Tucker, You Bastard!

TUCKER FIRED!

The gunshot thundered through the bunker.

The smell of gunpowder mixed with blood instantly filled up tge room.

The hole in Emma’s head was small. Clean. But the pool of red spreading across the floor told the real story.

The gun still smoked in Tucker’s hands.

The door burst open.

Akira and Lien rushed in, wide-eyed with shock.

Their gaze dropped to the floor. To Emma’s lifeless body. Then to the gun in Tucker’s hand.

Akira’s voice was raw. “NO!”

He lunged and tackled Tucker hard, sending him crashing to the ground. The gun clattered away.

He swung hard at Tucker’s face, pummeling him. The pounding rattled his skull and split his lip.

Tucker twisted, threw Akira off.

They rolled, grappling, punching, slamming into furniture like wild animals.

“You killed her!” Akira cried, “You American dog!”

Victor jumped in, trying to pull them apart.

“Stop it!” He said, “Stop it now!”

“You shot her!” cried Lien as she knelt down next to her friend’s body.

Victor yanked Akira off Tucker, holding him back as he thrashed.

“Just calm down!” yelled Victor.

“Calm down?!” Akira cried, “He shot her! And you! YOU LET HIM DO IT!”

“It’s not my gun!” said Tucker, wiping blood from his mouth.

“Oh, the American is the one without the gun? Of course!”

“It’s true!” said Victor, “She wanted him to do it!”

“She was my friend too, Akira!” said Tucker, “She was like a sister to me! And now this place has taken her too!”

“Not this place—YOU! You did it!” said Akira.

“She was suffering!”

“We could’ve tried something else!”

Akira broke free and lunged at Tucker again. He dodged and then swung a hard right hook.

Akira blocked it and landed a hook of his own across his face.

Tucker fell to the floor and spit blood onto the floor.

“It was the only way to end her pain!” said Tucker.

“So that gave you the right?!” said Akira. “I’ll make sure you pay for this.”

Tucker’s eyes darkened. He opened his mouth to speak but then quickly shut it. What was he to say? Akira was rightfully pissed and at a time like this, people are dropping left and right.

Not only that, one of them murdered Emma. He wasn’t going to let anyone know he knew that. He needed time.

Time to think. The best thing to do was to comply and go back to some sense of order so he could by time.

He had to convince Akira to get off his back and fast.

“Fine,” said Tucker.

He walked over to the gun, picked it up, and thrusted it into Akira’s hands. Tucker shoved the barrel against his own forehead. He grabbed Akira’s wrist, forcing the gun to stay aimed.

Akira froze.

“You want to see a murderer?!” asked Tucker. His voice was low. Steady. Dangerous. “Do it.”

Akira’s breath got caught in his throat.

Tucker’s voice rose. “PULL THE TRIGGER.”

Akira gulped. His sweat stung his eyes. His heart was beating out of his chest. He was in control and yet he felt like everything was slipping.

“YOU’RE MAD, RIGHT? YOU’RE ANGRY? I’M A KILLER, RIGHT? PUT ME DOWN! COME ON—IF YOU THINK I REALLY DESERVE IT, DO IT! PULL THE FUCKING TRIGGER!”

The room held its breath. No one dared move a muscle.

Then Akira grabbed Tucker's shirt, pulling him closer. He put the barrel under Tucker’s chin with a sudden fire in his eyes.

But Akira’s finger trembled over the trigger.

His eyes darted to Emma’s body. His face burned with rage. His hands were soaked in sweat.

Then-

He lowered the gun.

Victor stepped forward, voice soft. “Give me the gun, Akira.”

Akira locked eyes with Tucker. He didn’t budge.

“Damnit, Akira!” cried Lien.

Slowly, he handed the gun to Victor.

Victor removed the magazine and took the bullet out the chamber. He pocketed the bullets. Holstered the empty weapon.

“We still have the communications to fix.” Akira said, his eyes still locked on Tucker. “Victor, you’ll watch the cameras. I’ll fix the tower myself.”

He poked Tucker in his chest. “When we call for EVAC, you will have no say in the matter of where we go..”

Tucker nodded. Akira just had a gun to his head, but he felt like he could be trusted. He knew that deep down, Akira was a good person.

Tucker reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive. “You’re gonna need this.”

Akira snatched it and stuffed it into his pocket without another word.

Tucker turned back to Emma. Knelt beside her.

The pool of blood had spread. Her face was still. Peaceful.

He reached up and closed her eyes.

Akira studied him. Then he knew. “This isn’t your first time killing someone, is it?” asked Akira.

Tucker’s jaw tightened. Now wasn’t the time for that conversation. Also, as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t any of his business.

Tucker glared at Akira and then left without saying a word.

CLANK!

The lock to the med bay slammed into place.

Tucker stood behind the reinforced glass wall, staring at Akira on the other side.

“There.” said Akira. “Maybe you can give Jack some company.” He turned to Lien. “Watch the prisoner.”

“Let’s go.” he said to victor.

Victor hesitated for half a second. Tucker nodded to him and he disappeared down the hall with Akira.

Lien exhaled and crossed “Well… here we are.” she said.

Tucker rubbed his face. “Yeah.”

There was an awkward pause between them. Tucker would ask to let him out, but he felt he caused enough trouble for now.

Lien nodded toward the unconscious man on the med bed. “How’s Jack?” she asked.

Tucker walked over, examining him. His face was wounds were stable but his bandages neede to be changed. Tucker took them off and was stunned just looking at him.

Jack was barely recognizable. His face was swollen to twice its size, covered in red boils and seared flesh. His lips looked bloated, unnatural, his nose mashed, his eyes bulging like golf balls.

Not a single smooth patch of skin left.

Tucker grabbed a mirror from the nearby table and held it under Jack’s nose.

A faint fog spread across the glass.

Alive.

He pressed his fingers to Jack’s neck. His pulse was weak but steady.

The vitals monitor blinked, numbers flashing across the screen.

Tucker sighed. “The good news is he’s alive.” He motioned to the screen. “The bad news? I don’t know what these numbers mean.”

He set the mirror back down and re-wrapped Jack’s face in new bandages. Tucker pulled up a chair, and buried his face in his hands.

“Akira…” Lien spoke softly. “He said this wasn’t your first kill.”

Tucker stayed silent

“Have you killed before?” she asked.

Tucker’s throat became dry.

“…It’s complicated,” he said .

“Not with me, it’s not.”

Tucker cleared his throat but then gave a small nod.

Lien looked away in shock. She teared up and swallowed hard. Then she turned, pacing toward the hall.

Tucker quickly rose from his chair.

“Wait, Lien!” he begged. “It’s not what you think.”

She paused and turned around.

“Was it self-defense?” she asked.

Tucker exhaled. “Kinda...”

Back at the farmhouse, years ago, the father knelt on the floor, hands raised, his family huddled behind him.

The mother clutched the children, shielding them as if her body alone could stop the bullets. They had surrounded the family, guns at the ready.

Mike stood over the father, gun leveled at his head.

“I’m not gonna ask again.” Mike said. “Where are they?”

The father’s voice shook. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit. I know you got oil drums somewhere.”

“Please…” the father fostered to his wife and kids, “Just let my family leave.”

Tucker stood behind his father, his own gun feeling too heavy in his hands.

“No one’s going anywhere until we get those drums.”

“I need them! My crops aren’t selling. I have to make money somehow.”

“We’ve all got mouths to feed.”

Then a voice called from outside.

“Hey! I think we found something!” it said.

Mike’s head snapped toward the barn and he stormed outside

Tucker followed him closely behind.

Outside, Mike’s men stood beside a row of red barrels. Mike smiled and went back inside.

“Well, well, well… looks like this is your lucky day.” said Mike.

“At least don’t take all of it!” the father pleaded, “Please.”

The little girl whimpered.

Mike scratched his chin, looking between his men and Tucker. He did have a kid of his own and he knew what he was going through. Mike sighed.

“Alright, Tuck. I need you to—”

POW!

The father lunged and tackled Mike to the ground.

Mike’s gun fired.

The bullet whizzed past Tucker’s ear—

And buried itself in Henry’s stomach!

Henry’s scream ripped through the air.

Tucker didn’t think.

He moved on instinct.

He fired.

The bullet tore through the father’s skull and his head exploded.

Blood. Bone. A mess of red across the walls.

Mike’s voice bellowed. “OPEN FIRE!”

His men didn’t hesitate.

A hailstorm of bullets ripped through the living room.

The mother.

The little girl.

The boy.

They collapsed where they stood.

Tucker’s gun slipped from his grip.

He stood there, shaking, staring at the bodies.

The horror being etched into his mind.

Mike shoved the corpse of the father off him.

Mike looked at Henry—clutching his gut, bleeding out.

His face twisted in rage. “Fucking idiot!” Mike cried. “I was going to let them- Damnit! Thanks Tuck. Tuck?”

Then he saw Tucker.

Tucker didn’t see him.

Didn’t hear him.

He was still staring at the boy’s lifeless eyes.

Still asking why.

Still searching for an answer.

Mike’s voice broke through the haze. “Good shot, Tuck.”

Tucker didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t breathe.

“It hurts! He got me good!” Henry cried.

Mike turned his attention to Henry and rushed over to him.

Jeff was already there, pressing on the wound.

Tucker never moved.

The dead boy’s eyes still held him.