Audition (North Security 4)

I don’t trust him at all. Honestly, I won’t be shocked if this ends with a bullet in my back and a quick descent to the bottom of the swamp. I wouldn’t be the first guy to go out that way. Bodies have a way of disappearing in the bayou. Some of them resurface in parts. Some of them never resurface at all.

My one pang of regret is that I didn’t go and see Bethany before this boys’ night out. It makes no fucking sense, because she’s not mine.

I aim my gun to the horizon. A movement in the brush. A duck flies through the trees. It’s right between my crosshairs… I move an inch to the right and pull the trigger. A loud blast. The duck flies away. “Damn,” I say, my voice flat.

“Nice try,” Caleb says, sounding smug.

He wants to be the best shot here. I could say that’s why I missed on purpose, but the truth is, I don’t have the heart for killing at the moment. I’m sick and fucking tired of it. Maybe that’s why I agreed to it when my commander sat me down with someone from the CIA. We’ve been looking into Caleb Lewis. You’re in a unique position to get information for us. There’s a commendation in it for you. And if you’re interested, a job with us. Who exactly are you? That’s what I asked. Get the information. Then we’ll talk. So who the fuck knows? Someone who gathers information instead of dodging bombs in the middle of the fucking desert, so yeah, I’m interested.

A fly buzzes by my ear, and I swat it away. Water sloshes against Caleb’s boots. He stands shoulder to shoulder with me. How far is he going to take this? Is he going to sling an arm around my shoulders and welcome me into the fold?

Jesus. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fake my enthusiasm if he does.

“Connor’s right.” He trains his gun out over the surface of the water and looks through the scope. “We’ve got a good fucking system. And at our level, very few people are paying attention. They underestimate us, don’t they?”

Caleb thinks we’re all just above grunts. We’ve got enough access to get to the weaponry, and he’s scraped together enough trust to rob the United States Army blind.

Noah wades past us, a wad of chew in his cheek. He wades a respectable distance before he spits into the water at his feet. Caleb and I shift forward to get in a line with him. Better this way. If one of them is going to shoot me tonight, I’ll see it coming. Not that it’ll make any difference. I think about Bethany’s smile, flashing white in the starlit darkness of her grandmother’s backyard. I wonder if she knows where I am tonight. If she’ll think anything of it if I don’t come back. Morbid shit.

“It’ll be more lucrative now that you’re on board,” Caleb adds.

“Good. I’m not going to help you out of the fucking kindness of my heart.”

A chuckle. “Kindness of your heart. That’s a good one, North.”

Caleb is right about that. I had the last vestiges of kindness beaten out of me years before I shipped off to boot camp. It almost made me feel sorry for some of the guys who signed on at the same time. They were soft. Came from suburbs named after Robin Hood fairy tales. Flinched away from a punch.

My older brother walked away without looking back. A year later I did the same thing. I haven’t spoken to either of them since then. For once I wish that I’d changed that. I’d like their advice about this. Does it make me a fucking snitch to turn on Caleb? Do I even want a job that’s based on those lack of principles?

Then again, those guns he’s selling will be used against me. Against my older brother Liam. Against Elijah too, if he enlisted the year he turned eighteen.

That’s reason enough to turn on him.

Except his sister is Bethany.

Dear Liam and Elijah, how would you feel about your dear brother turning traitor just so he can properly fuck a sixteen year old girl? Not exactly a sweet family reunion, but one that’s fitting for the North family.

Noah pulls the trigger of his 12-gauge so smooth and quick the click barely registers before the shot rings out. I stand tall, my own gun still hanging from the strap across my back. A line of ducks rises from the water in a panic. Wings pumping. Sounding the alarm to one another. I have the wild hope that it’s not too late for them.

Or maybe it’s me I’m thinking about.

“Got one,” says Noah. It’s a typical Noah comment. Brief.

“Fuck yes,” Connor shouts.

He takes aim at the fleeing ducks and squeezes off three shots that go so wide I have half a mind to scold him about wasting shells.

I keep my damn mouth shut.

Noah sloshes out to get his kill. He slings it into a shopping basket in the bottom of the boat. It’s my turn to casually get my gun in my hands and flick off the safety. I don’t like the way Caleb’s looking at me. Makes the hairs on the back of my neck reach for the sky. Does he know I’ve been taking Bethany out? Is that what this shit is all about? I’m not stupid enough to think that Caleb has any depth of goodness left in him. But he does have a certain lust for blood and vengeance. We all do. Thank you to the army for making it a marketable skill.

The minutes bleed away, the sun wheeling toward the tops of the cypress trees. I’ve successfully pretended to drink the same can of beer for the entire outing. The color leeches from the bayou while the seconds tick by. Frogs sing louder. I count my own heartbeats. Each one is a small triumph. Noah shoots another duck. Caleb lurks around, looking smug as hell. I keep my finger off the trigger…but close by. Somehow it doesn’t seem like a good bet to waste a shot on a harmless duck. Easy enough to play up feeling buzzed. Caleb stops watching me quite as close.

By the time Caleb flicks on the light at the front of the aluminum boat, the air is thick with flies. Connor’s drunk. The light catches his eyes and reflects back an almost crazed excitement. It’s too much for a duck hunting trip during which he’s killed zero ducks.

Something’s not right.

Either that or I’m a paranoid motherfucker.