It was late, almost three in the morning, and in the dark a large black Hummer sat idling in front of a middle-sized apartment building. Sitting in the truck, nervously tapping on the steering wheel, Kim Howard leaned forward to look out the windshield at the window of one of the 4th floor apartments.
"Hurry the hell up, guy," he muttered, moving his hands to fiddle with the radio while in the back seat the reporter, Alex, jotted something down onto a sheet of yellow notebook paper.
"He'll be out shortly," Alex said, trying to reassure the tense professional killer in the driver's seat, "Just give it a couple more minutes."
It had been a long night up to that point, and in lieu of snapping at his friend he instead chose to remain silent, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes. There were here to gather some of Ethan's crap before hitting the road. They were on the run, each of them having had encounters with things that were beyond possibility, and they had apparently attracted some attention as a result.
Kim growled impatiently, pushing his long black hair out of his face, "I can't take this anymore," he said, "I'm going to get him." He checked to make sure the gun in his lap was loaded for the fifteenth time since they had parked, and made to open the door when Alex tapped him on the shoulder and pointed.
"Look," he said, as Ethan made his way towards the car, waving one hand. The other had a large satchel in it, probably filled with a bunch of his personal effects. Kim set the gun back down and gripped the steering wheel as Ethan got back into he passenger seat.
"Sorry," Ethan said, straightening the gear on his lap while Kim started the car back up, "I really didn't want to leave any of this behind."
Before either Kim or Alex could say a word, the windows of the fourth floor shattered and blossomed with flames as a massive explosion ripped through the building. The three men could feel the concussion of the blast in their chests as debris began to fall around them.
The hitman's thoughts moved quickly, going over everything that had happened that night in an instant. Ethan's apartment was just blown to pieces, each of them had been attacked that night in places where only the three of them frequented, and Kim's only worldly possession was the Hummer that they now sat in.
"Fuck," he said, quickly opening the door to the Hummer and rolling out. Alex and Ethan looked around, still surprised by the explosion, but didn't move.
"What?" Alex managed to mutter right before the truck exploded in a ball of flame. Kim rolled onto his back, his eyes wide with horror as he looked at the conflagration that had, until a moment ago, been his only home and his only two friends.
"FUCK!" he shouted, and slammed his fists against the concrete until they began to bleed.
* * * *
Across the street, hidden in an alley, James Garrett shook his head. This wasn't how this was supposed to go down. They weren't ready yet, they didn't know the full extent of the evil that surrounded them. He dropped his cigarette, grinding it into the pavement with the tip of his cowboy boot, and then cracked his knuckles. This was going to hurt.
A lot.
* * * *
Time stopped, congealing around the building, the burning hunks of steel, and the distraught assassin in the middle of the street. Without knowing why, Kim found himself standing up, watched as the blood on the pavement ran in rivers back onto, and then into, his hands. He watched as the skin closed back up, even as he went through the motions of slamming them to the ground again, this time in reverse. He hardly noticed when his mind began to rewind similarly.
* * * *
The hitman's thoughts moved quickly, going over everything that had happened that night in an instant. Ethan's apartment was just blown to pieces, each of them had been attacked that night in places where only the three of them frequented, and Kim's only worldly possession was the Hummer that they now sat in.
"Fuck," he said, quickly opening the door to the Hummer, but he stopped for a fraction of a second to turn back to the others. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like it was the right thing to do.
"Get out!," he shouted, diving out of the truck quickly, "Bomb!"
The others registered the imperative, and moved their asses, rolling out of the Hummer just in time for it to go up in a massive blast of flame. Ethan was thrown a few feet, his shirt catching on fire, and Alex slammed his head on the pavement in his attempt to dive out of the way, but in the end the three of them were alive.
Kim moved over quickly to put out Ethan's shirt, and for reasons he couldn't quite grasp, he looked up towards the alleyway. Slowly, clapping his hands like a comic book super villain, a man dressed head to toe like something from an old Western movie approached them from the darkness. Kim noticed immediately that he had twin trails of blood running from his nostrils.
"Good evening, boys," he said, his voice not even remotely matching his outfit, "I think it's time I finally introduced myself."
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