Conrad: Horizon Watch

Art by CrimsonRabbit

Written by IllusoryWall

The sun is beginning to set and my shift on horizon watch is coming to a close. The shadows flooding the contours of the desert take the same predictable shapes as they do every day, with bigger variations only being noticeable to most people in different seasons. But I made a game out of guessing precisely where a few specific shadows would fall at the end of my shift a week in advance. I’m not surprised that I always nail it. I suppose that’s because it’s not really a guess, it’s a calculation.

But while staring at the vast openness in front of me, my mind isn’t with me in the desert. No matter how much I try to distract myself with puzzles of my own creation, it’s back in Pennsylvania.

“I’ll break every goddamn bone in his body if that’s what it takes.”

This is what I thought to myself before making a move; I was steeling myself for an ugly set of potential outcomes and I was convinced that this was the only path forward for taking back control of my life. I’d thought of a few contingencies depending on how he might respond but I wasn’t prepared for how badly everything went.

I hated him. Everything about him. It wasn’t just his escalating demands, it was the way he treated everyone. Expecting people to walk on eggshells around him. The way he’d look for any excuse to try and intimidate you, to let you know that your safety depends on not inconveniencing him. And perhaps the worst of all was the shit-eating grin that never faltered when he was treating others like dirt.

I don’t know if I ever would’ve summoned the courage to intervene on his bullying of others and I don’t like that about myself, but he made the mistake of demanding too much from me. Did he really think I was just going to keep nodding and playing along forever?

Billy was blackmailing me. I’m still not entirely sure how he found out, and that’s part of what continues to trouble me today. I had sex with his cousin Kevin once, and shortly after Billy started “asking” for favors. They became increasingly frequent to the point where they practically became daily errands, with the looming threat that there’d be a huge problem for me if word got out around town about my proclivities. And it wasn't before long that he started demanding money.

I have a fading memory of being frustrated that the one hookup in town was marred in this way. Finding an incredibly hot guy who wanted to fuck and then immediately losing that option pissed me off almost as much as the whole blackmailing thing, initially. The next time Kevin tried to meet, he asked me what was wrong and all I had to say was “Billy”. The insides of his ears went pale, like he’d seen a ghost, and we never spoke again.

My first cash payment was due and Billy found me at a plot of land I was surveying for the Huyard family. A roadway was planned adjacent to this space and they were eyeing what they anticipated to be prime real estate. We were alone and I had my tools with me, and this brought me some level of confidence. I couldn’t take him in a fair fight, but I figured I could seriously hurt him regardless and make him regret what he was doing. It was my turn to make demands of him.

I had it all thought out. If I caused visible injury, which seemed likely, I was going to make him lie about being jumped by strangers. He wasn’t going to tell on me, because if he did, I was going to find him and break all of his bones one by one. I was going to let him know that I stopped caring about what happened to me at this point, the loss of freedom was too much to bear and I would rather wind up in jail or dead than continue to let him abuse me like this. I was willing to forgive the extortion thus far if he never shared my secret, and in return he wouldn’t be maimed. At least, that’s what I was going to tell him, as I debated the level of violence required for his compliance.

I told him my satchel was “over here” as I walked behind a tree. Knowing that one of Billy’s favorite tactics was to intimidate by invading personal space, him following closely behind was an easy prediction that turned out to be accurate. He didn’t want to let me out of his sight; Even if I was doing everything he asked, I was expected to fear being choked or roughed up in the process if he felt like it. Simply going to retrieve my bag was not something he’d allow me any comfort in, so I knew he’d be in range.

But I failed to anticipate what happened next. I quickly grabbed my shovel that I hid behind the tree, spun around and gave him a hard smack to his muzzle. A tusk snapped in half and unceremoniously fell to the ground. For a split second he didn’t look angry, he seemed confused. I was getting ready to hit him again if I needed to, anticipating that he might try and wrestle the shovel away from me. Instead, his body went limp almost immediately. He somehow managed to fall as if he was collapsing both inwards and backwards simultaneously, like a puppet cut from its strings.

I still don’t understand how it all happened. While I have to admit to myself that I was probably full of rage, I don’t think I hit him that hard and his snout surely took the brunt of the impact. There was no way it was hard enough to cause a concussion, was it? Maybe he just fainted from having a tooth broken?

And then I heard that horrible sound. Not quite a thud, and not quite a crack, but something in between as the boar’s head landed hard on a rock. I found myself wanting his awful grin to return, an expression I thought I never wanted to see again, but instead that confused look was frozen on his face.

As the seconds started to tick away it felt like an eternity. Panic set in as I watched, hoping to see him blink or move. But the only development was blood starting to pool behind his right eye.

I don't remember the exact order of my reactions that followed, it's all a blur to me now. It was some combination of sobbing, vomiting, and clutching pathetically at the detritus on the ground before me.

Billy was dead. I killed a man in Pennsylvania and he is buried beneath Huyards’ General.

I didn't leave town immediately, I remained for a couple years so as to not arouse suspicion. But this took its toll on me. Having to pretend like everything was fine in my life to everyone I spoke to, attempting to convey the right level of surprise or disinterest upon hearing that Billy was missing, etc. Every interaction I had with others involved pretending to not be miserable. I did my best to isolate myself without making it obvious that I was doing that.

Though I made some effort to manage the circumstances, I’m fully aware that the reason I haven’t been caught is mostly due to luck. I’ve been wondering how, exactly, Billy knew about my encounter with Kevin. And did he ever brag to anyone about how he was making me do tasks for him? People had to have known that he essentially settled on me as his latest target, right? He wasn't exactly discreet with most of his bullying.

I was never taken in for questioning and if I was ever a suspect, it seems increasingly like that ship has sailed. Maybe it's because no one expects me to be violent. And without a body found, I’m guessing that no one ever put much effort into looking. Everyone kind of hated him anyway.

But there's not a lot of solace in feeling like I've gotten away with it. While it’s a little less frequent, I feel that I’ve been cursed with a recurring nightmare. When I finally manage to fall asleep, I hear a whooshing inside my head. I know this is just the blood flowing behind my ears, but it transforms into the sound of footsteps trampling tall grass. I find myself in a field at night, hiding. The grass isn’t tall enough and they’re going to see me. Some of the men searching are carrying torches, but the moonlight is more than enough. But it’s a red moon. A bloody eye watching. And the footsteps keep getting closer and closer.

It’s been nearly three years now. Two since I left town, and another since I’ve arrived at Southpaw. But just because I’m in the desert now doesn’t mean I’m out of the woods. There’s always that lingering feeling someone is going to connect the dots and that I won’t be able to escape the truth forever. What loose threads simply haven’t been tugged yet?

But just as I’m ready to close things up for the night, I manage to detect a barely-visible pulse in my peripheral vision. I realize that light is brighter when it approaches the outside of our eyes and that I’m very lucky to have noticed it at all. If I was looking straight at it, I probably wouldn’t have seen it.

I settle down at the telescope with my notepad in front of me. I carefully write it all down, then proceed to decrypt it with the cipher we had to memorize. I was going to do all of this regardless, it’s my job, but I knew this wasn’t another test run. They wouldn’t do that so close to dusk when visibility is at its poorest.

TO SP FROM CK

IMMINENT DARK

LEAVE

The next morning, the sun didn’t rise. And a week later, I found that I failed to calculate the shadowing of the desert correctly.

[Art by ThisFuckingDork]