Grave Intentions by Lori Sjoberg

without any action.”
    David remained silent, feeling no desire to share the length of his current dry spell. He’d locked down those urges a long time ago, right along with his sense of humanity and a host of other inconvenient emotions. With those out of the way, he found the job a lot easier to swallow.
    Still, there were times when the emptiness clawed at him with shocking ferocity. The worst times were in the dead of night, when his inner demons came out to play, reminding him of the things he had lost, the things he’d abandoned, the things he’d hoped he’d forgotten.
    He slumped back in his seat and tried to envision his family: the father who saluted him the last time he’d been home on leave, the mother who hugged him so hard he almost lost his breath, the brothers and sisters who idolized their big brother, the soldier. The memories had faded over time, reduced to grainy pictures with generalized features. Damn. It wouldn’t be much longer before those memories were lost to him, too.
    The image of his next-door neighbor was the next to crystallize in his mind. She appeared the way she was the night before, in her pajama bottoms and stretchy pink tank top, her dark hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. Her brown eyes glimmered with a mixture of compassion and determination as she doggedly tended to his wounds.
    He had to admit Sarah intrigued him, and not just because he couldn’t mold her thoughts. No, there was something about her, an elusive quality he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She was a riddle he couldn’t unravel, a puzzle he couldn’t solve with a cursory glance. If he thought he’d be around long enough, he’d invest the time and effort to crack the mystery.
    “Can you sense anything yet?” David asked Adam, shifting his focus back to where it belonged. Already, he could sense death descending upon the opulent two-story house on the corner of Shep-lin and Mays. He gauged the strength of the signal, using the knowledge to determine how much longer he’d have to wait for mortality to strike.
    Adam sat silent for a few beats. “I can feel it,” he said with a nod, his features sharpening as he locked onto the low, insistent pulse. “It’s getting stronger by the second.”
    “Very good. Keep focusing on it until you feel it in your bones.”
    Less than a minute later, a silver Mercedes with dark tinted windows pulled into the circular driveway. A middle-aged man stepped out of the car, a briefcase in one hand and a dozen white roses in the other. With a smile on his face and a spring in his step, he bounded up the brick walkway toward the house.
    “I think I know how this one’s playing out,” Adam said, his eyes fixated on the man as he unlocked the door and disappeared inside.
    It didn’t take long before the house erupted into chaos. The music suddenly cut off and the woman screamed. Glass shattered, and then gunshots pierced the peaceful tranquility of the affluent suburban neighborhood.
    Adam moved to open the passenger side door but David stopped him.
    “Not yet,” he said, never taking his eyes off the house.
    The front door burst open and the young Latino man ran from the house. Clad in nothing but a pair of loose-fitting red boxers, he sailed over the front steps and hit the yard at a full run, his arms pumping like his life depended on it. The older man was hot on his heels but quickly losing ground, his stout build and two-pack-a-day habit putting him at a distinct disadvantage. Back at the house, the statuesque brunette in a pink satin robe stood in the doorway, screaming, “Donald, no!”
    Out of breath, Donald faltered to a stop at the end of the street, his hands braced against his knees as he gasped for air. He watched, powerless, while the young man rounded the corner of a nearby home and disappeared from sight. As soon as he regained his composure, Donald stalked back to the house, his face the portrait of unfiltered rage.
    “We can stop this,” Adam