She came

One night a long time ago I fell ill. I got some viral rhinitis, cough, fever and all that jazz. I was miserable. I do not necessarily like to be taken care of, I left home because of independence issues. My parents decided so much of my life I was a little crippled alone. But, snapped out of it.

So...ill, was dating this gorgeous lady at the time. A girl so great she shocked me at almost every meeting. I called her for help. She was not 'scheduled' to visit that day.
"Hey, I need some cough medicine would you please pick some up for me?"
"Sure. What kind?"
"Just ask for cough suppressant"
"Ok, I will get it."

An hour later, she smiled into my place with some soup from her mom and cough syrup that literally tickled my brain after 30 minutes. I felt an actual finger in my cerebellum. It was hideous; that is besides the point.

The point is she drove 45 minutes, made at least two stops in the cold for me. I want to remember that always. When it is my turn to serve her, I want her to feel this blest.

The Birthday

The young boy stood up and walked slowly to the podium as his father introduced him to the people as their next leader. Like clockwork he arrived directly as his name is called out. Applause is sparse, until the guards turn their guns and encourage the scared crowd. Very few came here of their own volition. Most were forced out of their homes and boarded on buses at gunpoint. These birthday celebrations were once inundated with voluntary supporters. Not any more, those days are so far gone few remember them.

"Good evening my fellow countrymen. My fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. My comrades in the struggle. I salute you this night." He pauses for effect and begins to tell his story. He introduces the first lady as his mother, the despotic leader as his father. He speaks of them as they tucked him in to bed, picked him up from his falls and banished his fears. I for one do not believe my ears, but some of nature's most ruthless creatures are doting parents. He continues and proves to be a compelling orator.

Jas snaps me back to the task at hand, with effort I stop listening - is this how snakes feel before a charmer? We review our tools and go over the skeleton plan. Jas is a gambling man, a comprehensive plan is a rare luxury in his line of work. He checks his Beretta, drops it into the holster under his arm and relishes the familiar imperceptible weight of its comforting presence. "Jas, I have yet to see you use that thing."
"It is still good to have it around. When one needs it one absolutely needs it," he replies
His look closes further discussion. He is tense and I cannot handle the intensity in his face. "You know what you have to do right?"
"Yes sir, I do." I am nervous, but exhilarated.

"I would like to take this opportunity to introduce to you my sister, my wife. Please stand my dear." I looked up and saw the boy's betrothed, my stomach fell. She was young, smiling, gazing at him with pride and love. She was his sister, his own mother's child, like the kings of old he said. His father wore a devious, maniacal smile that made me more determined to carry out my task.

Ministers and party officials gathered at the rural mansion two hours later. Applauding each other at the success of the bash, the turnout, "Oh how the people love our noble leader!" We kept our heads down and played our parts.
"Big Top, ETA 10 minutes." Word was passed around.

Jas heard the sirens first, he looked at me, his hand went for the Beretta and he grinned, his scarred face a portrait of cold delight. "It's time," he roared and one by one the ministers fell never to rise again. I took the small group of guards, so at home they sat away from their weapons. "Idiots wanted him dead, wish granted." I thought.

My hand burned before I felt the pain. I dropped the heavy gun. Time slowed as the pain bore down upon my senses and screamed in my mind to blend with my own scream. Jas ran quickly to my side and we took cover. He quickly located the source of the shot. The advance guard was quickly put to peace.

They came and barred our exit, the two trucks, the remaining motorcycle and police cruiser. We had more firepower than we could use with 3 hands. Bullets whined and ricocheted all around. Jas was grinning like a boy on Christmas morning, his hands bloody from attending to my wound. I was stone faced, reacting, my brain was locked away. I was a drone doing my duty.

I got the boy! His little wife ran to his side as he coughed up blood and she grew a third unseeing eye. Their mother had been downed by Jas, but we could not find their father. The nanny covered the children with her body; her last act of kindness.
"Jas! He's in the driver's seat." I yelled. He was trying to make off with my quarry. I forgot caution and ran after the open vehicle shooting as I ran. I saw his shoulder fly. He slumped over the wheel. The car kept going.
"Is he dead?"
"I don't know."
"Is he dead man?"
"I don't know. He is hit, I know that."
"Blast!"

We stood alone, surrounded by corpses, yet our job might not have been completed.
"What now?"
"You get up and get to work."
"What?"

And I awoke.