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Sixty-Two - Part I

Poison stood on the sidewalk in front of the door and hesitated. Her grip tightened.

‘Are you nervous?’ The squeeze of her grip was returned.

Poison shrugged helplessly. ‘A little. I can’t invite you in. Sorry.’

‘Hum.’ Anna ran a hand through her hair, combing it back. ‘Okay.’

‘No! It’s not -’ Poison sighed. ‘It’s not because I don’t want to. But I’m already not supposed to take you this far, and the guys are peculiar about secrecy, and maybe they’re even right, but we’re moving anyway, and I’ve already been to your place and -’

‘Breathe. It’s okay.’ Anna pulled her closer with their interlocked hands and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Poison closed her arms around the shorter girl and sighed.

‘I’ll talk to them, promise.’

Anna chuckled. ‘As long as they don’t mind my little gift, I’m okay with that.’

Before Poison could ask what this was about a gift now, Anna leant forward and pressed a kiss onto her neck, biting gently.

‘See you later, Straw!’

Poison stood dumbfounded for a moment. When she managed to open her mouth to retort, Anna had already vanished around the next corner, leaving only a trace of her laughter.

The warm feeling lingered on Poison’s neck. Her fingers felt no irregularity along the skin, but she figured she would have a nice visible hickey soon enough. A “gift”, huh? She’d have to tell the guys, then. No way they wouldn’t notice, or let her live it down. Great.

She did feel a slight jolt of her heart at the nickname, though. Straw and Storm, they had selected for each other. Storm for Anna because she could be a bit intense at times, in any direction, and Straw for Poison because she weathered it without loosing her stride.

It was cheesy, and probably unnecessary, but Poison liked having another name. It was a way to not use their cover names, but not their real ones, either. Private in a way that pleased Poison immensely.

And yes, it made her feel special, despite the jokes the guys would make. She would have to try and not blush when they found out. Why was she ashamed for something that made her feel good? Stupid brain.

Poison unlocked the building door and started up the stairs.

Maybe it really was high time to spill the beans. She didn’t doubt the guys had caught on to her tea excuse about two weeks ago. It was amazing they hadn’t mentioned anything on their own yet. Self-control. Or something more mischievous. She would find out.

With a deep breath, Poison approached the last set of stairs. Now, preparations, from the top.

Orion wouldn’t be angry.

Lilly would approve.

Lilly wouldn’t view Anna as a security risk.

Orion wouldn’t forbid contact.

They would want to meet Anna.

They would like her.

It would all go swimmingly.

And if she repeated all of that often enough, it would come true, and they would all dance around with faeries and rainbows, happy ever after.

Poison sighed, gathered her courage, and unlocked the door.

Orion’s keys were on the small table next to the door. Lilly’s were gone, so he was probably out to meet with Eliah again. He had spent all day packing up, so she guessed he could use the time away. The next week would be filled enough with things to do and places to be, precautions to take. Poison had spent the day with the girl she liked, Lilly deserved the same.

‘I’m back,’ she called into the room. Orion’s jacket was in its customary spot on the floor. The hangers that had once been mounted on the inside of the door had come off only this morning, but Orion had stopped using them days ago. He seemed glad for the excuse not to clean up his stuff.

Poison shrugged to herself and her jacket joined Orion’s in the corner. ‘You wanna start moving boxes already or have pizza first?’

Her hat joined the two jackets. ‘We could watch a movie on my laptop-’

A stranger stood in the middle of the living room. He had a gun held loosely in one hand, casually at his side.

Hit-man, her instincts supplied instantly. Everything, the weapon, the cold, the easy balance, screamed killer into her mind. She’d grown lax, feeling so safe in her apartment that she didn’t notice a killer until he was in front of her. Stupid.

Poison tensed, ready to strike. Depending on his experience and skill, he might not get the gun up in time to fire before she struck him. Surprise was her only chance. He was trained to win fights, to overpower and kill even those with experience. No guarantee surprise would even be a chance at all. She had to try, though. She wouldn’t go down easily.

‘Poison,’ Orion’s quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. She noticed him only then. He was sitting on the couch, hands clasped, looking very tired. ‘Sit, please.’

Something in his tone, something resigned and fatal, planted a seed of fear in her mind much deeper than her earlier dread. She gave the hit-man another, closer look.

The sleeves of his dark canvas jacket were pushed up his arms, baring the insides of his forearms. On the left one, halfway between elbow and gun hand, was a simple tattoo outlining a running wolf. Broad, violent stroked inked in red.

Ten.

She’d heard of his work, of course. She was very thankful he hadn’t gotten his hands on her a few years back, that one time she’d been stupid enough to annoy Max Rivers. Okay, maybe it had been the second time, but still. Anybody involved in the city’s shady layers new to avoid a visit from Ten. Few people emerged from those alive, and of them very few with all their digits left intact.

Very slowly, she navigated around the boxes towards the couch and settled down next to Orion. Ten started pacing, and from Orion’s resigned expression, he had been doing that for a while now. Poison wondered about that, and about what to expect. Was Ten here to kill them? To interrogate them? Was he waiting for something? Would there be nastier methods coming?

Thoughts of fights and escape wormed into her mind and were only slightly dimmed by the sight of the gun still in Ten’s hand. She could grab it when he turned, force it up and away, and take him out. Orion could help, he was passable in a fight.

A combat knife was strapped to Ten’s lower back in a sideways sheath. Orion could slip that, or she could block it. She still had the darts tucked along her waistband, after all.

That thought stopped her in her tracks. She still had her darts. Ten hadn’t checked her for weapons, hadn’t even asked for them. She realized that he didn’t fear her. Didn’t even worry about her, or anything she might do.

He was a trained killer. If he didn’t give her a second glance and turned his back to her, none of her plans would work. She was no threat. If she had been, and he went about making mistakes such as dismissing her as harmless, he wouldn’t be alive and active any more. His job was too risky and too dangerous for that order of miscalculation.

‘How long has he been here?’, she whispered to Orion, barely moving air between her lips.

‘Speak up or stay silent,’ Ten growled, not pausing in his pacing. He had heard her.

Poison opted for silent. He was cautious, then, just not of any physical attack. Smart, when dealing with Orion. And he was in a bad mood already. No need to provoke him further.

A few minutes of terse silence passed which Poison spent worrying and sweating over their near future. Finally, Ten cursed loudly and probably colourfully, in a language Poison didn’t recognize. He packed away his gun, drew the knife, and twirled it a few times between his fingers. The pacing stopped, and the hit-man sat on the edge of the coffee table, glaring at them.

‘Call your third member here.’

Orion wordlessly drew out his phone, dialled, and listened for the line to connect.

‘Bring pizza,’ and he hung up.

That was the code for an urgent meeting, with no threat to the usual location, their home. Poison stared at Orion and for just a second, she lost her fear to outrage.

‘The hells, Orion! What is he doing here?’

Both men turned to look at her. Poison paled as the fear rapidly came back to her. ‘Um...’

‘It’s okay,’ Orion sighed. ‘Poison, this is Jordan. Jordan, Poison. Jordan and I know each other from… before.’

‘You’re friends with freaking Ten?’ The exclamation was out before she could snap her mouth shut. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Ten’s grin was humourless and cold enough to send shivers down her spine. Orion just rubbed at his eyes.

‘Yeah. Well. Remember we were poking into Dan Shio? Turns out Dan isn’t our friend Daniel Brooks, from the police station, who can’t really do us much harm, but our friend Jordan, who is very much pissed at us snooping into his business.’

The lock on the front door clicked and opened. The door fell shut again a second later. A jacket joined the two others on the floor, then Lilly came into view, phone still in hand.

‘I was just on the stairs when you called. Something came up so I came home early. What’s up?’

Lilly took a step further into the room. Poison could tell from his expression the exact moment he spotted Ten’s knife.

‘Sit.’

The command was cold and sharp, and Lilly flinched before hastily sitting next to Poison, shooting a quick look at Ten. He blanched at the gun and the stare directed at him and swallowed.

‘Anyone wanna tell me what’s going on here?’

Orion sighed. ‘Fuck it. This is Jordan, one of Max Rivers’ - um...’

He almost said “pet killers”, Poison thought.

‘… ah, personal hit-men,’ Orion saved his answer.

Better.

‘He goes by Dan Shio right now, and wants to know what in the hells we were thinking going after him. Since the name is also marked in Daniel Brooks’ file, and we screwed up ten ways already, we’re gonna join Jordan in clearing that up.’

Lilly blinked. ‘Okay. Sure. Nice. Should I just shoot myself now?’

‘You’re not doing anything,’ Ten growled. Poison couldn’t bring herself to fit the harmless name of “Jordan” to the killer in front of her.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

‘You’re also not moving out of this flat. You’re staying here until I say otherwise. Any of you make a move to leave, I’ll know. Any of you fuck up, I’ll know.’

He pointed his knife at them in turn, emphasizing his point.

‘You will find out whatever you can about Daniel Brooks, and give that information to me. You will continue searching for Michael Runner, with my resources, and bring him as soon as you find him.’

‘How do you know we’re looking for Michael?’ Lilly didn’t bother trying to play dumb, and Poison wondered whether he was ignorant or just careless, or didn’t think he could lie.

Ten gave him a humourless grin. ‘It’s my job, and I always do my homework. In return for your cooperation, I’ll overlook your transgressions into my business, and my employer’s by extension.’

If they played along, he wouldn’t torture and kill them. Good offer, in Poison’s book.

Orion sighed and rubbed at his eyes again. ‘All right.’

‘Orion!’, Lilly exclaimed, horrified. ‘You can’t just agree to hand over Michael! What do they even want with him? We can’t just give him to Max Rivers!’

Definitely ignorant or careless. Suicidal was starting to look like a viable option, too.

Orion kept his eyes on Ten, ignoring Lilly completely. ‘I’ll have to meet with your contacts in person’

‘You-’

Poison clamped a hand over Lilly’s mouth and held him close to her, ignoring his struggles. In truth, she was barely fighting off shaking with fear and shock. But right now, the best things to do was to let Orion negotiate for their lives.

‘Is all this cleared with Rivers?’

Ten gave him a small smile. ‘I’ll take care of it.’ He stood. ‘I’ll contact you in two days with the details. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t try to run.’

He levelled a final, icy look at Orion. ‘Rivers will not be as lenient this time. Better watch your step.’

----------------------------------------

For a long five seconds after Jordan had left, it was quiet in the apartment. A careful, brittle, dread-filled quiet that none of them dared interrupt. Shallow, careful breaths that were hardly more audible than the traffic outside was through layers of wall and glass.

They sat next to each other on the couch, staring ahead at nothing, silent and tense. Five seconds after the door latch had clicked shut, Lilly spoke up, voice quiet and somehow small.

‘You said pizza.’

‘Yeah.’ Poison’s voice was louder. Sharper, too. ‘Not doughnuts. Pizza.’

“Doughnuts” was the code for a threat in the usual meeting place, the apartment. “Glazed doughnuts” would be a threat that couldn’t be handled without outside help and should be left alone for now. It fit some few specific situations, such as, say, one of Max Rivers’ hit-men in their apartment, armed and angry. It was the code Lilly and Poison would have expected, a little bit of warning before Lilly walking in on this mess.

Orion released the breath he’d been holding and felt panic surge up through the sudden lack of tension. Suppressed adrenaline and fear took hold of his muscles, shook him, opened his eyes into a wide-eyed stare.

Pizza. Because Jordan was beyond any threat when he was on a job. He was death and pain and no outside help could have saved them. A threat, you could do something against. Jordan, you could not. Unless you had another hit-man at your disposal, and even then it would have been a close call. Counter-killers weren’t very effective.

His shallow breaths became quick and agitated. They didn’t provide enough oxygen for his tensed and cramping muscles.

Jordan had been here. In the apartment.

Images rose up and flitted through his mind, taunting. His own face, younger, dirty. Max Rivers in a black suit, hands clasped behind his back. Jordan, grinning. That same grin on a bloodier face. An empty gun in Orion’s hands.

His own face again, older than before, dirty again, with hollow eyes as the mugshot was taken. A number. A hand on his shoulder, leaving bloody streaks.

‘Sixty-two!’

Orion flinched and knocked the sudden hand away from his shoulder. He glared at Poison, and she looked back at him with concern. The splash of colour that was her hair brought him partway back to reality. This was home. These were friends.

A faint mark on the side of Poison’s neck caught his attention, and he found himself in the half-hearted attempt to loosen up the tension that was crushing his chest. ‘Is that a hickey?’

Poison ignored the comment and looked straight into his eyes. ‘What’s going on?’

There was too much in that one question, so much he had buried and tried to forget. The time with Jordan, with Rivers, the things he had so desperately tried to distance himself from. He opened his mouth to respond without knowing where to start, and the tears came and took the decision from him. And Lilly and Poison were there.

They held him, both of them, on either side. For ten minutes or longer, until the sobs stopped shaking him and the tears had dried on his face. They held him after that, as he sat with an empty stare, no grudging pity or annoyance in the gesture, just calm concern. He was immensely grateful for that right now. It was more than he could have asked for, and still it was too little. It would take much more to alleviate the guilt, and more time. No easy way out this time. No running away, but facing what he had done.

When Orion spoke again, his voice was hoarse.

‘I never told you where I came from. What I did before I met Lilly. I just call that “before”.’

‘What Sixty-two means,’ Poison supplied. ‘Why Lilly calls you that when you act stupid.’

Orion smiled and something in him lifted a bit. ‘Okay. Let’s start with that.’ It was one of the easier things to tell. ‘As you may have guessed, I chose “Orion” some years ago, it’s not my given name. Sixty-two is. Sort of. It’s the one I grew up with, at least. There’s a certain layer of orphans and runaways that end up with Max Rivers. He takes them in, gives them a number, puts them through training. The program started with One and counted up. I was the sixty-second kid to partake.’

‘You grew up with Max Rivers?’ Lilly half-stood, then seemed to reign in his shock and sat back down, forcing patience into his voice. ‘Go on, please.’

‘I worked for Rivers until I turned eighteen. I should have “graduated” into his further service, but I left. Ran, actually. I’m only up and about because I managed not to come across him again in the last five years, and because getting rid of me is not worth the effort of tracking me down.’

The next part, the next question, would be hard. Very hard. And he knew it would be coming at some point. Lilly had said only a few days ago that he wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t hate Orion for what had happened years ago. Hopefully, that still held. As for Poison, it would be a question of luck.

‘What did you do for Rivers?’ Lilly’s voice was full of doubt and apprehension. He knew. Or suspected, at least. And of course, he would hate Orion. Couldn’t not hate him. He had made an easy promise without knowing the details, and now he would have to break it. Orion couldn’t meet his friend’s eyes.

‘I worked with Jordan,’ he said quietly. ‘Gathering intel, mostly.’

‘Jordan is a hit-man.’

Orion flinched and felt Poison’s hand tighten on his arm, but she didn’t comment, just listened for his answer.

‘I was a lure. I found out where they were going to be, and when. I drew away the guards I distracted the security personnel, I found ways inside. I chased the target towards the ambush point.’

‘You killed people.’

Orion flinched again. ‘Yes.’ His voice broke. ‘I didn’t handle the blade or the bullets, but yes.’

‘So you’re telling me you didn’t kill anyone with your own hands?’ Anger was rising in Lilly’s voice, fighting with control and a sliver of hope.

Orion didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t. With his own two hands…

The apartment fell silent again, and it was answer enough. Orion hoped they would say something, anything, and at the same time he was afraid of their words. They wouldn’t be understanding and nice. He wasn’t the victim of this story. He was at fault. Every time Lilly had to remind him by calling his old name, that proved his guilt, drove it deeper, and brought Orion back just a little bit. Made him shrink from what he could have become had he stayed with Rivers any longer.

And his friends wouldn’t forgive him, shouldn’t. They would leave. The words simply hadn’t been spoken out loud, but the message was clear. Lilly had given a promise he couldn’t hold. Hate was no choice, it happened. And they would hate Orion now. Getting up and leaving was a formality at this point, but he would have to endure it nonetheless.

‘What was your first job?’

Lilly’s voice was cold. Hard. Orion felt tears stinging his eyes again. Huh. He still had some left.

‘Lilly...’ Poison, trying to calm the situation, reacting to Orion’s distress. She hadn’t realised all of the implications yet, if she was still acting in his favour.

‘What was it?’ Lilly’s voice stayed cold. He understood. He knew.

‘I killed a girl,’ Orion choked out. He had to say it, had to get rid of it. But he wouldn’t. You didn’t get rid of a murder. The tears flowed freely again now, pinching his voice into a whine.

‘She was a hooker and she’d kept back payment and run off with a client. Rivers didn’t appreciate losing the client, or the girl. She was an easy first target, no experience on the run, no fighting skill. I got into her motel room and knifed her in the stomach while she slept.’

The girl’s shocked face loomed up, staring wide-eyed in surprise, fear, and pain. Orion shuddered. The whine died to a whisper.

‘I didn’t know it would hurt her so much, or take so long. She woke up and begged. I didn’t do anything, just stared. I should have slit her throat properly, made it quick, but I couldn’t move. I watched her bleed out.’

He saw her clawing at her stomach, the stained bedsheets. More fear and pain in her eyes, less surprise. Less fear of him, but of dying. His eyes had fixed on the knotted bracelet she wore even in bed, made of multiple, colourful strand of soft string. So silly and human, so normal.

Orion closed his eyes and hoped the blackness would swallow up the image of her accusing eyes. It didn’t. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

‘The cops found me sitting on the floor, covered in blood. I didn’t say anything, there was no witness, and I was a fifteen-year-old kid, so they kept me locally for questioning. I didn’t say anything the next day either, except “Orion”. Chose the name right then. Jordan broke me out of the holding cell on the second night, and Rivers decided not to make me kill again. Lure, instead. And I did it, for three more years.’

Long moments of silence. The story was done. Ugly and out in the light, and he didn’t feel any better for having told it.

They would leave now. Get up and go out and not return. Let him deal with his own mistakes, with Rivers and Jordan. He deserved it.

‘Why “Orion”?’, Poison asked softly.

The question surprised him. That was what she wanted to know? His stupid, childish name? Why had he chosen it anyway?

Nine, right. Nine had taken them stargazing once, a handful of kids piled around an older guy just before graduation. Orion had been somewhere around five years old. Nine had shown them the stars and taught them the constellations. He’d told stories about them.

How the bears were mother and son, how the mother had been transformed into a beast and the son had killed her by mistake.

The clusters of the Hyades and the Pleiades, each a group of sisters who, as some thought, brought rain.

And then there was Orion, the hunter, flanked by his hounds. Brave, strong, a hero.

Orion the hunter had been everything Sixty-two hadn’t been, that night with the hooker girl. Sixty-two had been a pathetic lump of nerves with a knife; no hunter, no predator. He had been a number in Max Rivers’ arsenal, dumbly following his orders. And he had hoped the name would change him, somehow.

A stupid, overly long story.

‘Just a story,’ he answered instead. ‘I decided to leave that night, and it took me three years to do it.’

He had stopped helping to kill, but he hadn’t really changed. How many people had died in the last five years because of his antics? How many guards had been executed, how many lives ruined because of information they had stolen and sold?

But those had been criminals, too. Guarding a warehouse full of smuggled girls was not exactly a legitimate job. Those people relied on incriminating intel, or worked for people who didn’t tolerate failure. That made it their own fault, in a way. Right?

The snide voice that answered in his head belonged to Jordan.

If you burn someone’s house, is it their fault for not fire-proofing it? Does that make it easier? Better? Not knowing how many people your actions kill? Is it worse? As a killer, at least you get to decide who suffers for you. Who gets to die. Or is it a relief that you don’t have the choose?

‘Okay.’

Orion looked up, confused. Poison was smiling at him, actually, genuinely smiling.

Lilly was just as shocked as him, apparently.

‘Okay? that’s all you have to say?’

Poison shrugged. ‘It’s done and passed.’

‘He killed people!’

‘So do we.’ Her voice was still kind, without doubts, without contempt. ‘Every time we break into some place, every time you sell the information we steal, someone gets hurt. Didn’t you realize your search for Michael would leave bodies?’

‘That’s different.’

‘You sure? Looks pretty similar to me. Because dead is dead in my book. Whether a guard dies or someone’s business goes bankrupt or you shoot a person in the face. One of those just has a harsher psychological impact. I don’t think I could shoot someone point blank, but that doesn’t make me any less of a killer. That’s the consequence of what we do.’

Lilly got up and crossed his arms. ‘I think killing someone by knife to the stomach-’, he cast a sharp glance at Orion, ‘- is different from selling information. They live or die with the consequences, that’s not my responsibility. And I don’t know if I can work with someone who stabbed a girl while she slept and couldn’t even spare her the pain when that didn’t finish her off.’

The words hit like slaps. Hard slaps. With a steel bar.

Poison stood, too, scowling now. ‘He was fifteen.’

‘And he didn’t stop then. He should have gotten out, run away sooner. If he couldn’t do it then, everything that happened after was his own fault!’

It was the wrong thing to say. Poison’s eyes turned cold, and the remnants of her calm patience vanished. ‘Out.’

Lilly stared at her. ‘What?’

‘Get out! Leave, or I’ll make you. Don’t dare come back for a few hours at least, and get yourself the fuck together.’

‘I-’

Poison grabbed Lilly by the arm and unceremoniously dragged him towards the door. His yelps of protest were abruptly cut off by the door slamming in his face when he was outside.

Orion curled in on himself. Poison was next to him again a moment later, laying her arms around him and pulling him close. Only as his body shook against hers did Orion realise he was crying again, crying and trembling in Poison’s steady embrace. She spoke to him, slowly, soothingly, and brushed a hand over his hair again and again, until the sobs subsided.