The Border Part Eight by Amy Cross Page B

voice was dry and croaked and more than a little tired. Deep down, he felt that he was getting to the end of it all. “No,” he continued, shaking his head. “No, this has to happen. I’d rather it was a bunch of other people doing it, but if we’re the only ones…”
    “The Border should have been shut down a long time ago,” she replied. “You’re not the only one who knew about it. I should have -”
    “I killed Garland Packer,” he said suddenly.
    She paused, before slowly turning to him.
    He frowned. Until the moment the words left his lips, he’d had no idea he was going to confess, but now it felt good. He’d told his father and mother, of course, but they hadn’t helped at all. Jane was a cop, and she didn’t seem to be a complete psychopath, so this was the first confession that really counted.
    “I killed Garland Packer,” he said again. “It was self-defense, but I did it.” He looked down at his hands, and for a moment he thought back to all the blood that had dried on his skin that day nine years ago. “We were arguing, I told him I’d tell everyone about the Border, and he threatened to…” He paused. “Well, he threatened my family. I got scared, and I hit him on the back of the head with a brick. Then when I realized he wasn’t quite dead yet, I hit him again.” He sniffed. “That did it.”
    “But…” Pausing, Jane seemed genuinely shocked.
    “You didn’t suspect me?” he asked.
    She shook her head.
    “Well, damn it,” he continued, leaning back in the chair and letting out a sigh, “I thought at least… I guess Alex really thought it was just another vagrant or…”
    His voice trailed off.
    “How did you manage to avoid leaving any evidence behind?” she asked. “Forensics went over the place, there was nothing.”
    He shrugged.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” she continued.
    “It means I don’t know,” he replied. “Just got lucky, I guess. Maybe I have a knack for these things.” He paused. “So I guess Jack was right about me.”
    “Hardly.”
    “He knew I was a killer. He just didn’t know who I’d killed.” Getting to his feet, he made his way over to look at the guns. “My brother knew me better than he realized. He picked up on something I didn’t even want to admit myself. No matter how hard I protested, he could tell something wasn’t right with me.” He paused again. “Even my insane, pig-headed father wasn’t far off the mark. I guess I owe the old man an apology.”
    “But it was self-defense,” she pointed out. “If you -”
    “Not in that split second,” he replied, interrupting her. “In that blink of an eye between raising the brick and smashing it into his head, I meant it. I experienced total clarity and I thought I could end the misery of the Border. I thought I could save the whole of Bowley. Look how that turned out, huh?”
    “You don’t have to come tonight,” she told him. “I can do this alone.”
    He shook his head.
    “I mean it,” she continued. “Ben, maybe this is too much for you. I can see it in your eyes, you’re struggling with the weight of the whole thing.”
    “Struggling with the weight?” he replied, as a faint smile flashed across his face. “No, I’m not struggling with any weight. You’re bringing far too much poetry to the situation. You’re the one who should back out, you’ve got two children to look after, children who just lost their father.”
    “Your mother’s with them,” she replied. “Beth too. Right now, I think it’s more important to fix this town so all the kids grow up without the Border’s influence.”
    “And what if we fail?” he asked, heading to the door.
    “How could we fail?”
    “The possibility didn’t occur to you?”
    “Well, I mean…” She paused, genuinely shocked by the idea. “How can we fail? It’s not like the Border is somehow impervious to the law. The place has only survived because no-one tried to shut it down.”
    “Maybe you