A few things went through my mind as I crouched on the ground that day, a lethal weapon aimed at my head. 1. That guns are scary. They’re not the cool little toys I played with when I was younger, but are very very scary, and that fear factor increases a hundred-fold when one is pointed at you 2. Fear cripples you. I had injured my ankle, but the reason I felt paralysed was because I feared for my life And 3. You never know what sort of person you are, until you stare death in the face.

Well I looked death in the face, and in doing so, I realised what a coward I was

My mind should have been running wild with ideas about how to take the guy out, grab his weapon and save the day, But I couldn’t past the thought that I couldn’t move, and that even if I could pluck up the courage, that my legs would just give out on me I wouldn’t be able to save the day, I wouldn’t even be able to save myself.

I always imagined that if someone had done anything to someone I cared about; I would put my own life at risk to return the favour. Yet, there I was. Someone I knew had been viciously attacked, the person responsible stood inches away and still I couldn’t pluck up the courage to speak, let alone get vengeance. I was a mess, so ashamed of myself, clutching my ankle because that’s all I could think of to do. I daren’t look back at my captor, I only kept my head facing forward as instructed, occasionally glancing at Cutter or Kal… when I wasn’t hanging my head down in shame that is.

Had this criminal attacked Frankie, what then? Would I have gotten up off my ass? Would I have as surrendered so readily? Or would I have done whatever was necessary?

These thoughts and more went through my head. I just prayed that the bullet wouldn’t soon join them.

*****

“Everyone’s got something to lose”, the creep stated

Cutter glanced up at the young man, whose words sounded eerily familiar.

I could hear the wild card move on from me, and head towards Cutter, his gun now trained on his new target. “Ain’t that right, Cutter?”

The stocky man stared intently at the wild card. “Who the hell are you?”

As the creep smiled, me and Kal could but look at each other as we tried to discern the nature of their relationship

“You know, I can’t believe you kept the name” the creep sniggered.

“Who are you?” Cutter repeated

“After all these years, you kept that name, even now”.

Cutter started to stand, demanding “who the…”

“GET BACK ON YOUR KNEES!” our captor ordered, pointing the gun intently at Cutter, more than willing to shoot him then and there.

Cutter stopped himself just in time, and slowly backed down.

“See, that’s what I don’t get,” the creep continued “you act like you’re still the same guy, you keep the name and all that go se. But you’re not. You’re not even half the man you were. You’ve gone soft”

Cutter remained silent, but the question was still on his lips.

“You don’t recognise me? Well, ain’t that a shame. Cos I sure as hell looked up to you, once upon a time”

Then it must have hit him, cos Cutter’s face suddenly dropped and a name flew off his lips “Little Sammy D”

The man stopped, seemingly surprised by Cutter’s response. “So, you do remember.”

“I remember you were a smart kid who knew better than to get involved with murder”

“Is that right? Cos I seem to remember you calling me weak, and someone who’ll never make it in this verse. So you change your mind, or just tryna save your own skin?”

Cutter revealed a little smirk. “A little of both I guess.”

“Yeah, then I guess you are weak.”

“Why are you here?” Cutter snapped. “What the hell you doing here?”

“Where’s your manners Cutter” Sammy replied, his words drenched in hatred

“Why the hell did you come here? Why did you do that to…?” He can’t quite finish off his question, fearing he already knows the answer.

“I came here for you. To send you a message.”

“What message?”

Sammy unveiled a wicked grin, before feigning an innocent face. “I wrote it down for you back there”

Cutter looked blankly past Sammy, lost in his own thoughts as he tried to discern what he meant.

“Well… maybe not so much written,” the criminal paused “as carved”

The full weight of his words hit me, causing my stomach to turn. What he had done to her - to Victoria - it made me feel sick just thinking about it. I didn’t want to think about it. But I couldn’t help it. This guy deserved to…

But Cutter was way ahead of me.

His life be damned, he wasn’t going to sit there and listen to it.

He launched his body forward off of the ground, tackling Sammy before he had the chance to react. Sammy should have been expecting it. To tell you the truth, he probably was. There was no way he could have said that and not know it would push Cutter over the edge. But even so, he just wasn’t quick enough to pull the trigger. In a split second, Cutter had pushed him onto the floor, the weapon flying out of Sammy’s hand, and now the creep was being beaten to a bloody pulp.

Kal was up first, running towards the struggle that ensued amidst the gravel and leaves. I moved, but could barely walk let alone run. I staggered over there, hopping almost, barely putting any pressure on the injured ankle. But when I did, I fell to the ground in a heavy heap. I wasn’t far from them now. I could just make out the angry screams pouring out of Cutter’s mouth. “WHO SENT YOU?” he asked over and over again, planting punch after punch into the young offenders face. At first it seemed the creep was laughing, but soon that stopped, replaced only with groans of pain.

Kal was trying to pull Cutter away, whose punches had since ceased but had exchanged that method for repeatedly slamming the culprit’s head down hard on the ground.

I crawled towards them, and picked up the discarded weapon in the process.

“I’M DONE YOU HEAR ME?! DONE!” Cutter yelled

Finally reaching them, I aimed the gun at the three men who struggled for dominance and shouted “Cutter, I got him”

The announcement failed to evoke any response from the security guard though, as he continued to take out his anger on the young offender. “Kal!” I called out desperately.

My colleague looked at me and acknowledged my presence. With one last heave, he managed to pull Cutter towards him and off of his target.

The pair of them fell back and landed hard on the ground, dust rising into the air around them.

“Don’t move you hundan” I ordered, the weapon now fixed on the man laying in front of me.

And he didn’t. He didn’t move an inch. He didn’t make a sound. He didn’t even draw another breath.

I walked on my knees towards him.

The young man laid still. Motionless. Dead. His face was bloody and beaten, deep cuts penetrating his cheeks. And underneath his head, the ground was stained red. A pool of his soul gathered between shoulder and neck.

I tore my gaze from the lifeless husk and stared at the man that had taken his soul.

Cutter was already on his feet, and stood over me and the body – the result of his anger.

He showed no guilt. No remorse. And to tell you the truth, I’m not sure if he should have. His face simply declared this fact: Justice is done

*****

For minutes afterward, silence remained with the three of us. Kal did not say anything to Cutter. I didn’t know if it was because there was nothing left to say, that what took place there needed to happen, or if his silence was attributed to shock – that even though we may wish for vengeance on people, the pay-off is rarely just or satisfying. I too did not dare speak. I merely stared through the body, lost in my own thoughts, contemplating what was going to happen next as I clutched my ankle. Occasionally, the pain of my ankle would break my trance, but all too easily, I’d slip back into it. As for Cutter, he remained standing, staring down at the body with a look of sadness. Not guilt –sadness. You might even say disappointment. But not disappointment in his own actions, as least I don’t think. I don’t think he was disappointed in himself, the fact that it had to come down to this, but disappointment in Sammy, the one whose life he had taken.

I didn’t know who he was, but obviously Cutter did.

Even so, it came as some surprise when he crouched down toward the body and stared intently at it. A minute later, he moved towards the body and reached into the dead man’s pockets.

“What are you…” I started to say, before stopping myself. Cutter simply ignored the fact that I had even spoken.

The man’s pockets seemed to be empty, no wallet or anything. But then Cutter fingered something that seemed to have great importance. A photo. Of what? I don’t know. I didn’t have the fortune of getting a good look at it, but Cutter did. He peered into it deeply, and his grip of the photo tightened, creasing it at the ends somewhat. Whatever it was, it meant a lot to him.

A lost love? Damning evidence on him? One could ponder. Myself? I just wanted it to be over.

And for me, it almost was. But not for him. Not for Cutter. I imagine he was just getting started. Standing up again, with the photo still held tight in his hand, he looked at me. Then he looked at Kal.

There was something in his eyes. Regret. Regret that he had dragged us into his problems. He must have known we would be questioned about the incident. That the police wouldn’t go easy on us. But even so, he couldn’t stay to ameliorate the situation. He had to go.

I don’t know where he was going. He never uttered a word. He simply walked off into the woods. He never returned to gather his belongings. He just went. And for some reason, we understood - both me and Kal. We never questioned it. We just let it be.

There was a lot I didn’t know about this man, this man who had worked security for as long as I’d known him. But there is a lot we keep from others, even our closest friends. We all have secrets I guess, skeletons in our closet. It seems Cutter had his fair share too. Only his skeletons decided to come back to haunt him, and Victoria paid the price.

Although Cutter was gone, no doubt off to deal with his past once and for all, we had to stay and face the music. I wish that was all I had to face. But no, it seemed “destiny” had other things in store for me.