Section II.II The Chisel, Hammer, and Rubber Mallet

Megan glances at the spot. There's still blood smears on the hardwood floor I couldn't mop up. Chunks and droplets I missed. She looks at the holes in the wall where the bullets landed. They went straight through him.

"He was alone?" She asks, her voice an octave too high as she forces too much air through her throat. The thought is making her giddy.

"I did a perimeter check and sent the drone up, we've not seen anybody," Rippy replies with a shrug, "Kevin is supposed to be on guard." They both look at me.

"I brought Megan in," I reply dumbly. My hands are still shaking.

"Yes, and thank you. Now you should get back to guard duty," She replies softly. She's been accepted as de facto leader as long as she keeps Rippy in check.

Rippy looks at me too, I can't read him. I always just assume disappointment and anger.

If Megan is the chisel, Rippy is the hammer. Megan leads with humanity and Rippy effeciency. We follow Megan because she cares. We follow Rippy because he's right.

I give a curt nod and turn on my heels, my face is heating up. I'm flustered. I just killed a man and they dismissed me like a child.

I freeze. My muscles are tight, my entire body tense and ready for a fight. Anger boils up inside me as I become dangerously aware of the heavy rifle slung over my shoulder.

"What about the others?" My voice sounds far away, from the far side of a long and narrow tunnel. Someone else's voice falling on my ears. The words are devoid of any emotion, completely empty. I can hear the decisiveness in her reply.

"I'll bring them in."

"I need time to myself."

"You're getting time to yourself."

"No, I'm getting a job. I need to breathe."

"I'll send someone to relieve you once we're settled."

"Kevin," Rippy interjects, ice cold, "Not now."

I'm still not facing them. They can't see the murder in my eyes. The burning, murderous fury of someone who just blew holes through a man and chucked him into a closet.

Then the battle clarity comes. My hands stop shaking and my muscles relax. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I watch, in my mind's eye, small chunks of flesh scatter from the man's back and litter the hardwood floor. It's what had to be done then and this is what has to be done now.