Breathe, Gorgeous

I raise the bow, drawing the string back to a taught “V” as I rest two fingers on my cheek bone to stabilize the weapon.  The target stands twenty yards from my position, partially hidden behind a large oak tree. One false move from me and I know he will attack.  I inhale quietly, pausing to steady my shot before a sudden crackle sounds from the ear piece in my left ear. “Breathe, Gorgeous” my heart clenches at the whispered voice unsteadies my arms so suddenly I nearly loose my arrow prematurely. Dropping my hands, I fold myself behind the tree with a muffled sigh.  “I was breathing” I hiss through gritted teeth fighting a smile.  “You almost made me miss.” I take another deep breath, checking my equipment and the position of my target.  A long sigh of relief creates a cloud of steam into the chilling air. Good, it’s still there. I ready myself again faster this time making two quick draws of the bow string and fire.  The arrow sails with precision as I turn away, slinging my quiver onto my back. I hear the arrow make purchase with a thick thunk. Stalking towards my prey, careful to place my feet on the well-worn path, I scan the thick woods for any other signs of life. I am completely alone.  My aim was true; the arrow protrudes from a back covered in muscles and tattoos. I stare at the intricate lines of deep black ink as blood pools around the wound. He takes slow, ragged breaths as I realize that the arrow pierced a lung instead of his heart, guess my aim was not as good as I thought. “Is he dead” the voice in my ear flows smoothly with the sheepish question.  “He will be, soon” I say with a loud croak; the first words I have spoken at full volume since I arrived at the lookout point four hours ago.  I pull the arrow from the muscular tissue as the man takes a last strangled breath. I give him the privacy, he doesn’t deserve, to die as I look at the tattoo of red ring around my pinky. I look back at his series of tribal symbols that are haphazardly arranged no doubt sourced from the internet with no regard for their meaning.  Mine has meaning, purpose, and memory.  “We are not the same” I assure myself with a whisper to the now limp body at my feet fighting the urge to kick it until it is tender.  “Coming back to base” I say louder. Without looking I wipe the tip of the arrow off with a microfiber towel before sticking it back in the quiver, making a mental note to clean it thoroughly when I get to water.  

I begin the trek back to the fire tower I use as base camp, the voice speaks slowly again, even at a whisper the deep bluesy tone reaches to my bones heating my chilled skin.   

 “So, we are just leaving him there?”  

 “Yep” I answer curtly as I concentrate on my foot placement in the thick leaves.  

“No cover? Where anyone can find his dead body?”  I scowl at the implication that my work in sloppy.  

“Yep, just like he left those woman...and that little girl. With any luck a bear will come along for a wee snack soon”.   

“Fair enough.” he releases a chuckle that reverbs through my head forcing me to halt my steps to get my bearings. His crooning voice loops into every fiber of me like a hug “Careful getting back to base, gorgeous.” The honorific sends the warmth from my cheeks to my chest and I smile in spite of myself. 

The walk is silent for a while as I take the longest route to the tower, pushing my way through thick under brush and ducking under enormous branches careful not to leave any footprints or debris in my wake that may give me away. Silence, my heartbeat, and wind all rush around my head. “Um, can you say, um, something.”  my bravado has faltered I need to hear him.  “That was a great shot back there, lovely.  Very clean kill” I close my eyes briefly as I pause under a tree.  “Thanks” I sigh. “Really glad that bastard didn’t see me.  my arrows only make good stabbing tools from far away” a beat silence falls then a soft chuckle breaks through the line. I smile broadly, so glad my joke landed.  

 “Why didn’t you watch.” his question is clipped as if he has been thinking about is for a while. 

“What?”  

 “Back there, you turned away after you shot. You always look away. why didn’t you look?  watch the bastard fall.”  

 “I know my aim is good, I know I hit the target why would I watch him fall?”  

“Satisfaction”  

 “That’s not the reason the agency sent me out here.  If it where I would be no better than the disgusting retches we dispose of” 

 “You're a better person than I” his voice is a whisper again. “Please, don’t get all serious on me” I do nothing to hide the begging in my voice.  I need him to be happy, to make jokes.  

As I pass an antient oak tree, I pull the dark yellow strip of fabric I used as a marker from a branch above my head without looking, wrapping it around my wrist and pulling the fabric so tight against my skin the treads pop in a delightful sequence. I wince at the sharp sting of pain; anything to feel instead of think. “Five minutes to base” I announce to my disembodied companion.  “Check.”  the voice is muffled, distant as he speaks then a loud crack splits my ear. A bolt of panic laces my nerves and I freeze like a frightened doe “what the fuck, Eric!”  The line is silent and heat rushes to the muscles in my legs as I prepare to fight.  There is no sound for several moments, the woods around me go still as if the animals know that something is wrong.  “Eric?” my breath, growing heavy; I can’t lose him not... My mind empties and I take off.   “Fine, baby, fine” I stop inches from an enormous branch set directly at eye level threatening to impale me.  “Mmm, god damned radio as a short I think.” his voice is muffled, the words are punctuated by the smack of lips. “What was that noise?” My voice sounds far away as I try to slow the persistent whooshing in my ears, straining to hear him. I startle as he speaks the com crackling annoyingly with every word “Damn radio burnt my finger” I brace myself against a tree, staring at the horizon as the sun is beginning to set. “Are you hurt?”  Please be okay.  “I'm fine, nothing a little spit won't cure” I squirm, clenching my toes in my boots at the thought of his wet lips sucking on thick calloused fingers; I try to push the image from my mind realizing I am feet from the fire tower.  “Christ” is all I can puff out as stare at the tiny shack on stilts.  “I’m here” I puff again.  “Great, just 300 steps to me.”  he whispers down the com so close I can feel his breath on my ear.   I try to keep my voice even as I reply. “Shut up.  I know over 100 ways to kill you” his tone deepens “yes; and I know 10 reasons why you won't.”  I curl my toes again as he annunciates the last words and quickly start my assent.  The incline of stairs increases rapidly and I talk to distract form the burn in my legs, at least that is what I tell myself.  “Ten! Don’t you think your conflating that number a bit” for a moment all I can hear are the sounds of my feet as they hit the wooden steps and my heart pounding.  “Well, eleven...no twelve. If I’m counting correctly.  Want me to tell how I’d use them?”  His voice takes a sultry tone as my feet quicken on the steps.  “Shut...” I groan cutting myself off.   “The original 10, shouldn’t that be an 8?”  another pregnant pause. “Thumbs are fingers to, sweetheart.  I can do a lot with thumbs” I moan involuntarily covering my mouth hoping he didn’t hear.  “Let’s change the subject, please. I’m sure no one at HQ wants to hear where this is going.”  the silence on the line is deafening, the percussion of my heartbeat drowns out every other sound as I wait for him to speak. Stopping for a minute to catch my breath I scan the tree line looking for a moment at the area where my kill still lies. The trees are still, I can see no sign that someone has found the body.  A pang of guilt rushes through me at what I’ve done before I remind myself that it is just a job.  I’m not a bad person, I get rid of bad people.  His voice emerges slowly, “The coms aren’t open, gorgeous.  it’s just you and me here.”  Another sharp pop reverbs through the earpiece.   “Now where were we, oh ya I was about to tell you what these hands can do.” I quicken my pace, foot falls echoing into the frigid air, excitement coursing through my core. An overwhelming need to see his face and hold his body makes my feet light.    “Whoa, pay attention to where you're going.  the steps get really narrow at this point.”  I look down just as the tread transitions to a only toe width.  I slow my steps as I climb the treacherous part. “Thanks.” Suddenly two separate thoughts fight my conscience for supremacy, a question and a command that splits me down the middle.  First, how does he know what part of the stairs I’m on? The second, get to him, now!   I picture him smiling crookedly at me as he removes the gear from my exhausted limbs; using all 12 reasons to ease my aching body.   “Breathe” his voice is jovial but hollow, as if he is on the opposite side of the room.  “Eric?” I freeze, the voice is mine but it did not come from me. “I’m here, baby” his voice sounds underwater now.   I begin my final ascent, nearly sprinting the last 50 steps needing to see him, needing him in my arms.  

In no time I stand at the entrance of base camp, only a solid oak door between us.  I push it harder than I need to and squint as my eyes adjust to the change in light.  “I’m here” I announce pulling the gear free of my body. “I’m here” I pull the heavy boots from my aching feet and peel the jacket form my shoulders.  My eyes fully adjust the dim light of the sanctuary. “I’m...here” I whisper to the empty room, the still, stale air choking my words. The barren room empties of color as I swing my head around looking for Eric. I feel him here, I know he has to be here.  Tears prick the corners of my eyes before my thoughts can catch up. “Eric, love where are...” a screech in my left ear sends me to my knees and I pull the cracked ear piece out of my ear.  I place it on the table on top of a medical document, the words trauma, mental break, and violent death catch my eye and I angrily wipe tears from my cheeks before stopping the recording on the radio with a sigh. I lay on the bed, wrapping my arms around my torso closing my eyes.  A breeze wafts through the open window bring a voice warm and raspy and sweet

“Breathe Gorgeous”.