“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get your bags in a minute. Don’t rush us.” The taller male replies, reaching into his bag. Oh, right, I never mentioned that, either. They both have bags, rucksacks. I didn’t think it would warrant a mention, but it seems like it does. Well, whatever, I’ve mentioned it.
Instead of pulling out three smaller bags, like I would have expected, the taller male pulls out just one smaller bag, and he hands it over. Sykes takes it, and he stands there, waiting for the second and third bag.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting, for a while.
“Huh? What are you doing? You’ve got the stuff, now go!”
Sykes just shakes his head. “This is just one bag, you know.” He responds, his tone calm. It’s true, it’s just one bag. The taller male looks visibly angered, while the smaller male tries to pull him away from us, saying he should give us the other two bags.
But the taller male isn’t having any of it, and he turns around to the smaller male.
“Shut the fuck up, Sam.” He scowls, pushing the smaller male, Sam, away.
“Listen, Vinnie, just give them what they want, okay? What if they have powers?” Sam responds, a hint of terror in his voice. The taller male, who I guess is called Vinnie – is that short for anything? Whatever, I don’t care. He pushes Sam away again. Sam sighs.
“I don’t want to fight you, Vinnie, but I don’t want to fight them either!”
“Sam, I told you to shut the fuck up. When I say you do something, you fucking do it!” Vinnie roars, pinning Sam against the wall.
I turn to Sykes, who looks at the two, and he holds a hand up as soon as Anchor moves in.
“Aren’t you going to stop them?” I ask, but Sykes shakes his head.
But why not? They’re criminals, for a start, and then they’re fighting, so someone is going to get hurt! Why wouldn’t you arrest them, Sykes?
“I can hear you, Joanna.”
Damn you, Sykes.
“I’m not going to arrest them because we can use this to our advantage. They want to fight, we can sneak off with the bag in the middle of it.”
But just as soon as he finishes saying that, there’s an ungodly yelp, and I see Vinnie pull a knife out of Sam.
He stabbed Sam. Vinnie stabbed Sam, and Sam is bleeding, and now Vinnie is about to cut Sam’s throat.
“Told you to shut up, didn’t I?”
Vinnie is a cold-hearted person. Before my eyes, someone is going to die. Because we didn’t step in to do anything.
Dead. Sam is dead. Because of Vinnie. No, because of us. Sykes curses under his breath, before hurling himself at Vinnie, tackling him to the ground.
Anchor is standing there, like this is all natural to him.
Like they’ve seen this before. Like they’ve let people die before. Is this what I need to get used to? I don’t think I could. They were criminals, but they hadn’t… they hadn’t done anything. Sam hadn’t done anything.
Anchor is leading me away, while Sykes punches Vinnie. I hear a crack; is that his nose, his jaw? His skull? I don’t know. But I’m being lead away by someone I don’t know all that well.
“Sorry you had to see that, I guess. Better get used to it, though, Rookie.”
I shrug him off, and take a step away from him. “Get used to it, huh? Letting people die like that, isn’t that the opposite of what the police do?”
Anchor sighs, and turns me around to face him.
“Listen, kid, we ain’t the police. We’re under special jurisdiction, but we’re not police. We ain’t above the law, but also we are. Anything we do on-duty goes unnoticed if we have a good reason to do it.”
Right, I see. They can murder if they can come up with a good reason. What is that about?
“Letting that boy die, there, we needed to do that. If Sykes can’t come up with a good reason to explain it, though, then he’ll lose his job. We’re safe, we’re under his command right now.”
So we’re shifting accountability onto him? No, no, we could have stopped that.
“You could have stopped that, Anchor. I could have stopped that.”
Anchor shakes his head. “We’re weaponless. He had a knife.”
“You have powers.”
“Sykes stopped me. I can’t disobey direct orders.”
“Someone died!” My voice raises, and I realize I’m shouting.
This isn’t good. People are looking. Anchor grabs me and walks off, making sure to signal Sykes as we pass him. He seems to understand the situation, grabbing Vinnie’s bag and leaving. Looks like he’s called in the police to make an arrest.
“You’re all criminals, the whole lot of you. You’re no better than they are.” I snarl, struggling to escape Anchor’s grip.
He then stands me in front of him, firmly. I couldn’t escape if I tried.
There is a sharp slapping sound, and my cheek stings.
“Get some fucking sense, girl. People die every day, you can’t save everyone. Not everyone is a fucking hero, we have to let people die. Forget your god damn savior complex, it won’t help you at all.”
That’s Anchor’s voice. He’s growling underneath it all.
I can’t tell what stings worse. His words or his slap.
“We do what we do because we have to, it isn’t pretty for us, either, seeing people die. But if we have to kill someone, we do it, too. Sykes had his reasoning for letting the boy die.”
I snarl at them again. “You can’t have a reason for letting someone die, that’s insane!”
But Sykes cuts me off. “There’s a time and place for everything, Joanna, but just think about this for now. If you can’t think of a reason for why I would do this, I’ll explain later. But know this; I’ll let a friend die if it means the mission will be successful. Justice and villainy aren’t as clear-cut as you think they are. We’re not heroes. We’re not villains. We’re still citizens, no matter how you look at it.”
I sigh and turn around. I simply can’t process this, no matter how much I think. Is there really a need to let people die? Are people really just resources in this world? Or have I always been too close-minded to think any other way?
Now I’m doubting myself. What is wrong with this? This whole situation… it makes no sense. What’s wrong with me? Am I the problem here? I know people die every day, but I never thought one of my colleagues would let someone die for their cause. Just what kind of work am I doing here?
I need to think about this. Why would Sykes let the boy die?
Why?
Why?
Why?
I can’t think of anything. I can’t think of why someone would let someone die. I must be the anomaly here. Is this really common practice with the law? What am I doing here if that is the case?
But this isn’t the law. I know that. They said that. This is clandestine. Above the law. Sometimes completely illegal. But with permission. This is confusing. And scary. I want no part of it. What do I do here?
“I cannot think of a reason as to why anyone would let someone die.” I respond.
To which I get my answer. And it is not one I like.
“People are resources. Everyone is a means to an end, whether you like it or not. You’ll find those at the highest point of the chain are orchestrating everyone’s lives in a way that benefits them. You just need to accept that.”
