Impression Sunrise

Claude_Monet,_Impression,_soleil_levant

“Hurry up!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!”

“That’s obviously not fast enough!”

James slanted his eyes in irritation at his companion. Henry took no notice of the anger glare. He keep his eyes trained on the streets, making sure no one was around to see them. The streets stood empty though, not that that made him feel any better.

“Henry, do you really think he was-“

“Of course he was you fool!” Henry snapped in a furious whisper. “You saw all the blood.”

“God Henry, we killed a man.”

“You shot him first. Jumpy as a damned rabbit!”

James could have sworn that he and Henry had shot the merchant at the same time, but after the panic and fleeing the store, the memory now was a mixed bluer. More he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that he had shot first. Henry was right; he was jumpier than a rabbit. Over all though, it was a disastrous robbery.

“Damn, James, you done yet?”

“Almost. It’s not like I can see what I’m doing too well.” In truth, even though the gray twilight of the foggy morning cast everything in a dark gloom, it was the ever persistent shaking of his hands that kept him from untying the knot. Finally he managed to loosen the rope. “Okay, we’re good!”

“Finally.”

James ignored the sarcasm in Henry’s voice as pushed the row bot away from the small dock and hoped in after it. Henry had been sitting at the stern as James had been working. Now hefting a long rod, he stood up and began to push the boat though the gray waters.

“Henry, what are we going to do?” James asked as he leaned over the edge of the boat, letting his hand trail in the fidget wavelets.

“I don’t’ know,” he mumbled back. “Find the first ship to London and never come back to Paris.” James let those words sink in. Run from Paris because they had killed a man.

Everything had been a bluer but he remembered so clearly the five shots, the shocked expression that stuck permanently to the man’s face as he’s body danced in the final spasms of death. He felt light headed as the image of the man’s glazed eyes stared back at him.

Henry raised an eyebrow as he watched James suddenly vomit over the edge of the boat. Poor man was in shock, he thought to himself. At least he had the good sense to be sick into the water rather than in the boat. As he continued to watch the gasping and trembling figure, hunched over pathetically, he noticed the misty sheets of the fog start to shimmer with an orange-red haze. Looking down the water he saw the dark silhouette of mast from ships docked along the shore. There, a perfect orb reflecting its sad light onto the water now; a red sun rose into fog. Henry gazed at it for a moment, than turned away, forcing the rod into the water a bit harder, so that the icy water splashed up at him. That red sun reminded him far to much of the blood that had been spilled before it had even risen.

Henry suddenly stiffened as he saw another boat occupied with a few fisherman not to fair from them. “James, get ahold of yourself!” he snapped. “If they see you tumbling and moaning like a loon they’re gonna think something’s up!” James glanced balefully back at him. Not saying anything though, he did his best to keep himself from being sick again. Slowly they passed the small fishing boat. He watched them bob by in silence. Red haze on the water turned it sinister. And just as with Henry, it reminded him far to much of the blood that had been split by their own hands. God they were killers now. A whole world of normal life had just been lost to them. Now…now he didn’t know what would happen to them–that’s what made him so sick that it quavered his very soul.

“Please oh God, have mercy on our souls”

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