, painfully average man, after treating the children, pulled the woman into his arms. A petite woman with big eyes that lit up at his touch. She clearly did not see him the same way that Nikki did. To her, this man was more than average. He lightly pecked the top of her head while Nikki continued to be mesmerized by the scene. Touched by the purity of it. The naturalness. They hugged and smiled to the point that it actually tipped something inside of her. Like a tiny boat in a vast ocean, a wave of unexpected emotion slapped against her vessel.  

Actual, real feeling.  

What is this, Nikki wondered; her eyes locking on the oldest boy who’d begun tearing into the clear plastic bag of cotton candy, smiling innocently. He looked ten, maybe eleven years old. Right about the same age as… 

A different feeling. A confusing and quite unexpected feeling.  

This new emotion pulled at her belly, and filled her chest like a balloon. Nikki turned her head away. She had to. The man. The woman. The boy.  

Once upon a time, she’d had that, too. So long ago. It seemed like a different life. She could hardly remember.  

Stalled momentarily by the shock of sentiment, Nikki sucked the crisp, night air into her lungs. Her senses exploded as if suddenly realizing that she was surrounded by funnel cake and popcorn. Her puce-colored eyes flickered from side to side absorbing her reality. The blinking lights that seemed to dance just above her eyeline with the loud music pumping in from every direction. It all hit simultaneously.

Nikki glanced down at her hands…trembling ever so slightly.  

Bazaar, she thought, stoic as ever. She’d never been one for dramatics. Instead, she refocused her energy on the man and his family. After all, she was a professional with a job to do. Her work would never tolerate unexpected twinges of guilt or curious pangs of jealousy. Simple-minded weaknesses, she told herself.  

So, the man had a happy family? So what?  

She’d killed dozens just like him without a second thought. Thirty-two, in fact. Thirty-two targets eliminated, Nikki reminded herself, with what she hoped was still pride. 

Though, in that moment, she was not altogether sure. 

Nikki continued to watch as he and his family began to move through the crowd. And, with them, she went. Blending in. Remaining invisible. A skill she’d honed well in her ten-year career.

That and…patience. A virtue that confounded many in her line of work.  

The perfect opportunity will present itself, she thought, as a bench came into view.  

Two teenagers holding hands walked by and barely made eye contact with her, proving that she was, in fact, covert. They hardly noticed her. They certainly could not see her sins. No one could. Nor did they see her unhappiness. So different from their own.  

Nikki had not come to The Fun Zone to win a stuffed bear or bump around in a miniature electric car. She wasn’t on a date or there to find one.  

No, she was a professional with a job to do.  

Her target was standing in line now, holding hands with his two sons, ready to get into a decorative, swinging pirate ship. Every time the ship glided from one side to the other, the back draft blew across her face like an awakening wind. A warm, ebb and flow of commiseration.  

Nikki swallowed hard.  

Her actions had consequences. Repercussions. Not only for herself but for the man’s family. Of course, she’d never actually see them. Or even understand them. Funerals and sadness and all that…  

Another emotion.  

Grief. 

Again, she was pulled away from her work, this time by an ear-splitting screech from behind. Nikki turned to see a screaming toddler dangling from his mother’s stiffened arm. The racket should have been easily ignored. Her training had prepared her for scenarios such as this. Large crowds, loud noises, bright lights. None of it should’ve mattered. But Nikki felt on edge. As if hovering over a cliff that she didn’t even know existed. Every anxious inhale made her feel light headed. Dizzy even.

What is happening to me, she wondered, slowly lowering herself onto the bench. Such strange thoughts, she wondered, slowly massaging her chest. The ever-inflating balloon. She had not eaten the fried food or the silly meats on sticks. Who would think of something like that anyway, Nikki wondered. There was no sensible reason for a sudden attack of indigestion. Her nose wrinkled.  

What had this family man done that was so awful? Why would someone request he be murdered in public? And, even more baffling, why must it be done in front of his wife and children? The questions that she’d never bothered to ask before, annoyed her like buzzing gnats. She wanted to know. Not that someone like her was ever privy to that kind of information.  

Target’s name, picture, location. That was all she ever knew about any of them.  

Still, rubbing her thumb up and down her chest, Nikki decided it must be the amusement park that was troubling her. The endless parade of sweaty people and obnoxious noises. Everything looked and felt sticky. This has to be the single worst possible place to die, she admitted sadly to herself.

The man and his children boarded the pirate ship ride. 

Stop it, her back stiffened as that dreaded flush of emotion once again poked at her. It had been a long time since Nikki had felt human. Too many years of servitude combined with repeated appalling behavior had slowly stripped away at her humanity. With every job, another piece of her died.  

Thirty-two.

The number popped back into her head again, but this time, it definitely did not stir anything inside her resembling pride. Or fulfillment. It felt more like a sucker punch to the gut. Shame. She had quite the reputation in the business. But only in that moment did Nikki realize that she had also left pieces of herself up and down the Eastern Seaboard.  

There, on a bench, in a sea of amusement seekers, she found herself in more peril than the man she’d come to execute. This was not supposed to be a night for epiphanies. Or an opus to a past life.  

She was a professional with a job to do. Kill. Get paid. End of story.  

But…somehow…in the midst of literal fun and games, her past was seemingly becoming her present. Air pumped into her lungs by streaking coasters and screaming carnie rides. Detrimentally familiar smells and sounds seemed to jar a part of her which had mysteriously fallen asleep. A former self, which until now, she’d forgotten ever existed.  

Nikki had heard of this sort of thing happening. Hits going wrong. Attacks of conscience out of  nowhere. Sudden realizations too frightening for even people who murder other people to deal with. The existential crisis, shrinks called it. The dark night of the soul.  

Was this really how her career would end? Her life? 

If she didn’t complete her task then the answer was, without a doubt, yes. Another clap of warm breeze from the ride jolted her back.  

Jubilant shrieks pulled her gaze up to the boat ride. Four small arms waving above their heads. Brave thrill seekers. Nikki couldn’t help but smile. She scanned the group below and found the man’s wife taking pictures with her phone. Mementos. Snapshots that she could treasure always.  

This last moment, on an amusement park ride, would never be again.  

Still plagued by mysterious deliberations, Nikki’s mind again began to wander away from her target. Agitated. Frightened. What was all this about anyway? Money? No. It was not about money.  

My own country turned me into a mindless, killing machine, she reflected, her eyes falling toward the ground. She’d stopped fighting years ago and gave in to her training.  

This is who I am. I have no choice. No matter what, I can’t stop.  

Before her career as a government assassin began, Nikki had been an average kid from Middle America. A little girl with a ponytail and a bicycle. She lived with her parents in an apartment complex. She went to school and had friends. She’d been the kind of kid who believed in dreams.  

Where was that little girl now?

Gone with the wind, Nikki told herself, trying to retrieve the last instance. That final moment when the light dimmed. The trigger, so to speak. She strained to remember. When had she been altered? Was it the first time she killed for her country? No.  

It was before. Before her service. Before she’d been chosen.

The massive ship swung and a gust of wind thrusted over her; blowing back more than just a few  strands of sandy-colored hair. It blew open a window somewhere in her dormant soul and an image burst through. A memory. One that she had not conjured in many years.  

A teeny, tiny yellow duck. No, she begged, still clinging to her chest. The soft blue fabric. She could practically feel it between her finger tips. The light scent of baby powder. A square shape of material with a small stain in the middle. 

No. No. I can’t…  

No longer in control, the past zeroed in on the baby blanket, Nikki covered her mouth at the  realization. Blood! From the deep, dark abyss below, an internal ache spread throughout her body. A scab picked and a wound once again open began to seep.  

The baby. What happened to the baby? I can’t…  

Nikki pinched her eyes shut as hard as she could trying to make it go away. Strangling on the lump in her throat as the garish, grey picture formed in her mind’s eye. Her son. Just a tiny baby. Her husband, face down with his thick arm tossed across the infant’s lifeless frame.  

He’d tried. He’d died trying.  

I can’t… I can’t…  

Nikki’s tear-stained eyes popped open and the suppressed memory slowly gave way to her present reality.  

Visibly shaken, she turned back toward the ride. To her horror, it was no longer swinging. And, the riders had exited the contraption.  

He was gone. 

I lost the damn target!  

Every internal alarm within her sounded at once.  

The dysphoria gave way to an explosion of anger. Nikki’s head and eyes swung from side to side, frantically searching for the target.  

It’s this dreadful place, she thought, her stomach swimming. The Fun Zone! What a crock! She had to consider the possibility that maybe this was not the right time or place; regardless of what the contract said. Another opportunity will present itself. Nikki scoffed at the idea as soon as she thought of it.  

No. It had to be now.

The target had melted into the horde of normal, denim wearing robots. Working-class stiffs with their mouth-breathing offspring all trapped together in boxes they called homes. What a dismal existence. Ordinary, boring. The lot of them. Useless, she thought sharply. Practically disgusted.  

This was the reason Nikki had chosen not to settle into what society had scripted for her. I didn’t want this, she told herself. I wanted adventure. I wanted to travel!  

And, when she’d joined the United States Navy, that had been the plan. But something happened. Something changed. The pale blue baby blanket flashed inside of her head again like a streak of lightning in a dark sky, illuminating places in her cold, programmed heart. Places that had not seen the light in many years.  

Of course, drawing a complete blank on her life was not going to be a good enough reason for  lousing up a job. At least not for her employer.  

I’ll be dead before sun up, Nikki concluded. 

She jumped from the bench seat and barreled her way through the masses. With her clenched jaw, wild with fear and uncertainty, she practically rolled over everyone in her path, destroying her ability to be invisible. People turned, stared, and whispered at her rudeness as she passed by.  

He couldn’t have gotten far, she thought. Her glassy eyes intensely searching. He had to be close. Years of harsh, purposeful discipline took over. Guiding her every step, and crushing her brief, new awakening.  

Nikki was a professional with a job to do.  

Kill. Get paid. End of story.  

She turned left, then right again. Around another metal food stand and pushed through a line waiting for something called The Hurricane. Exasperated, it wasn’t until she saw him. The boy. The target’s son, still shoveling cotton candy into his mouth, caught her eye. He was standing next to his dad by an open picnic table.  

“I’m sorry,” she whispered mostly to herself, but into the night with hopes that somehow, by the grace of the universe, the boy would hear her. This was it. She had no choice. It had to be done.  

Inopportune place and time, yes, and not nearly as surreptitious as planned, but it couldn’t be helped.

Nikki nudged her way through the last group of human road blocks and rushed toward the man with a returned sense of purpose. His wife, distracted by the younger son, had her back turned.  

Roughly 25 yards away, Nikki stopped, and pulled her Sig Mosquito from her pocket and pointed the suppressed barrel at him. The man looked up and met her laser-like gaze. For a split second, there was nothing between them but the pounding of her heart. So loud she feared everyone around her could hear it. She stared into his deep-set eyes, and everything around them disappeared. The wife and children. The parkgoers. The flashing lights. The cruel, perplexing memories were once again safely tucked away in the recesses of her mind.  

Running on nothing more than instinct and indomitable self-preservation, Nikki pulled the trigger.  

Thirty-three.