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Slowly lowering the phone from my ear, I stared at it unseeingly, mind racing as I tried desperately to come up with another way to help. Nothing, I was a complete blank. A quick glance was enough to ascertain that the man to which she was referring was in the throes of what appeared to be a heart attack. He had toppled out of his chair, there was no movement from the man on the ground by the time I knelt beside him.
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Title Page
Pulsating Lines
Turning Point
Jeremy McHarry
Pulsating Lines / 3rd of series: Turning Point / By Jeremy McHarry
Published 2023 by Bentockiz
e-book Imprint: Uniochlors
e-book Registration: Stockholm, Sweden
e-book ISBN: 9789198834192
e-book editing: Athens, Greece
Cover Images created via AI art generators
Table of Contents
Title Page
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Introduction
Through books we come into contact with everything important that has happened in the past, analyzing also current events and putting our thoughts together to predict the future. The book is a window to the world, acquiring valuable knowledge and sparking our vivid imagination. It is a means of entertainment and is generally seen as a best friend, or as a slave that carries together all valuable information for us. The book is a friend who stays together without demands, a friend you call upon at every moment and abandon when you want.
It accompanies us in the hours of boredom and loneliness, while at the same time it entertains us. In general, a book does not ask anything from us, while it waits patiently on a dusty shelf to give us its information, to get us out of dead ends and to travel us to magical worlds.
This may be the travel mission of our books. Abstract narration, weird or unconscious thoughts difficult to be understood, but always genuine and full of life experiences, these are stories of life that can’t be overlooked easily.
Chapter One
I stared glumly at the gun in my hand, not debating the decision, merely the method of dispatch.
Perhaps Russian roulette; at least that way I wouldn’t know when it was coming preventing my highly trained survival instincts from kicking in at the last minute, putting a damper on the whole proceeding.
Or maybe I wouldn’t use a gun. After all, it wasn’t the only option.
There was always hanging, but even though I wasn’t exactly vain, I didn’t want to look that bad when my body was discovered. At least I was an expert marksman, and could place a bullet exactly where I wanted it.
I’d heard that women generally preferred less violent methods of suicide, but none of those appealed to me either.
Overdosing seemed like such a sissy way out and there was always the chance that it might take too long for the drugs to do the job. I had to make sure no one would have time to revive me.
I could slit my wrists, but that didn’t strike me as being non-violent...it actually sounded like an extremely slow and painful way to go.
If I had any guts, I’d simply put the gun to my head and pull the trigger.
I disgusted myself.
The unexpected knock at the door startled me, causing me to lose my grip on the gun, and I panicked as it clattered to the floor afraid it would accidentally go off...unsure whether I’d left the safety on. I wasn’t worried that it might kill me; I was worried it wouldn’t kill me and the noise would have the neighbors calling the police. Or worse still...it could hurt someone else.
Gingerly picking my Glock up off the floor and tucking it securely under a couch cushion, I reluctantly moved to the door and peered through the peephole. I sighed quietly in resignation.
“I know you’re in there, Al,” the low voice was barely audible through the door, but there was no doubt anywhere in it that the owner knew I was listening. “You probably recall how I treat locked doors. I’d hate for you to have to spend unnecessary money replacing it.”
I could hear the hint of amusement in the voice.
“It’s not locked,” I called as I turned back towards the couch.
Why bother with locks when I wasn’t planning to be around long enough to care if someone broke in and stole everything I owned. They could have my stuff...all of it...I had no one to leave it to.
The door opened, and I eyed the intruder malevolently as he closed it behind him.
“Not answering your phone is considered quite rude in some circles,” he noted.
“Obviously, I don’t travel in those circles.”
“Al...”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to talk to an old friend...?”
“We don’t have friends. Garnet doesn’t approve.”
“Have you ever known me to care what Garnet thinks?”
“What do you want, Jake? I have things to do.”
“Hmm...that’s not what I heard.”
“So I guess you know.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Well, yeah, but not so...” I bit my lip, afraid I’d given too much away.
“...soon?” he finished for me. “Why would that matter, Al?”
“Just go away and leave me alone. What I do is none of your business.”
“Why did you quit?”
“It was way past time, don’t you think?”
“I wasn’t referring to the job...why did you quit counseling? Garnet said he’d...”
“...sent me to a shrink...? Did he tell you I’m a head case?”
“It was your first one, Al, there were bound to be...ramifications.”
He was wrong, but I wasn’t going to enlighten him. Garnet was the only one who knew, and he would never tell anyone else unless it gained him some type of advantage.
“Yeah, ramifications...because I wasn’t good enough...you always warned me that I might not be able to handle it, but I thought...”
I turned away to hide the unwelcome tears pooling in my eyes, hating any show of weakness.
“I never said you weren’t good enough, Al, simply pointed out that your hardened exterior was just that...an exterior. You may have had everyone else fooled with your tough talk, but I recognized it for what it was. I was...concerned...about what the job would do to you.”
“Well apparently you were right. I should have quit...no I should have never taken it in the first place. I sucked. I suck at everything.”
“If you sucked at everything, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Beginner’s luck,” I scowled.
“I can see nothing else is going to work with you, so let’s deal with the plain, cold, hard facts, shall we? You were trained to kill and that’s what you did...you made a kill. I’m just surprised you managed to avoid it for so many years.”
I flinched. He either missed it or chose to ignore it as he continued.
“Now you have to find a way to deal with it and move on. It’s not an easy thing to live with...I know, I do it every single day, and not just one kill, but...well...you’ve read my books...the numbers are sadly only slightly exaggerated. But I do live with it. Truth be told, I would kill again if Allison or one of her kids were threatened and I had no other viable option, just as you were forced to do in order to stop Fairchild, but I will never go back to the cold-blooded killing machine I allowed Garnet to create. That is what I have to live with...the knowledge that I basically killed for expediency’s sake because it was government sanctioned. You, however, killed because you had no other choice. You can learn to live with that.”
“I don’t even know how to start,” I whispered in anguish, admitting silently to myself that I was referring to more than Jake realized.
I didn’t know how to accept my past; any of it. I’d run from it for so long that it had grown into a monster I could no longer keep contained. The monster was totally out of control...and so was I.
“I don’t have all the answers,” he admitted “but I do know that this isn’t the answer to anything.”
Reaching under the cushion, he fished around and brought out my Glock.
“How did you...?”
“I’ve been around a long time, Al, and I recognized the signs. What you’re going through isn’t new, but it’s worse with our particular agency because Garnet only chooses those of us with no family, which means we have to deal with everything alone without any type of support system.”
“Except for Shun...”
“Except for Shun,” Jake grimaced. “I still give Garnet hell for that every chance I get.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to use that kind of language anymore,” I admonished him.
“Allison’s not here, and I’ve been suffering withdrawal. If you promise not to squeal on me, I’ll keep your secret...along with your gun,” he said as he tucked it into the top of his black jeans, hiding it under his suede jacket.
“Jake...” I began, shaking my head helplessly.
“Go pack a bag,” he ordered, “but not the one with the false bottom. You won’t be hiding anything from me.”
“Where...?”
“Allison has kindly extended an invitation for you to spend some time with us.”
“Jake...”
“And I’ve been instructed that ‘no’ is not an option.”
“I don’t think...”
“Great, because you’re not allowed to think...now, go pack,” and at my mutinous expression he added, “you do have friends, Al, and for some odd reason Allison seems to think you hung the moon. Something to do with you saving the life of someone she, irrationally, loves.”
“You’re referring to Buckshot of course.”
“She’d be crushed if you were to do something stupid like...say...kill yourself,” he continued, ignoring my weak attempt at humor.
“I’m not worth it, Jake,” I could feel my chin and lower lip trembling, and I struggled to suppress it. “I haven’t been in a long time.”
“You’re wrong, you know,” he contradicted with more tenderness than I’d ever thought possible of him, “and I want your solemn promise that you’ll give Allison and me the chance to prove it to you. Believe it or not, I care about you.”
