A Tale of Two Targets

Written by Dhananjay Gopal

Illustration by Sri Vishal Narlanka

Colin

I looked at the contact on my phone, and a feeling of dread ran down my spine. Liam and I were told to contact our boss, Harry, separately once the job was completed. I dialled and he picked up instantly.

“You can’t even hold up a couple of civilians without messing up, can you? You two buffoons have converted a simple burglary into a murder in my name,” Harry raged. I stood silently while a barrage of emotions ambushed my mind. I had never wanted this job, but I needed the money. I was just the accounts guy, trying to make ends meet with whatever amount Harry would spare us. 

“Now,” Harry continued, calm but menacing, “you need to be like Noel from Oasis here, break up your sweet little duet.”

“What are you getting at?” I asked.

“Don’t be thick you idiot; you know what I am getting at. You have broken the one principle I have had as a criminal and I am not taking the fall for your tomfoolery. The buck has to stop somewhere. Liam’s been slowing down for a while now, but you have a lot to give. So, you make sure that Liam never sings again.” I had seen Harry go to great lengths to get his way and stay out of the spotlight. Following him was my only option, else it was certain death. As I processed Harry’s orders, fear, guilt, and anger all swirling to turn my brain into a mush, Liam walked in. It looked like he was dressed for death, wearing black trousers, a black shirt, and black shoes, all enveloped by a black coat. However, his gold watch caught the measly light of the night, faintly sparkling in the darkness.

“You want to go for a walk?” he asked. His expression was anodyne but there was an uneasiness about him as he stood by the window in the cold, musty air of the apartment. I picked up my coat and we locked the door behind us.

It was a cool, breezy night, and a pale fog blanketed the empty street, shrouding it in a discomfiting stillness. Most of the streetlights stood dark, their bulbs long dead, while the few remaining cast weak, yellowish pools that barely pierced the haze. Houses lined the street, their windows dark, silent, and indifferent, as if they held their breath in anticipation. The trees along the sidewalks swayed gently, their branches scratching softly against each other. Amidst the eerie quiet, all I could think of was that kid’s body sprawled lifeless on the floor, a minuscule figure crumpled by the force of a single, brutal shot. Blood splattered across the kitchen walls like a violent mural, still fresh in my mind, while the mother’s screams echoed, sharp and raw, as she cowered in a corner, clutching at hope that was already lost. The shot still echoed in my ears, louder than anything I’d ever heard, mixing with the sound of the child’s high, terrified scream. And then, a deafening silence. My own hands were trembling uncontrollably. I couldn’t stop looking at them, at the fingers that had betrayed me, moving of their own accord, pulling the trigger without thought or reason.

“You didn’t mean to shoot her,” Liam said.

“I know I didn’t mean to,” I replied, “but I still feel like a knave. I am a knave, aren't I?”

"What's a knave?"

"You sure look rich for an illiterate bloke. How did you get that watch anyway?" 

"Nicked it off a hit, filthy rich, but a terrible guy," Liam said, “It makes me think, you know, I try to lead a good life as much as possible. But I have to reconcile with the fact that I have killed a few people. I tell myself they were bad people, but we aren’t saints either, are we?”

An awkward silence arose between us.

"So what is a knave?" Liam asked again.

"An unprincipled person, a rogue," I replied.

The tears welled up, hot and relentless. “It was my first job. I didn’t even need a gun, Liam. Now I have killed a child, and that is not going to go away, ever.”

The silence between us grew heavier as we continued walking, my heartbeat growing faster with each step. The weight of Harry’s orders bore down on me as I couldn’t escape the crushing realisation that I was about to commit another murder.

We saw a park up ahead and decided to perch under a lamp. It felt as desolate as the street we’d come from, a haunting tranquillity in the empty swings swaying gently in the breeze, their chains creaking like whispers in the quiet. Shadows stretched long and ominous across the cracked pathways, winding between patches of overgrown grass and scattered leaves that rustled faintly underfoot.

Liam

Colin’s face was ashen, his eyes wide and hollow, as if he was on the brink of a complete breakdown. He went off to the washroom as I took my seat. I had been doing jobs for Harry for a long time and never had he asked me to kill my partner. However, Colin had violated the single rule Harry had imposed on us during jobs: Do not kill children. “All you had to do was rob a small house. He can’t kill a child and walk away without any consequences,” Harry had said. Alone in the dim night, guilt gnawed at my insides. I flinched at the thought of killing Colin. I thought of not going through with it and facing up to Harry. I had given him all my good years, murdering and looting out of his fear until it had become an instinct. But I was tired of his manipulation and living in terror. I saw a flicker in the shadows and heard a faint rustle in the bushes but dismissed it as nocturnal wildlife. As I was contemplating, I turned around to the sound of footsteps to see Colin coming back, gun in hand.

Confusion and shock ran over me. Colin looked completely distraught. I could see his hands shaking as he took aim.

“What do you think you are doing man? Put the gun down!” I urged him.

“I am sorry Liam” Colin choked. “But I have to do this. It’s either you or me.”

He put his finger on the trigger, and this time it looked intentional. I was ready to face the eventuality, my discomposure turning to an uncanny calm. My pulse slowed as if my body had accepted the grim inevitability before my mind did. Strangely, I felt a sense of release as I stood there facing the once vibrant swings and slides. After years of shadowy jobs and dark corners, my life, twisted and worn, finally felt as though it had reached its climax, a hollow calm settling over me like a weight lifted. But then I sensed some movement out of the corner of my eye. I saw a silhouette emerging from the shadows and slam into Colin from the bushes, the gun slipping from his grasp as he hit the dirt. “You alright there?” the man asked me as he frisked a subdued Colin.

“Now that I have saved your life give me that beautiful watch of yours.”

I stood stupefied for a few seconds before snapping back to consciousness. I told him, “You have not read the room correctly, my friend. Walk away before things get awry.” I moved towards the man slowly. He started panicking and drew his knife. “Now don’t you move another step! Give me that watch, and we will all be out of here merry and bright.” 

I explained, “You have gotten me at a time when I am questioning my principles. But trust me, pointing that knife makes my job much easier. I’ll warn you again, walk away before things go south.”

“Enough fooling around now,” the intruder shouted, “give it to me unless you want me to pry it out of your hands."

At that moment, a chilling thought struck me. I realised that we weren’t any different from the intruder - aimlessly wandering through life, using violence to earn money, fighting for survival. I looked at him and saw the same desperation in his eyes that had once haunted me in the mirror. The lines between us blurred; each of us was just another face in the crowd, trading morality for survival, slipping further into the shadows with every choice. My resolve to spare Colin wavered, overshadowed by the harsh reality of our existence.

“Alright, you asked for it.”

Our eyes locked and I unleashed a furious kick to knock the intruder off his feet. Colin picked up his gun and pointed it at the intruder. “Now you bugger off unless you want a 9 mm hole in your head.”

As the intruder, clearly shook, scurried away, I felt resentment at the thought of Colin’s betrayal. I turned to him, my voice steely, “you were going to kill me, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know, I cannot think straight man! I didn’t want to do this Liam, but Harry asked me to kill you, and I cannot go against Harry can I?” Colin cried in distress.

“Well, he gave me the same order.” I replied stoically.

“What?”

“Now that I know your position on the subject, my task is simpler.” I lifted my gun to Colin’s forehead.

Colin

I couldn't conjure up the strength to point my own gun at Liam again. He continued softly, his gaze cold but steady, “I really wasn’t going to kill you, Colin. I thought I might send you off somewhere and tell Harry you escaped, or just stand up to him and work something out. I thought you deserved a second chance. How unfortunate that guilt only made you worse.”

Tears streamed down my face as I stared down the barrel. I had become the very monster I had condemned all this while, one willing to kill to survive. The dim park around us felt like a graveyard, shrouded in shadows that seemed to press in, amplifying the bitter chill in the air. I could see the girl shouting with glee on the slide or riding the swings. I felt it all crumbling around me as we faced off in the unsettling serenity. There was no coming back from what I had done and intended. In a final act of desperation, I started lifting my gun to my temple, determined to seal my own fate. I saw Liam’s finger reach for the trigger. He probably thought I was going to shoot him. Then I saw the flash, brief but blinding.

Liam 

I saw Colin raising his gun and felt my grip tighten, impulsively wrapping my finger around the trigger. I hesitated for a moment; my finger twitched, hoping to avoid the heinous act I was committing. Then I fired the bullet which ended this saga. As I stood over Colin's body, the blood colouring the ground a deep scarlet, I grasped the futility of the situation. Colin, once my partner in this twisted life, was now just another casualty in Harry’s web of manipulation. And yet, as I looked down at what I’d done, I realised I was just as caught in that web, a cog in the machine grinding forward without purpose or redemption. There was no escape, no honour among thieves, no reward at the end of the line—just the constant, consuming need to survive, to outrun death for one more day. We were trapped in this cycle of violence, feeding the very monster that threatened to consume us. In the pursuit of life, I had unwittingly forfeited my soul, just as Colin had.