He heard the click of a chamber being checked.
Minutes went by as Gunner waited for Kallan to peer around the crate’s corner to see if he was finally alone. To raise his weapon and check if the path was clear. To creep from the shadows and toward his own death.
The man had harassed Elodie, touched her against her will, and interrupted one too many conversations.I would’ve killed you in passing if you hadn’t come back.
For her. To sate your sick curiosity.Kallan and he were alike in that. All the more reason for him to die.
Movement, slow, deliberate, filled his ears; the brush of cloth and polyester against metal. His prey moved along the tiny gap between two crates one step at a time.
Kallan’s eyes met his the moment he appeared, freezing. Even in the dark, his bloodshot sclera was visible.
“Gunner,” Kallan swallowed sickly and backpedaled. “I want no trouble!” He tried to slink between the crates.
“No, you don’t!” Gunner shot forward and gripped Kallan by the neck, dragging him out into the open and tossing the man’s firearm to the ground contemptuously. He sank the protruding tips of his jackal claws into the clammy flesh of Kallan’s neck, feeling the blood blossom underneath them, enjoying its wet warmth.Soon to be cold.
Kallan sputtered and struggled. “I didn’t do anything!” he choked out. “There’s no sense in killing me! I came to break my boy out.” Noises bubbled up within Kallan’s tight throat, moving under Gunner’s palm.
“Is that so? Where’syour boythen? I was just in the brig.”
“Safe! In the back. I can show you!”
Gunner squeezed Kallan’s neck before releasing his hold. Kallan dropped and scurried away until his back hit the wall of a crate, hands clutching his throat.
“Lead me to him.” Gunner smirked.How far will the lies go?He knew Elodie wasn’t here. She’d never been in this space. Not a trace of her was present.
Kallan spat and rose to his feet, his eyes slitted and beady. “The pirates took your ship from you, same as me.” The man tried to change his angle.
“Lead me to Ely.”
“They don’t even have it onboard. The ship, I mean. You want your ship back, right?” He hissed, ignoring Gunner’s demand. “They have our ships somewhere else. I can find out where.”
Gunner’s smile twisted into a feral grin. “Oh?” Ballsy’s conversation replayed in his mind, and with it came another surge jolted through his mainframe. His jackal ears popped out of his head.
“T-they’re on their way to Elyria, but the rest of the fleet.” Kallan gulped, noticing his long, sharp ears. The outward metal mesh jittered, generating even more noise. “The rest of the fleet is elsewhere.”
“You’ve only told me what I already know. How does that help me get my ship?”
“I can find out where it is! We both want the same thing. We can work together. You need me!”
“Is that so?”
“Y-yes!”
Gunner cracked his neck. He had never wanted to work with someone less than he did Kallan. The jackal in him laughed, flashing his teeth and flaring the red glow of his eyes. “We can work together...if you show me to Ely.”
Kallan stammered, “Boy-o means nothing to us. H-he’s safe in the back but not needed.” He wiped his hand over his mouth. “We should move now and get the information. I saw the mutilated bodies.” Kallan checked him out. Gunner knew he was riddled with bullet wounds. Dried blood flaked from his body every time he moved. “They’ll be flooding the area soon, if we go now, we can ambush them... Together.”
“That’s not going to work for me.” Gunner took a step back. He was bored now.
“I can make it work. You’re not listening to me! I can get you what you want. What’re you doing?”
Another step back. It was time to end this. “Getting what I want.”
Kallan stiffened, head cocked to the side. His greasy hair fell over his shoulder in stringy masses. “You’re leaving?”
Gunner didn’t answer, instead he melted back into the shadows, and quieted his steps. He moved out of Kallan’s sight and stalked around to the back of the crates, listening to the stream of hissed curses his prey released. When the smell of fear began to dissipate and the thundering strums of the man’s heart lessened—when Kallan’s adrenaline hushed and a stressful sense of safety began to return—Gunner crept into the thin opening on the other side of the crates and waited for the man to return to his hiding hole.
That’s where Kallan met his gaze again, for the last time. Gunner savored the moment: the bright shock of Kallan’s terror, the predatory joy of prey caught, right before he pulled out his precious AutoMag and shot him in the head.
