Even the best of hunters had scars. Wounds so deep even the ground they stepped on would be soiled by grief and sorrow. Everyone’s pain would be different. The shape of the scar would never be the same. But how to live with it? Everyone struggled. There was never a solution that worked for everyone, an approach to solve all ills. With pain and scars, many were forced to deal with them alone.
To Neshoba, every night was the same struggle. The same dream played over and over again. To be in the role of the same craven child. The shotgun in his hand was heavy. Everything was when he was 10. Oh, how one would walk down the dark tunnel. A young boy slugging knee deep through blood. He was determined, alert, but most importantly, he was terrified.
In a world his mind conjured and torture him every single night. A faint smell lingered. A familiar scent. It was his best friend’s deodorant. His friend would always carry it with him on every mission like it was some sort of good luck charm. Neshoba never liked it, as it would have a strong musky odour. However, the body spray had a fragrant scent when mixed with gore.
With every step that disturbed the pool of ocean. The creature which slaughtered his team swam closer. Its skinny mouth watered, excited to feast on the flesh of a child. How the others were so easy to pick off one by one. They thought they had a chance against it. The boy, the last one standing. Was the youngest out of his entire group and the least experienced in hunting the horrors that festered in the dark. It was meant to be an easy kill, one last treat.
The knock on the door jolted Neshoba awake. Like every other night, his body was covered in sweat. ‘Shit.’ He grumbled to himself. His hands cupping his face like he was trying to wash away some kind of filth. Another knock came from his motel door, urging him to rise from his place of rest to answer. He was annoyed he had to break his sleep, but at the same time, he grew accustomed to not getting any for long periods of time. After checking his watch, he groaned to find out it was only 11pm. He only had an hour's worth of sleep.
When he opened the door, the delivery man held onto a parcel. ‘You must be Doctor Keys.’
Doctor? That is a first. ‘Yes, I am Doctor Keys.’
The delivery man handed Neshoba the parcel and got him to sign a piece of paper before heading off. Upon opening it, he found an SCL earpiece and car keys. ‘Of course it is you.’ Neshoba put on the earpiece to speak to his information broker. ‘Hey Claire. It is good to see you again.’
Laughter ran from the other end of the line. ‘Nes, don’t tell me I am that predictable. Surely I made our reunion more eventful than last time.’
‘By waking me up in the middle of the night?’
‘Nes, do you ever sleep during the middle of the night?’
Neshoba chuckled at her response before sitting down on his bed. ‘Alright, fair point. But let’s make this quick. What do you know about our target?’
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
‘Straight to business. Alright, I’ll switch on for you.’ Claire responded with a stern tone. ‘Jackson Abernu is an enigma. Even when I have permission to search through the archives relating to him, they are still buried behind red tape, censorship, and even more barriers that prevent me from reading them. Besides his reputation of being a talented psychopath, he is an unknown.’
‘Shouldn’t be the case. When I was with my old unit, I heard stories of the reptile. Went by the name Johnson. Most of the stories I was told sound made up. I honestly thought he was a myth until I aged out of Stolen Youth.’
‘Well, any piece of information can be helpful to understand our target. I think it is best if you assume that every story you were told is, no matter how absurd, all true. Jackson is dangerous, and I dread the idea of you being unprepared to go against him.’
Neshoba smiled at her concern. He never thought Claire had some sort of a soft spot for him. ‘You know I am not a rumours sort of guy. I need facts and truths to figure out what I am dealing with and how to kill him. So, how did we discover his existence and where?’
‘A pharmacy near Cherokee Village. The store caught footage of the reptile, but fortunately we scrubbed it as it made its way through the cloud. However, the police, the store owner, and possibly whoever saw the footage, will have knowledge of Jackson. But as of now, people would mostly see the break in as some weird junky trashing the place and having a nervous breakdown while wearing a costume.’
‘Do you know what was stolen from the pharmacy?’
Claire paused for a moment before responding. ‘Inventory only states a bottle of Aripiprazole is stolen. An atypical antipsychotic used to treat people with schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and autism. A strange thing to steal, but I think it might be an accident as some of their medication was destroyed during the break in or missing in small quantities. I think Jackson was looking for some sort of pain relief. Even in the footage he seemed to be in agony.’
‘Still best not to throw away that report. Maybe he was looking for an antipsychotic to help him in some way.’
‘Which makes the whole thing worse. You are fighting a schizophrenic or bipolar killer with far more years than you under his belt. But I will go through every file that might remotely relate to him. In the meantime, get some rest and we can talk tomorrow.’
‘Thanks Claire. And it is good to work with you again.’
Claire giggled at the other end of the line. ‘Before you go, I want to give you a heads up about your new car. You are going to like it. Also, it comes with a suit and you have to wear it.’
