Jack Carter

There are no heroes in my story, only villains. My brother died, you know? In a burned-out smoking car wreck, reeking of alcohol and petrol. Funny that, as he didn’t drink…or drive. I said someone is responsible. That someone has to pay. My name is Jack Carter, calling in debts is my business, and I said no one gets to go home ‘till all debts are cleared. As I lie here on the shale beach near the dredger, a sniper’s bullet in my brain, I am Jack Carter and I am dead but I did not die in vain. Don’t get me wrong, it’s like I said, there are no heroes in my story, but I’m the closest you’re going to get. An avenging, racketeering, hoodlum angel, my vengeance has been thoroughly indulged, so I’m happy. As I lie here on the shale beach near the dredger, a sniper’s bullet in my brain, the waves lap around me with gentle caresses, a gentleness I never knew in life, and blood trickles from my temple into the filthy sea. And although I lie here on the shale beach near the dredger, a sniper’s bullet in my brain, there is a faint smile on my lips, for I was Jack Carter and even though I’m dead I did not die in vain.