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last update Last Updated: 2022-07-20 18:03:20
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Hi, Jason here. Figured I’d take this opportunity to clear some things up while Sarah’s unconscious. Don’t worry, she’s fine. I managed to get her into my car and to a safe location. Well . . . as safe a location as there is in our current circumstance . . .  She’s been out for a couple of hours, but I expect she’ll be waking up soon, so let’s get this over with while we can.

First and foremost, I’m going to assume Sarah has told you I cheated on her, probably with Mary Sue. I never cheated on her. I might be a heartless, work-for-hire killer, but I ain’t a cheating pig. Even assassins have morals, you know.

You may have picked up on the fact that Sarah has a few commitment issues, so when things started to get serious between us, she started looking for any excuse she could find to break things off. One day she saw me hugging one of my assassin trainees—and yes, that trainee just so happened to be Mary Sue, long before she and Sarah became acquainted in person—and Sarah blew the situation out of proportion. It was Mary Sue’s graduation, and I was congratulating her. That. Is. All. My relationship with Mary Sue was completely professional. Even after Sarah and I broke up, Mary Sue and I could have pursued a relationship if we’d wanted to, but neither of us was interested in that. But Sarah just needed an excuse to turn me into the bad guy.

Back when Nick first escaped, I tried to convince Zeke to place me on assignment with Sarah in Duluth because I wanted to be the one to protect her. Zeke believed, however, that Sarah would have killed me at first sight, and so he compromised by sending Mary Sue instead. It was also my suggestion that Mary Sue start training Sarah in assassin martial arts when they got back from Duluth, though, of course, we did not let Sarah know that this was my idea, as she undoubtedly would have rejected it outright just out of spite.

The point I’m trying to make is that, yes, I still care for Sarah even after the way she ended things, and I would never do anything to hurt her, including cheat on her.

And no, all assassins are not assholes. Sarah, per usual, took our breakup and blew everything out of proportion and decided that because I was, allegedly, an asshole, all assassins must be assholes. Hell, technically speaking, assassins are more balanced mentally than the P.S.K.’s, though I freely admit that I’m biased on that matter. But I think it goes without saying that there is a big difference between a contracted hit man and someone who thrives off of killing hordes of people just for the joy of killing.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m good at killing and I’m not ashamed to say it. I couldn’t be an effective assassin otherwise. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy being good at it. It’s a necessary evil of life in a society plagued with corruption, and so I do what needs to be done because it’s what I’m best at, but I would be lying if I said I sleep well after having finished a job. Sarah, on the other hand, I’m almost certain has never lost a night’s sleep over any of her kills, and that—to me, at least—is the biggest difference between a P.S.K. and an assassin.

Next, I imagine Sarah has probably claimed—repeatedly—that she has Tourette’s Syndrome. That’s bullshit. She just swears like a fucking sailor and likes to pretend she has Tourette’s as an excuse. Sarah, if you’re reading this, grow the fuck up already and own up to your potty mouth. We ain’t in grade school no more. If you want to fucking swear, fucking swear. You don’t need to fake a mental illness just to drop all the F-bombs you want.

This brings me to her ‘radar allergy’ thing. I think I’ve made it pretty clear by now—if you hadn’t already figured it out on your own—that Sarah is a compulsive liar. However, the radar thing is actually true. Yeah, I know. The one thing she says that is true is also the most ridiculously unbelievable thing she’s ever said. But I don’t know what to say, I’ve seen it in action. I was driving her home after one of our first dates, and I was speeding, and a cop clocked me with his radar gun. Sarah fell into a full-on epileptic seizure. At first, I thought she was just faking it to try and get me out of the speeding ticket, but the cop had to call in the paramedics and everything. Needless to say, I never sped while she was in the car with me ever again after that.

Let’s see, what else . . . oh yes! This is a good one! It’s actually kinda sweet . . . well . . . in a properly morbid Sarah kinda way . . . I’m sure you’ve probably noticed she replaces the word ‘god’ with ‘porcupine’—as in, ‘porcupinedamn it!’ Or, ‘Oh, for porcupine’s sake’! You probably just assumed it was a response to her extreme-antireligious philosophy, but there’s more to it than that.

When she was a kid, Sarah’s brain-dead, alcoholic, wife-beating, asshat of a father came up with the fucking brilliant idea of giving his four-year-old daughter a pet porcupine for her birthday. She named it Pinny since it looked like a pincushion. You can probably see where this is going. Sarah and her mother spent the majority of Sarah’s fourth birthday in the emergency room—Daddy Dearest, of course, couldn’t be bothered to go with them—getting the quills removed from her backside. I’ve seen the scars. (Sarah is going to murder me for telling you this . . . and I don’t mean that figuratively . . . ) Sarah’s mother, being the abuser-enabler she was, lied for her husband and told the E.R. staff that Sarah had stumbled upon the porcupine in the woods.

Needless to say, Pinny did not stay in the family after that incident, but her worthless parents never got her a real pet, either, so Pinny is literally the only pet Sarah ever owned. As she grew older and began to come to terms with her complete aversion to religion, she looked for an alternative to a ‘god-figure’, and for some weird reason, her warped psyche decided that her only pet, Pinny, was a suitable replacement.

Like I said, kinda sweet in a morbidly Sarah kinda way.

Speaking of her fucktard of a father, there’s one last thing I think you should know . . . Shit, she’s waking up. I gotta go. Nice chatting with you. Please don’t let her know I told you that she doesn’t have Tourette’s.

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  • Sarah Killian: The Marching Tides   Epilogue

    EPILOGUESo, where doesthis leave us now? I don’t have much more to say on the matter. I’ve now killed both my parents, a surrogate father figure, and the only man I’ve ever even come close to feeling what some might describe as love for. I suppose I could spend my energy hunting down the rest of the Marching Tides and make sure they don’t spill T.H.E.M.’s—and therein my—secrets to the world, but honestly, I don’t have the energy to care about all that now. I got the revenge I was looking for, and it cost me all of the people I ever cared about.I suppose I’m a little concerned that the remaining Marching Tides may try and hunt me down and avenge the death of their leader—my mother—but I say let them try. I will be more than happy to kill any one of those fuckers who tries to fuck with me.So, what now? I have to admit Jason’s idea of finding the beach from The Shawshank Redemptionhas a certain appeal. If only he hadn’t felt the need to go all ‘patriarchal protector’ o

  • Sarah Killian: The Marching Tides   24

    24I slowly cometo my senses, dazed and confused. Gradually, I remember the seizure; my radar intolerance frequently results in temporary memory loss. I take a look at my surroundings and see I’m in some sort of abandoned warehouse—obviously not the same one from Vegas where Jason and I had confronted Chuck, Gale, and Jared, but as far as abandoned warehouses go, there’s not that much variety. You end up kidnapped in one abandoned warehouse, you’ve ended up kidnapped in them all.I’m in an old, splintery wooden chair but I don’t appear to be restrained at all—verytrusting of my elusive captor. They do not appear, however, to have been so trusting as to leave me with Borden for it is conspicuously missing from the sheath under my waistband. This fucker is going to pay ... no onetakes Borden from me.I survey the rest of the room and see two other chairs across the warehouse, both occupied by captives who are unconscious—but breathing—andbound fir

  • Sarah Killian: The Marching Tides   23

    23I wake upthe next morning before Jason and decide to check the Dark Web. I start up the pay-per-use phone, log into the app, and immediately see there is a new post from Rick. It reads, simply: “Dear Sarah, I know you’ll read this. I will see you soon. Hasa Diga, Ebowai.”The world drops out from under me. The meaning of those last three words is clear. There were only three people in the diner when I made that Book of Mormonreference to Zeke; myself, Zeke, and Jason, and unless we’re going for a Fight Clubtwist ending here where it turns out I’ve had a split personality working against me this entire time—for fuck’s sake, I sure hope we’re not going down thattired out trope—that means either Jason or Zeke have ratted me out to Rick, or might even beRick.I climb out of bed, doing my best not to make too much commotion and wake Jason, and start pacing the room, trying to sort out my thoughts. It makes absolutely zero sense for Zeke to turncoat on his

  • Sarah Killian: The Marching Tides   22

    22In the morning,I decide it might not be a bad idea to give myself a bit of a cover story so I call down to the front desk to complain about the noise from the room next door last night. “They were blasting their music so loud, and it was after three in the morning, it was so damn obnoxious. They woke me right up out of sleep!”“Did you call to notify us at the time of the incident?” the operator asks. I can tell from the tone of his voice that this is a conversation he has had one hundred times too many.“Well, no ... ”“Then what exactly do you expect us to do about it? If you’d told us about the incident at the time it was happening, we could have addressed the matter and resolved it without causing you any further discomfort. Unfortunately, our engineering team has not yet cracked the secret of time travel, though I assure you they are working diligently on it, so at this point of the morning there isn’t anything we can do to address the problem.”I sudde

  • Sarah Killian: The Marching Tides   21

    21First thing thenext morning, we check our new Dark Web app. Sure enough, the first post on the Marching Tides board is a bulletin from the enigmatic Rick, increasing the bounty on my head to six million bucks. On the plus side, Rick still wants me brought to him alive at all costs, so I guess I should be thankful for that small favor. Jason’s life is, apparently, still considered expendable, though. Stupidly, I break the number one rule of the internet, which is even more true for the darkside of the internet: neverread the comments. Not entirely surprisingly, the majority of the comments are along the misogynistic lines of, “Oh, I’ll bring her in alive ... what I do to her beforethat is a different matter ... ” And people honestly wonder why I killed twelve men—I killed one woman, just to try it out, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying—for pleasure before T.H.E.M. recruited me? Seems pretty self-explanatory, to me.Rick doesn’t app

  • Sarah Killian: The Marching Tides   20

    20We find a restaurant—a realrestaurant, not just a diner, for once!—to have some dinner, then seek out a motel to spend the night. We agree we shouldn’t check the Dark Web app until we’re ready to leave Phoenix, or whatever location we are currently at whenever we check in, just in case we do set off any silent alarms. After checking into our motel room, we decide it’s a good time to switch up our appearances and identities again. I adopt a chin-length blonde wig accompanied by brown-tinted contact lenses and a new prosthetic nose. This time Jason decides to be the one to go ginger with hair dye and a fake beard.Our new disguises donned, Jason asks, “So, what do we do now? We’ve got the whole night ahead of us since we can’t check the Dark Web app until the morning.”“Well, we could ... you know... ” I smile.“I don’t think we should repay Frank’s hospitality by killing some random Phoenician immediately after Frank risked his career to help

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