Cactus Water (6-8-18)

[WP] “You’re the 12th assassin we’ve had to send in this year. Try not to get killed.” Their hands traced over the file. “It’s a kid.” [Link to post.]

“Next time start with me,” Thorne said. He admired the picture of the 14 year old girl. Her creamy, light brown skin contrasted nicely with her long, straight, dark brown hair. “Especially for someone like her.” He put the picture in the breast pocket of his cactus green suit, and tossed the rest of the file on the desk. 

“Frankly, we hate you. You’re sick, but we’re out of options,” Lauro Ortega spoke from behind his bulky cherry wood desk. He tossed a bulging letter envelope on the table. “In fact we’d prefer you not have to come back for your payment. We’ll contact you if we ever need you again.” Thorne leaned forward in his seat and opened the envelope. He counted through it, then pulled out a single $100 bill and tossed the envelope back. 

“Dinner,” he said with a smile while he stuffed the bill into his suit pocket. “Pretty girl like that, it’ll be my pleasure.” He stood, straightened his suit and left the CEOs office. In the elevator Thorne checked his watch, 6:30p.m., and planned his evening. The mark lived in town. He decided to drive by her home for a quick look on his way to dinner, and plan out the details then. 

Thorne turned into a lower class neighborhood and slowed down. He checked the house numbers as he drove down the almost one lane street. The houses sat crowded close together and everyone was home in the evening; their cars lined the sides of the road. At the end of the block he noticed his target standing on her lawn talking to two other people. A woman in a purple and gold hoodie and a short man in a white suit sporting a blue mohawk.

Lucky me,” he thought to himself with a smile. He slowed more as he approached the house and stopped in front of it. He rolled the window down and called out to the trio. 

“Hello! Sorry to bother you, but I’m a bit lost.” He gave them his practiced “friendly” smile. The three approached his car, the woman in the hoodie stood in front of the other two.

“We’ll help if we can, but we’re not from here either,” she said. She gave a crooked smile and a shrug. 

“None of you?” he asked, deliberately eyeing the young brown skinned girl. The woman nodded. 

“Yeah,” she said.

“Sorry, I just assumed, since you were standing around talking,” Thorne said, he realized where his eyes were focused and moved them to the young woman. He found them staring at him with a stern face and glowing golden eyes.

“Do you need help, or not?” the woman asked curtly. He smiled and returned her gaze, his own eyes began to emit the same golden light. Black needle like thorns began to emerge from his face and out of his green suit.

“No.” He turned off the car and moved to get out. “But I think I found some fun,” he said. He had the door half open when she kicked it shut again, almost catching his leg. He managed to move fast enough to pull it back.

“You’re outclassed,” she said and nodded her head backward to her left at the blue mohawk. The short man’s eyes began to glow gold also. “Go home 39.” Her last remark took the light from Thorne’s eyes. His jaw dropped.

“Wh.. what’d you call me?” he asked. No one knew about the cactus tattoo in the shape of the number 39 on the bottom of his foot. The light in her eyes dimmed, and she burst into laughter.

“You don’t know what you are?” she laughed harder, the other two joined her with their own chuckles. She leaned forward and rested her black and gold gloved hands on the open window. The woman moved without a sound, or seemingly any effort; then, took a step back still holding it. Thorne realized she held his car door in her hands. She tossed the removed door on the girl’s lawn. “Like I said, outclassed. Leave. Do not come back.”

Thorne turned the ignition and drove away wondering what to eat for dinner.

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