Dark Mist (Chapter 2)

      What if this person was here to kill me? What if it was my time? What if the past has finally decided to punish me? Jack’s thoughts racing, heart pounding then realism burst through, an assassin wouldn’t knock. With his left hand on the door handle, his right hand still gripping the gun. He used his thumb to flick the safety catch off and with his finger on the trigger wrenched the door open and in the same swift movement pointed the weapon at the caller. Aiming without falter at the head of the man standing with a concerned look on his face, this changed in an instant to one of terror. Raising both hands and dropping a brown paper that he was carrying the man said,
 
    “Whoa, Jack, it’s me Milo, w-what did I do?”

Recognising him immediately, Jack removed his finger from the trigger, lowered the gun and secured it to ‘safe’. Stepping aside he gestured with his right arm stretching into the cabin for Milo to enter, Milo lowered his hands which were shaking, still in shock he picked up the bag and slowly stepped forward and passed Jack.
   
    “Sorry about that Milo”, Jack said as he closed the door, “Not myself today, anyway what’s wrong with you?”
    “What do you mean?” Milo looked confused, clutching his paper bag.
    “Putting your hands up like a common criminal”, Jack said as he frowned.
    “Er.. let me guess, you were pointing a gun at my head”.          
    “It’s not the first time you’ve had a gun pointed at you”, Jack responded.

He was right but before he could say anymore Milo beat him to it,
    “Yeah but never by you”.
Thinking about that comment Jack said,
    “I thought you were someone else”.

Leaving it at that Milo didn’t want push his luck, after all Jack was still holding a fully loaded weapon, so decided to sit down and stay quiet. With his hands on his knees and sitting bolt upright, Milo was starring at the floor, lying there motionless was a discarded gun cartridge. Seemingly transfixed by the object he failed to notice the presence of Jack standing in front of him holding two beers. Waving a bottle of the beverage Jack said.
   
    “Milo, Milo are you okay?”
Milo slowly raised his head and finally said,
    “Huh, er, yeah, oh thanks”.

  Jack looked down at the floor to see what had grasped Milo’s attention, noticing the spent cartridge he crouched down to pick it up. As he stood back up he was faced with someone standing outside the window pointing a sub machine gun directly at, instinctively he reached for his hip for his gun. Drawing the weapon with his right hand and shoving Milo to the ground with the other he shouted, 

    “GET DOWN MILO”!   

Milo had no time to speak, all he could see was Jack’s feet, he tried to get up,
      “I said get down damn it”, with that pushed Milo down again. Still aiming the gun at the figure outside, finger poised on the trigger ready to unload the entire magazine should it be necessary. Milo grabbed Jack’s secondary weapon that was strapped to his ankle. On his hands and knees crawled backwards. Now in a position to jump to his feet he readied himself, with a silent one, two, and three he leapt up aiming the gun at the window. Nothing.

    “Jack, Jack”, he repeated, “there’s no-one”.

Milo handed Jack the gun back, handle first. Jack now couldn’t see the person so he re-holstered his gun.
   
    “Did you not see him, he was standing right there”, he said pointing, his voice shaky.
    “Look Jack, are you okay?”
    “He was there Milo, he was, tell me you saw, tell me”?
    “There was nothing out there, sorry”.

    Jack trusted Milo’s opinion over most. He looked distraught, maybe because there was no one there or was he losing his mind. He sat down head in his hands, Milo handed him a beer.          
    “Here drink this before it gets too warm”.
    “What’s wrong with me Milo?”
Milo thought for a while then said.
    “Have you been under stress lately?”
    “Stress, are you joking there is nothing around here to be stressed about. I have the ocean, the beach, my carpentry, this great house and I don’t work anymore, its bliss”.
   
    “Maybe you should see someone”.
    “You mean like a shrink, no thanks. They make you worse twisting things around digging into your past and dragging up shit you have tried to forget. I’ll pass”.

    Milo sat down next to Jack and tried again as he thought he could help by being a comforting friend he asked whether he was worried about anything. Jack was in a daze looking at the floor. He wasn’t for sharing his thoughts, Milo decided to go and get the doctor. The doctor could possibly get through to him.

As he neared the door Jack spoke.          
      “It comes and goes”.
Milo stopped and turned.
      “What does Jack?”
      “The past, my memories, all the bad memories”.

    Jack reached for some of the newspapers from the table and handed them to Milo. Confused by them at first as they were dated in the early 1980’s, the headline of the first read ‘FIFTEEN DIE IN MILITARY ACCIDENT?’ The emphasis was on the word accident implying that it was anything but. Milo read the story which explained that the soldiers were killed in an apparent training accident they had all been shot in the head, the mystery which ensued caused a bit of a stir in the military community.

An investigation was ordered and took six weeks to report its findings to the press, the verdict confirmed the soldiers had shot each other, they had been using live rounds and concluded that an error had occurred in the organisation of the exercise which resulted in their deaths. Jack was always unconvinced by the reports as he knew the real truth.

The other newspapers had similar stories of soldiers dying in none war related ‘Accidents’. Milo was confused and asked.          
    “I don’t understand Jack, what does this have to do with you?”
    “It’s a difficult complex discussion I wouldn’t burden you with grisly details”.

With that Milo put the newspapers down and pulled up a chair.
    “Try me”.