Live and Let Die

Down a wet road with neon banners and LCD posters illuminating the puddles, Gordon walks in the rain without an umbrella, though a laser rifle is strapped to his back. Gordon is in his early 30s, straight-laced and reserved. He balls his hands into fists and he passes through the city square, where other people hurry to catch taxis.

On his left Gordon sees an officer interrogating a woman. All Gordon can hear through the rain is the woman denying the accusations. An officer accosts her and points his finger at her sternly. The woman suddenly grabbed the officer by the throat. Gordon unstraps his laser rifle and shoots her, echoing high pitched beams of red lasers into the beast. After five shots, the woman falls to the ground, suddenly morphing into a ghoulish beast, revealing her true form. The beast groans and falls over. Gordon holsters his rifle and continues in the rain.

He reaches an alleyway where he finds a door hidden behind a dumpster. He pushes the dumpster, scraping the cement as he does so, and reveals the door. He enters inside.

Gordon drips onto the laminated flooring as he examines the room: a desk with a small lamp on it, one green chair opposite the desk, a cabinet with an open drawer displaying rows of files, and a lit cigarette resting on the desk as it slowly blackens the table from the fire. Gordon walks through the office and down a hallway, which leads into a large empty room, like a lobby. The vacancy of the room disturbs Gordon as he looks around. There is no furniture; just a massive window the size of the entire wall on his right, letting in the moonlight.

Gordon hears footsteps from the darkness. He looks and sees an old man, late 60s, emerge from the darkness. He face is permanently frowning and his forehead is cut deep with crease marks. They look at each other for a moment.

“Derek?” Gordon finally asks. “I’m Gordon.”

Derek stares at Gordon, disapprovingly. “You’re new, huh?” His voice is gruff, like he’d been shouting for hours.

“I’m getting the hang of it.”

“No you’re not,” Derek complains, insulted Gordon might be lying to him. Derek walks to the large window and watches the rain trickle down the glass from top to bottom.

“Did you ever get the hang of it?” Gordon asks hopefully.

“No,” he replied solemnly. “No one does.” Derek looks partially in Gordon’s direction. “Which is why I know you don’t.”

Derek continues to watch the rain fall as Gordon approaches the window and stands beside him. They each watch the rain slide down the glass, catching the moonlight in the drops.

“You killed yet?” Derek asks in a low tone, man to man.

“A few times.”

“How’d you feel?”

“Strange.”

“Have they all been Xenoapes?” Derek asks, knowing the answer. Gordon shakes his head. “Learn to move on from that.”

“That’s why I came to see you, Derek,” Gordon confesses. “Sometimes it’s too hard to tell the difference. Sometimes a man or a woman acts like they’re one of them but they aren’t. And vice versa. When it’s too hard to tell, what do you do?”

“You don’t think,” Derek says ominously. “Do your job. You’re a Xenoape Hunter, Gordon, your job is kill. If you question the morality of this stuff, this ain’t the job for you.”

“I don’t want to kill any person by accident, I want to know how to tell—”

“No one does, Gordon. Of course no one wants to kill a person. If there was a way to tell definitively who’s really a Xenoape then we wouldn’t have this problem. People will die. You will kill people, regular humans. You already have and you will again, many times. But that’s not on you.”

“How is it not on me? If I’m the one responsible, I need to figure out how to differentiate. How did you do it? You were on the first squadron of Xenoape Hunters. You remember the invasion. Was it easier then?”

Derek faces Gordon and looks at him like a frustrated father. “It wasn’t easier then. The first few cases where we investigated suspicions persons – yes, they were Xenoapes. But not my fourth. I remember my fourth because I couldn’t figure out why she was on the list, why she was suspect. But I went anyway to follow through, because the threat of Xenoapes was fresh, and we were terrified of everyone. Even the ones we loved. I heard a story then of a little girl who went shopping with her sister and her sister, instead of taking her home, turned out to be a Xenoape. They couldn’t find her real sister. And that story paralyzed the world. They could even look like your loved ones. That’s why I still went through on the fourth case and had to kill her. And when her body didn’t change… it didn’t matter.” Derek steps away from Gordon.

Gordon takes a step towards Derek, “Why didn’t it matter?”

Derek pauses. “Because of the greater good, Gordon. We made a pact in that first squadron to stick together when shit hits the fan. And it did very often. We knew we were going to take innocent lives. That was the risk we had to take, because we knew were the ones who could also kill the Xenoapes.” Derek points his finger firmly at Gordon. “You are the only ones who can kill them.”

Gordon turns away from Derek and walks to the opposite end of the window. He rubs his forehead. “There’s one thing I can’t do yet since joining.”

“What?”

“Sleep.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“Did you ever learn to sleep?”

“No. I became too tired to fight it any longer. Eventually it just happened. But the thoughts never left.”

Derek steps closer to Gordon and looks out the rainy window with him.

“When will know how many are left, Derek?” Gordon ponders aloud. “How will we know when we’ve killed the last Xenoape?”

“You’re asking if we’ll reach a point where we have killed the last one but we won’t know, so we’ll be killing each other for the rest of our lives?”

Gordon nods.

“We’ve been killing each other before Xenoapes. It didn’t start with them, it won’t end with them.” Derek looks at Gordon and does his best to keep eye contact. “Gordon… we didn’t ask to be in this broken world. You have to live and let die. It’s not your fault this is the way the world is, but you can do something about it. You will do the wrong thing, someone will want you dead for killing their son or daughter or grandmother because you got false information on someone that told you they’re supposed to be a Xenoape. Don’t let that define you in this job – hell, don’t let any of this define you. Just do your part, let them call you what they want, but fight for the greater good.”

Gordon walks away and leaves the vacant room, passing through the office and returned back into the rain. He passes by a man huddled against the brick wall beside the dumpster Gordon moved. The man reaches his hand out towards Gordon.

“Please, don’t you have any money for me?” the man smiles oddly.

Gordon looks at the man and hesitates.

“Please, don’t you have any money for me at all?”

Gordon reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a five dollar bill. The man smiles eagerly and waits for Gordon to place the dollar in his hand.

“Yes, please give it.”

Gordon watches the man carefully. The man’s eyes burn, desperate for the money.

“Give it! Now!”

Gordon draws his laser rifle and shoots the man. The man falls over a grimaces in pain before giving his final breath. Gordon waits for the man to transform into a Xenoape. He waits.