Page 65 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“Jaine, the intruder at the front is moving toward the building.”

Clutching the replacement rifle in both hands, I start to run. I need to stop him from getting inside.

“I’m on my way.” I round the corner toward the front elevation. “There’s no one here, Irish.”

It’s then I hear the crunch of gravel behind me. I spin around, raising my weapon at the same time. The other sniper spots me and raises his. We stand face to face directly in front of the house that holds my entire world, our rifles pointed at each other’s heads.

One of us is going to die today. Right now, it’s a coin toss over which one. Then again, it’s more likely to be both of us as, this time, my shot will be true, as will his, I’m sure.

Today’s as good a day as any to die, I guess. My blood instantly turns cold as Death himself caresses my skin.

I’m suddenly flooded with regret. Is this what it was like for Ace when he knew it was his time? I have things I want to say, and now I’ll never get the chance.

Ace. Eoin. Irish.

My babies.

I’ll see my beautiful boy soon enough, so I can finally deliver the words I want to say to him face-to-face.

I’ll never get the chance to say the words to Eoin that I want to. To tell him I love him and that I’m sorry. Should I have tried harder to make things work between us? Is love enough? Is love reallyall that matters?

Icansay the words I need to say to Irish, though. Everything else will come out after I’ve gone. Fin’s parentage. The fact that he never cheated. Those are truths someone else can easily reveal.

I want to return the words I took from him three years ago. Words that only I can return. He can do with them as he wishes. Ignore them. Laugh at them.

Reciprocate them.

“Irish.”

“Jaine.”

“Tell my boys I love them.”

“You can tell them that your….”

“Tell Eoin that I love him and that I’m sorry.”

“Jaine…”

“And Irish?” I interject because time is running out. “I love you. Always have. Always will.”

Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

I’m not sure how long passes before I hear the shot. It takes a second to register that it hasn’t been fired from a rifle. I watch as the intruder drops to the ground before slowly turning my head toward the door of the house I’ve been living in all these months.

Eoin.

The murder weapon is still in his hand, and it’s now pointed straight at me.

He saved my life. Is he now going to end it?

We stare at each other. Right now, he has no idea that it’s me. Right now, he’s staring at The Exterminator for the first time in his life. Up until now, I was a ghost. A rumor. A figment of his imagination. But here I am in the flesh.

He can see me. And I can see him.

How exhausted he looks. How worn out with life. I choke back a sob. I did that to him, but what choice did he leave me?

Will he now walk over and rip off my mask, or will he allow me to leave with my secret still intact? I stare at him for a moment longer and watch as he lowers the weapon. He makes no attempt to move toward me.

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