Hider/Seeker (28 page)

‘Rest assured, their names are not on the contract,' replied Ernesto, becoming lost in thought again. There was confusion in his eyes and then the mist lifted. ‘Can you throw me your pillow?'

Harry tossed it over to Ernesto who placed it on his knees as he edged forward in the armchair.

‘I don't have, what do you call it? To stop the bang.'

‘Suppressor.'

‘Suppressor,' he repeated with a thoughtful nod. His breathing became erratic again and the wheezing returned. He couldn't hold his grip on the gun and it fell to the floor.

Harry could have sent the automatic spinning across the floor with just one kick. But instead, he watched Ernesto bend down to recover the gun, coughing and spluttering.

The old man sat straight again, recovering his composure. ‘Why didn't you take the gun from me when you had a chance?' he asked with a look of mystification while pointing the automatic at Harry again. Then the answer came to him. ‘Wait, wait, wait; you're doing this to save her?'

No reply.

‘But I've already told you,' continued Ernesto, ‘their names aren't on the contract.' He began to ponder and then it came to him. ‘While you're around, she's never going to be safe. That's it, isn't it?' he said, his hand shaking as he held the gun.

No reply.

The silence between them grew while Ernesto considered what he had to do next. He wrapped the pillow around the gun and held it tight. Conflict was stirring inside of him as his finger put pressure on the trigger. He couldn't miss at that range. But then something came to him, and his eyes grew slowly brighter as if he'd finally found peace within himself. ‘I still love Gabriela,' he said, loosening his trigger finger. ‘You were right about that. But it's too late to make her understand what she really means to me. I gave her my love, my way, and she always accepted it. It's too late to make it right; too late,' said Ernesto, pausing a moment to gather himself. ‘I hope you understand that this is now the only way out for me.'

There was no response from Harry.

‘Turn over on your stomach,' said Ernesto, ‘I don't want to look at your eyes anymore.'

Harry rolled over, thinking his last vision on earth would be of the candy coloured stripes of the cotton sheets. His last smell, his own musky body and sweat. Then, he thought of Bethany and their first kiss alongside the River Taff, her lips of salt and vinegar. They ate and sung their hearts out that happy cold night. The first kiss is immortal.

BANG.

Ernesto dropped the gun to the floor as he remained bolt upright in the armchair, his good eye wide open with surprise, his brain tissue on the wall opposite.

Harry turned around and saw his friend staring at him, lifeless. If he didn't know Ernesto better, it looked as if his face had a smile, one he would later describe to Bethany in great detail.