6 - Tracker

“After a pitch black night...”

“I’m scared to trust the stars to guide me again.”

Jackal laid on the rooftop of a skyscraper. The White House was almost completely destroyed, its yard littered with the corpses of many brave soldiers that tried to stop the shadow manipulator.

“Q’s on his way.” He thought, after looking at his phone. The screen had a map loaded on it on which a certain red dot was being tracked with intense precision.

“After Yuta...”

“Can I even trust him?”

He stared at his shadow-engulfed hand. He briefly saw his reflection in it, a younger version of him. He looked at him with discomfort in his eyes, the kid looked back at him disappointed.

“Just gotta keep going. No looking back, no regrets. He’ll be happy that way.”

“Sakuto Hitori must be on his way to D.C..”

“I wonder if I’m right. I could sense selfishness emanating from his soul.”

“What is wrong with him, huh?” Terry asked back. “I thought you’d see it for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we first found Jackal, he didn’t even have that name. Aunt Jas found him on a sidewalk. He only had a dirty white shirt on, I think he was around four or five years old at that time. He looked dirty, wounded. Like a dog on the street. She checked up on him. He wasn’t crying or complaining, he didn’t ask for mommy or daddy. He just wanted food.”

“And that’s when he joined the crew, right?”

“Before that, he was in an orphanage. But even there, he was no different from how he is now. I heard the teacher was scared that he would stab her in her sleep because she refused to let him go out. His hatred for everything was hammered into his head at that age. He lived in a dirty place, among kids who knew no better, raised by a teacher that didn’t care for them at all. Especially in our home district, which really isn’t the best or safest place ever.”

“Right.” Q nodded. He looked straight forward, still unable to recover from the news. The road was fading into an unrecognizable gray line, the cars became dots, fading in and out of existence.

“Jackal first killed someone when he was six years old. I remember it, fool. It’s almost as if he had no natural instinct preventing him from taking a man’s life. He didn’t know about the concept of safety, compassion, humanity...damn kid was forsaken by all the gods.”

“It was a thug from the lower street, right? You told me this story before, uncle. He tried to backdoor B Bag, and Jackal stabbed him.”

“I’ve shot people, Quinton.” Terry sighed. “You know damn well how life is in the streets. When I was active, I had to shoot a lot. If I didn’t, the man in front of me would take my life before I took his. But shooting a gun is much easier than stabbing someone. You just pull the trigger, the bullet flies out, hits them at a range...you can even turn around after you shoot and holla at your friends. You ain’t even gotta see the bullet hit the target, mane.”

“But Jackal, he stabbed him. He told me what happened. Thug crept into the house, he introduced himself as a relative. And Jackal didn’t trust him.”

“He always had his intuition, huh?”

“It wasn’t intuition. He saw people get shot by their brothers, fathers and even mothers. Besides, he always acted like the selfish type.” Terry continued. “He lied to that thug. He pretended that he knew nothing. And once he was distracted, once he started creeping towards B Bag’s bed, Jackal stabbed him in the stomach, man. Bleedin’ out on the ground while being stabbed...that’s a tough way to go out.”

“B Bag obviously heard the screams and got up. Jackal kept on attacking the thug, somehow overpowering him. B Bag let him get the kill. Jackal ain’t even blinked before grabbing the thug’s trench coat and putting it on. He had no remorse or hesitation on his face. Even B Bag, an OG and a killer, got scared. He didn’t look like a boy anymore. When Aunt Jas heard about it, she felt sad, man. She almost cried.”

“And that’s why he’s so adept at killing now?” Q asked.

“He sees no problem with it. The way he acted after that...he started harming anyone that threatened him or us, he turned small fights into bloodbaths...all of that with a calm face, and even excitement. One day, I remember, Aunt Jas asked him about it. He was around fourteen at that time. He just told her that he did what he wanted. He saw no other way.”

“I got close to him when he was thirteen, at around that time. When my dad got sent to jail, I got close to you, and as a result, him.” Q said. ”He lived like he had nothing to lose, but made choices like he cared about others.”

“He does care about us.” Terry said. “Especially you, Quinton.”

“Huh? Me?”

“You’re the only brotha he has who he can call a friend, Quinton.” Terry said. “Right now, you’re probably the only brotha he trust. He holds a special type of love for you, y’know that?”

“Yeah...and I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” Q said. His eyes even teared up a little. “Ever since he gained his powers, it’s like, they enabled his behaviour and let him get away with doing all the bullshit that’s on his mind.”

“I understand you, man. I do.”

“I wanted a normal life, uncle Terry.” Q said. “I was doing just fine in school. I thought I’d graduate and try to find a job, maybe I’d get into business management or somethin’ and eventually make my own business. I wanted to hit it big and get you out of that street! I wanted you guys to live in a good part of the city, man. That included Jackal too. And dad too, I was gonna try and bail him outta jail!”

“Quinton, you do understand what I said though, right?” Terry said. “You’re his only friend. And even you’re unable to understand him.”

“I don’t even know what there is to understand!” Q said. “Why didn’t he choose to go to school with me? We would’ve been in high school together, doing math and English homework instead of killing the fucking president.”

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“He was ashamed of himself.” Terry sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“He saw everyone else play games, watch cartoons or tv shows, hang out together, talk about things he never knew...he knew he couldn’t do anything to change himself, he couldn’t be accepted in their environment. It made him think that he was alone, and it made him consume himself. And now...he’s...who he is.”

“Don’t get started on that bullshit, uncle. You think he’d be a good person if he had a friend or two?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Terry said. “Every kid wants to have friends.”

The words struck Q hard.

“Even if he’s not a little gremlin now, even if he’s an adolescent...he’s still a kid. He’s doing all this selfish stuff so he can relate to that little kid. So that the kid inside of him doesn’t feel alone.”

“I can’t do this anymore, uncle.” Q said. “Every other time he goes on a rampage, I almost die. I don’t want to be dragged into a deadly situation just because some psychopath wants friends. I have my own life too. Who, if not me, is going to make it out the streets and get you out of that dump?”

“Don’t disrespect your household like that.”

“I’m being honest!” Q exclaimed. “I see this life for what it is, and I hate it, I hate that I can’t escape it or at least try to make it better, and I hate how it changed. I’m scared of Jackal.”

“Huh?” Terry looked at Q. A silence ensued.

“I’m scared of him. I...don’t want to be with him. I can’t predict what he will do next, I don’t...want to die because of him, uncle.” Q said, wiping his eyes, making sure his tears aren’t seen. “Are you still sure you wanna keep driving? That you wanna do as he said?”

“Ye.” Terry said. “I don’t want to betray nobody.”

“Even if you risk dying? W-what about Aunt Jas? Or anyone else back home?”

“They would’ve done the same, man.” Terry said. “What our life, or my life specifically has taught me, is that loyalty is everything. Aunt Jas would kill me if she found out I backed down from helping little boy Jackal out.”

“I guess you’re right.” Q sighed. “We have no other option...but, I’m gonna help him for a different reason. I want to get him out of his own dump too. I want to...help him change. For myself and for himself.”

“It’s not like I hate Jackal.”

“He shoved me through some horrendous shit. I had to help him kill and destroy. But at the same time, I also considered him a friend.”

“I just don’t want him to keep destroying himself like this.”

“Maybe there’s a way to fix him...”

“I don’t want him to keep destroying himself.” Q said. “That’s why I’ll stay on his side. He deserves better. He had no choice as a kid, but he has a choice now.”

“Hah...I think I get it now.” Terry said. “He needs a reason to live other than himself and his endeavors.”

[SEPTEMBER 28TH, 4:00PM. WASHINGTON, D.C.]

“Hey, uncle, can we grab a bite?” Q asked. “We’re at the motel anyways, right?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Dunno, anything fast food can work. Maybe a burger, or some chicken would be nice too...damn, I already miss the chicken Aunt Jas makes.” Q replied.

“You gotta find a place to sit first. D.C. is full of soldiers and one thing you gotta know about them, I’m telling you, they’re always hungry. They’re all after our shadow boy.” Terry laughed.

“I’m surprised you even went to the army in the first place. I mean, sure, it got you out of the streets for a while but...really?”

“Why the hell not? I felt fresh and alive. Plus, a man’s gotta know how to defend things.” Terry said. “You never know, you feel me?”

They left their car by the entrance of a small Mexican food spot. Going inside, nothing seemed out of the ordinary for them. They sat down by one of the seats by the windows, curiously glancing at the menu.

“Thanks for getting me here. What are you gonna do now?” Q asked.

“Probably hang around you two, see how I can help.” Terry sighed. “I’ll make sure nothing too awful happens to-” His attention was quickly captured by something else. A policeman entered the building and approached him.

“The gray four-seater is yours, isn’t it?” The policeman asked. He held a strange device in his hands. “This tracker was found inside when we searched it as per procedures currently standardized in the state. Care to explain yourself?”

“A t-tracker?” Q was surprised. “Uncle, do you know anything?”

“Do you, sir?” The officer interjected. “There are serious security measures active in the area. If you know anything, you must report it immediately.”

“No. Hell no, I don’t know anything.” Terry said, standing up. “Maybe that boy Jackal put it-”

He suddenly realized his mistake. In the heat of the moment, his tongue slipped, revealing a name that was the worst to reveal, especially in front of the authorities. Even the policeman was shaken.

“I need backup immediately.” He quickly said into his radio, drawing his handgun, pointing it at Terry. “Y-you are under arrest for potential association with a terrorist. Raise your hands and get on your knees right now.”

“No...not like this...” Q thought, standing up. The officer pointed his gun at him.

“Quinton...” Terry said, before grabbing the officer’s gun. The officer fired, but the shots missed. Terry managed to grab the gun for himself and shot the officer in the chest. “Run!”

“Uncle! What the hell are you-”

“It’s either this or we get locked up!” Terry yelled, pointing the gun at the entrance. A pair of policemen entered, and the whole place was in panic. The customers tried to escape, while the officers aimed their handguns. “Go get to Jackal!”

“I know how they torture or imprison the people that have information.”

He unloaded the officer’s handgun into the other two policemen, taking a bullet himself. It thankfully only hit him in his left shoulder. Outside, more police cars were starting to assemble.

“I’ve already lived my life full of sins.”

“The kids don’t deserve to lose their lives.”

“No way, I’m with you!” Q yelled, trying to reach for his own handgun, hiding behind the seat behind Terry.

“Get outta here!” Terry yelled back. At this point, feeling the sincerity in his uncle’s voice, Q decided to flee. With the corner of his eye, however, he saw Terry’s end. The glass next to him shattered. From outside, an assault rifle unleashed hell on Terry’s body. He drew his last breath as one of the bullets pierced his head.

Q couldn’t even process the scene. He ran outside, jumping out of the window on the other side. He wanted to cry. To scream, to kill every single one of the people that killed Terry. But all he could do was just run. He was used to seeing death, even seeing people close to him die. But something about Terry’s death felt...surreal. He wanted to reject it. He wanted to be with his uncle that he’s known and loved his whole life.

He just ran. Through the alleys behind the place, into the streets, between the buildings and roads, he just ran. Would this have happened if things were...just a little different? What if they never pulled up? Why was there a tracking device? Why did he get so unlucky, matter of fact, why did the worst case scenario happen?

But he kept on running. Eventually, he stopped. In one of the alleyways, he leaned on the wall, and finally allowed himself to cry. Denial, anger, despair, the aggregation of all these feelings spewed out of his eyes and mouth.

He had difficulty accepting that Terry sacrificed himself for Jackal.