Page 1 of Closer Than You Think
One
Silas
When blood spills, I can breathe again.
Deep breaths extend into the depths of my lungs, filling me up in a way nothing else ever does.
The man I was sent to kill lays on the wooden plank floor of the cabin he’d been hiding out in. I don’t know what he did to earn a hit from Ares, but that’s not my business. Someone pays and provides a name, we do the job. So few can afford it and even fewer know about us. It’s a lucky position that weeds out the pointless jobs.
I look from him to the knife I’m holding. Blood stains my hands, a deep red against my tan skin. The texture always intoxicates me. Viscous, slippery, slightly sticky as it coagulates in real time. I rarely bother to use gloves like I should because I love it so much. So few people have the pleasure to relish in it. So few peoplewantto relish in it, but I consider that a defect in the average person’s character.
I should be cleaning up by now, but I take a moment to appreciate the kill, the peace that settles over me. It’s the only way I get it nowadays, and no one else is here to interrupt me, so I let myself linger. Just for a couple minutes. But then my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
“What?” I ask, pulling it up to my ear. It’s Cain, my brother-in-arms. The closest person I have to family.
“Just checking in on you, Silas. You said it wouldn’t take more than a couple hours and it’s been almost four.”
Ididsay that.
“Yeah, fucker took longer eating than I thought. Came up here to hide out and then spent an hour and a half at the fucking diner. It’s done though. I’m cleaning up and heading out in twenty.”
“Alright. Blake just got back from his job. And Jet is getting a room up in New Hampshire. Shit went south and he’ll need an extra day.”
“Fuck. Anything I should worry about? He need backup?”
“Nah, the plan just fell apart. He’s got it.”
“Okay. Make sure he checks in regularly. I don’t like when simple jobs go sideways.”
“Me either, and I’m already on it.”
“Figured you would be.”
“Alright, just get out of there and let me know when you’re back in the city.”
“Sure thing, Mom.”
“Hey, what were you just saying about checking in regularly?”
I laugh and hang up on him. Cain is a little more anxious than the rest of us, especially because of his past. But I appreciate how much he cares and how much he does for all of us at Ares. The man is an expert in computers and can also kill a man with his bare hands in ten seconds flat. He’s exactly the kind of person I’d have looked for to run the Ares command center if I wasn’t lucky enough to already know him.
I pocket my phone and clean up my knife and hands. I don’t bother cleaning up the rest of the scene or the body. This cabin hadn’t been touched in over a year before the target came here,and he had no known connection to it. I made sure of that. No one will find his body until it’s good and decomposed. If at all.
One thing that sets Ares apart is knowing how to personalize each hit. Violent, quick, messy, clean, public, quiet . . . each one is its own story, and we have plans and contingencies for each type of kill.
Tonight was supposed to be in and out, quick and quiet. The delay at the diner was only a temporary setback. But now the job is done. The kill was clean and precise, just a single thrust between the ribs to pierce the heart. No spray, no struggle. If it had been Cain or Jet or Blake, they wouldn’t have gotten a drop of blood on them.
But I’m . . . different.
Satisfied my hands are clean, I take one final look around the cabin to ensure I haven't left any traces behind.
The coppery aroma of blood hangs thick in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of pine and cedar. I commit every detail to memory - the growing pool of crimson seeping into the cracks between the floorboards, the vacant stare in my victim's lifeless eyes, the heady rush that courses through my veins.
These are the moments I live for, when time stands still and my true self emerges from the shadows. The kill satisfies something primal and savage within me that lurks beneath the composed facade I present to the world. Here, alone with my handiwork, I am simply a predator indulging his darkest urges.
With my duffel bag in hand, I make my way outside into the moonlit woods. The night air is cool and crisp, invigorating. I take a deep breath, savoring my satiated bloodlust before compartmentalizing it again. There will be another time, another target. For now, I need to disappear like a shadow into the darkness.
The SUV is waiting where I left it, half a mile down an old, unused logging road. I toss my bag in the back and slide into the driver's seat. As the engine rumbles to life, I think of her.
