The Most Unlucky Kind of Accident

by Ryan Toronto

"Ya meet the best people in bars," the tall stranger said as he slid into the booth across from Rueben Calimente, who looked up, startled.

"Um, what?" he articulated.

"I'm bored. Felt like chattin' is all. 'M not interruptin' something, am I?" He sported a friendly grin which labeled him either a trustworthy guy or a swindler.

"Er, no, I was just drinking here. By myself," Rueben mumbled dumbly. He kicked himself mentally for his dorkiness.

"Yeah, that's what I'as doin' until like about 40 seconds ago," the grin widened a little, "Boring as all hell. Name's Ryan."

"Rueben," Rueben offered in return. They didn't shake hands, but it was obvious neither was hiding a weapon in one. Both held their respective glasses, and Rueben noted that his new acquaintance had brought his with him.

"So, Ryan, you do this often?" The man was right, sitting and drinking by oneself was as boring as every level of hell.

"Nah, never. But I'm tryin' somethin' new." He shrugged. "Gonna make a new friend, I thought."

Rueben thought about that. "I look like new friend material?" he asked after a moment.

The man shrugged again. "Well, ya looked least likely to shoot me the second I sat down. That's always a good thing to look for when startin' a relationship."

"Right, right," Rueben agreed.

There was a bit of silence. "'Course," Ryan started, "I suppose you should know that I might shoot you--" he paused for effect "--on accident if I got too drunk."

"Does that happen often?" Rueben slipped up an eyebrow.

"Sure, all the time. Well, it's been known to happen. Actually, there was just the once. I'm careful about it now." The grin faded all away as he spoke, until he was staring across at Rueben with a sort of sad/apologetic look. He shrugged again. "What are you running from the law for?" he asked suddenly, tossing the question over with a flick of his head.

"Um, I'm not sure I know what you're talking about...." Rueben replied with an embarrassed smile and a shake of his head.

"Ehh, don't hold out on me. We're all running away for some reason or 'nother. Out here. 'Course we didn't all choose to be out here!" Ryan's grin hadn't reappeared, but the corner of his mouth twitched, like he found something incredibly funny but didn't want to show it. At the same time, his brows furrowed in a twitch of their own. It was an odd, yet momentary, expression.

Rueben took a swig of his drink, debating. The guy could be a under cover guy, or something like that. He could be an assassin. "I rob people."

But Ryan seemed neither predatory nor impressed. "Yeah? What kinda people?"

"We robbed anybody who had the money. And the high-tech security system we could bypass." He grinned, and Ryan grinned back.

"Yeah, you know, I hate those types who brag about their security. 'Cause they just don't understand when you�when they find you in there at 3 in the morning."

"Totally! There was this one guy, and we'd been planning this one for weeks, and suddenly he upgrades his entire thing, but what does he do? He sends out a bulletin, to anybody on the waves, like, basically to us or anybody who was thinking of robbing him, telling us just how much better the system was now. And here we were, getting worried!" He laughed.

"I bet the bastard freaked out after, huh?"

"More than you could imagine. But it was his own fault, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's why I hate 'em. So is that what you did? The hacking?"

"Oh, no, Roki was more the techno-geek than me. I helped when I could, but my specialty was explosives."

Ryan whistled. "That's a nice trick. What got you into that?"

It was Rueben's turn to shrug. "Just one of many hobbies I could have pursued. Got me a nice comfy job, so no regrets."

"Yeah, props to you for learnin' a trade skill. All I got is sharp-shootin'."

"I'm sure you can get all kinds of jobs with that."

The strange twitchy grin/glare came back. "You'd be surprised. There's really just the one."

"I know what that feeling's like. I'm actually out of a job right now, myself, because all I know is how to blow things up." He chewed on his lip a little and looked away.

"Sorry ta hear. Crew fall apart?"

There was a pause. "They were killed."

Another pause.

"We got dumb and crossed a syndicate. You know how it goes."

"You weren't in the ship with them."

It wasn't a question. It was a realization. Rueben glanced back over, wondering why it sounded like a realization. What he saw on Ryan's face frightened him so badly it felt like his insides turned to ice.

Ryan stood, and Rueben flinched back, even though there was the table between them. The former held up his hands, showing he meant no harm. "I didn't know you. I didn't come to finish the job. I didn't--" He looked confused, and it confused Rueben to see it.

He dropped his hands to the table, leaning in. "I promise, I only came over 'cause I was bored!" His voice sounded strained, his expression was miserable. He pushed away, muttering angrily into hands that covered his face.

Rueben sat ashen and still. The stranger had been shaping out to be an assassin, by the things he said. But to be The Assassin of Rueben's life, the one out of the multitude to step from the shadows and directly affect his world--and he'd sat across the table and chatted and drank with him--!

"God, I'm sorry. Hell, I wasn't supposed to meet you. I was never supposed to meet you. I shouldn't have--crap, this is all wrong. You shouldn't have to meet me--I'm sorry! I'm sorry for what I did, you have no idea how sorry I am, I'm sorry for coming over here--I'm just sorry, man!" His blue eyes were pained, and Rueben thought they had no reason for them to be hurting so.

"I--it's not like I can forgive you," he said haltingly, shaking his head.

A pause. "No, no, 'course not," Ryan breathed.

"Your syndicate doesn't want me taken care of?"

Ryan looked a little lost for a second, then caught up. "Nah, after I--that, and reported that it was three instead of four, they decided to let you go. As an example. The survivor witness. I didn't know you were the fourth, I swear I didn't know."

Rueben nodded, feeling like this was some surreal dream. He grinned. It was a cold, bitter grin. "I'm sorry, Ryan, I don't think I can be your friend. Maybe if things were different--"

"Don't joke about that. I murdered your friends. If you 'ad been there, I'da killed you, too." The eyes were haunted.

"You didn't know them. They were the best people."

"I'm a hundred percent sure they were, but it's not my place to know who I kill. I wasn't ever supposed to know you."

Rueben shuddered. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask--what are you doing still standing here?"

"Don't be sorry. Don't ever be sorry to hurt me." Without any other word, he left.

Rueben's head sank down onto the table. Maybe now that he had a face and a name, he'd avenge Roki and Lazer and Paul. Maybe one day he'd have the strength to do it. But it would be hard to kill a guy he knew he could be such good friends with. You meet the worst people in bars.

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