A glance at an untitled WIP - Chapter 1

There comes a point in everyone’s life when they wonder if they’ve made the right choices. Glenn was at that point as he rested his hands on the railing of the catwalk high above the stage. He had everything planned down the nth degree, as always. The AR-7 rested between his legs, scope attached. He could make his way from where he stood to the exit he needed even in the dark. He knew this because he’d practiced it several times over the last two days. One of the advantages of being on the backstage crew was the freedom of movement it gave him to roam the theater at will.

While he watched the show in progress, waiting for the moment when it was time to put his plan into action, part of his mind was lamenting the fact that, as always, he would be on a plane heading off to nowhere as soon as he was finished. Such was his life, one anonymous hotel room after another, no place to call home, no one to go home to even if he had had one.

“Maybe it’s time to find a new profession,” he murmured under his breath as he picked up the rifle. A fast check told him what he already knew, he was alone on the catwalk and would be for the next ten minutes.

He knelt, resting the rifle against one of the railing bars, peering through the scope to sight in on his target. He had no idea why the woman needed eliminating, and in this particular place, that was none of his business. It was his job to do it successfully, and in his own self-interests not to be caught afterwards.

The actress stood facing the actor playing her husband as they spoke their lines. Glenn knew he had one minute before she moved. He focused in on the top of her head and slowly pulled the trigger, once and then again. When the bullets hit there was a momentary dead silence and then the screams began as she fell to the stage floor.

Even as people rushed to his victim’s side and a few looked up into the fly space trying to locate him, Glenn was disassembling the rifle. He put the parts into the bag as he raced down the catwalk. When he reached the end he paused just long enough to strip off the black jumpsuit he’d been wearing, stuffing it into the bag as well. Now he was in the dark jeans and a navy turtleneck he’d worn when he came to work earlier that evening.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he made his way up the ladder at the end of the catwalk to the grid at the top of the theater’s fly space. He knew he was virtually invisible from below but was taking no chances, especially when he heard the sound of feet coming up the ladder from the backstage area to the lighting grid. Obviously at least one crew member was willing to take the chance that they could find him before he got away.

Just ahead of him now, at the top of a final short ladder, was the emergency exit he needed. He had already disabled the alarm so he didn’t have to worry about it as he pushed the trapdoor open and leapt onto the slanted roof. The roof was still slick from an earlier rain shower so he was doubly careful as he made his way to edge and then over it to the fire escape. Before he started down he checked to make certain the alley was vacant of any observers, including any transients who might have sought shelter in one of the doorways. With no one in sight he sped down, jumping the last few feet to the pavement.

Then he strolled casually towards the street, stopping long enough to light a cigarette. When he reached the end of the alley he smiled tightly as two patrol cars came to a screeching stop in front of the theater. He turned in the opposite direction and was soon just another pedestrian out for a night on the town.