Vagabond Faces: Motion Minus Speed

Motion minus Speed

Prologue

Vince's sweaty nine-year-old hands struggled to keep a hold of the rifle. He stared at the grazing deer ahead with wide eyes, the fact it had no idea what was coming wrenching in his stomach.

"You got a clean shot?" his father whispered in his ear. The boy shook his head no, but his father knew better. "Good, then take him."

Vince thought about this for a moment then his heart skipped a beat and his mouth went dry.

"Go on, shoot it. You want something to show off to that girl at the lodge don't ya'?" The mention of Sylvia made him lose his grip. He leaned forward and brought the rifle back. It was at least three times to long for him to be shooting. He turned his head to look at his father who was smiling back at him.

"You've got my reflexes. Now take him. He's starting to walk away."

Vince smiled and brought the sight back to his eye. He followed the buck slowly as he walked, cross-hair aimed to the chest. His prey turned toward him and continued walking at a lazy pace. He rubbed his index finger across the trigger, reluctant to take the shot. Sylvia would be impressed, and the guys at the lodge would probably let him stay up late and listen to their jokes he couldn't understand. Just take him. He's only a deer. Only a deer... only a-

His father stirred. "Shoot him!" Vince panicked and did, the crack of the gun deafened his ears and he fell back from the recoil. The forest was dead still and he was staring up at the leafless tree limbs. A chill ran up and down his body. His father stood over him with a grin on his face the size of Kansas. He bent over to help his son to his feet.

"Good job son."

Vince looked desperately for the deer as he felt the dirt being brushed off his back. In the distance he saw it twitching as its nerves died off. The brushing ceased, an arm went around his shoulder, and his father pointed ahead.

"There he is. Next time let's see if we can shoot him without falling back two feet huh?"

Vince looked ahead, back to his father who stroked his mustache with his other hand, then to the buck again. He could barely breathe.

"Good thing you're scared of the stand," his father said massaging his shoulder.

He breathed a little easier and felt a tingle run through his arm. Sylvia's going to be proud of me.

19 Years Later

The rain had a sting colder than Satan's heart. The mood darker than the starless sky. A man crouches behind a dumpster. Gun grasped in both hands and listening to the conversation just outside the alley. Trench coat soaked, rain rolling off his fedora, he waits and resists reaching into his pocket and getting a cigarette.

A car door slammed and Vince tightened his grip on the Walther handgun. There was a low chuckle from whoever stayed behind and was making his way. The clink of his lighter opening echoed through the alley, then the hissing sound of the flame. His footsteps were slow and uneven against the brick ground that was riddled with puddles. Vince, the bounty hunter, smiled.

The man wore an expensive suit. Tie undone and jacket over his shoulder. With a cigarette in his other hand he strolled down the alley without a care in the world. Vince was invisible hiding behind the dumpster with his black trench coat and fedora. Careful not to make any noise he stood up and aimed his gun at the man's head.

His prey stopped and stood dead still. He dropped his cigarette and turned around, long white hair clearly visible through the darkness. His handsome but stern face was highlighted by the shadows and dim light from the city street. If he was alarmed Vince wouldn't know.

"Old friends make the worst enemies. Don't they Xavier?" Vince said.

Vince's old friend spoke in a deep raspy voice, taking time to punctuate each word so he was understood. "You're hopeless." Xavier took a few steps forward. "Think you're so damn smart don't you?" He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a detonator and held it to his side. His last "s" rolled off his tongue and his voice trailed off. "I guess you're looking for this?"

"No, just you."

Xavier cocked his head and smiled. "You're always full of surprises, aren't you Vince?"

"Yeah." Vince put three bullets into his chest. The smoke from each shot mixed with the darkness and floated away as forgotten dreams.

Xavier fell into a puddle and splashed water onto the alley wall. The detonator lay next to his foot.