Chapter 43: An Assassin Burns

Friday, Just After Sundown.

Friday was otherwise uneventful until sundown, when we took the three ninos and the two Sharks outside, attached them to poles and rolled an old tire in front of each of them. They were gagged and wore head bags with eyeholes cut in them, but otherwise were naked except for the shock devices.

We had no cleric so Gun Boy got a last talk from two of the soldiers. After taping his foul mouth they told him what was going to happen. Then, because he knew when he was going to die, they told him that if he prayed and made a perfect act of contrition he could escape the hellmouth and the wrath of “the Fallen Angel.” They said, “Each of your collateral kills is a martyr now in the Celestial army, the leader of the opposition will know how you have increased the Lord’s host.” The soldiers were brought up with religion so they felt they had to make the effort. They also said that, after he began to burn, he would be put out of his misery by somebody with a silenced rifle. As soldiers they really had no particular wish to see him suffer, but he had to burn alive and the sight might save some of his friends. He had to know the bullet was coming so he could make his last prayer.

I had read, from South African accounts, that a necklaced victim took about 20 minutes to die as they burned alive. Since these ninos had tried to kill me, I did not see that as a bad thing. Were I by myself, I would make no effort to end the torment early. But on the other hand, I gained no benefit from the last 19 minutes of their agony, my concern was the example they set for others who saw them burn, what they thought about, and how it might change the natural resolve not to talk. My soldiers, on the other hand, did not mind killing those who needed to be killed, but by nature they really did not look for people to suffer. A coup de grace is a mercy that soldiers have naturally given to both friends and foes who cannot be saved.

Of course Gun Boy was abusive to the end, but the soldiers were not doing this for him, it was for their own immortal souls. I did not have to believe to understand that, which was why a heartless bastard like me allowed it.

After that Gun Boy’s had his mouth stuffed with a plastic bag holding thermite and braces so he could not bite, his mouth was taped tight, and his limbs were secured with tight chains. He was dressed, but it was not dignity, the clothes would wick gasoline and burn. Besides the tape on his mouth his face was not otherwise covered, everyone in the circle knew him; they had all shared pizza. He was rolled to his pole on a hand truck and was fitted with the tire. I filled the tire with gas and sprinkled some on the top of the tire where the match would land. As I did I explaining quietly that he had failed at his mission because I was the one he was to kill. His eyes got wide when I showed him (only) my face. “You can see my handsome face is so you can see your failure. Next you will see Lucifer himself, I know he was once handsome also. It is quite an hour for you.” I think that was when he got the message. Or not. His eyes did not show a man in prayer - they showed pure burning rage. So, no last minute salvation snatched from the claws of damnation them. Good.

All was ready, I stepped back, then tossed a lit match so it landed on the tire. When it caught I walked away. The fire did not instantly engulf him, most of the gas was still in the tire, but it did not take long. Moments after he was engulfed in flames I heard the rifle, the shot was very soft because of the large silencer and the fact that the bullet used less powder than usual, so I was sure the others did not hear it. But I was listening for it. The mercy bullet hit his heart and Gun Boy’s suffering was over. Or, if you believe in the hereafter, much, much worse was just starting as hell greeted him.