EIGHT. the train runs off its tracks

     
McKenna started killing at a young age and she knew that's why she didn't like to sleep alone. She always had a fear of someone breaking into her home to someone trying to hurt her. But she had no worries that morning. She felt safe and serene. Like she wasn't on a different planet.

When she woke up, Five wasn't there, but his side of the bed was dented. McKenna ran her hand along the pillow and comforter. Her lips still tingled from the night before. She touched them and smiled. She sat her, her wild hair falling around her, and she looked around her brightly lit room.

She heard light footsteps and turned her head. Five appeared and stood by the doorframe when he saw that she was awake. He was taken away by her beauty and he wondered how someone could be so beautiful when they've just woken up. "Hi." He spoke first.

McKenna smiled again. "Hi."

"I tried not to wake up."

"Oh, that's okay." She replied and stretched her muscles. She leaned back on her arm and smiled at him again, his eyes still on her. "What?"

Five shook his head. "Nothing. You're just. . . You're so beautiful."

Her cheeks reddened and her smile grew wider. "Last night—"

"Was perfect." He finished and walked into her room. He sat on the bed with her. Five pushed her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. "When do you leave for your mission?"

"A couple hours." She said quietly.

"What do you want to do till then?"

She brought her hand up and wrapped it around his wrist. "Can you we just stay here?" She basically whispered. She wanted nothing more.

Five smiled and shifted on the bed. McKenna moved as well and he slid under the covers. She smiled and laid her head on his bare chest. She swirled her fingers on his skin. "I feel like I'm dreaming when I'm with you." She whispered again.

Five stared at her ceiling and smiled again. He ran his fingers up and down her arm that was around his chest. "It's real, Ken. Believe me."

Being in 1800s Washington brought back memories of when McKenna and Five traveled to Sarajevo. The women were long flowing dresses with corsets and the men wore suits and hats. McKenna refused to wear a corset again so she made herself invisible. The sky was nearly black but she could see the shining lights through the windows of Ford's Theater. She then checked her watch: 10:00. She had exactly fifteen minutes.

      McKenna blinked and landed in an empty hallway of the theater. She kept herself invisible and made her way down the hallway to the front area of the theater. She searched the crowd of people for anything specific that stuck out.

Then she saw a man wearing an all black suit and a hat that was covering his face. He kept his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets. He was leaned against a wall and tapping his foot on the floor. Bingo.

When the theater goers started gathering in the theater through the same door, McKenna watched the man in the all black suit disappear down a hallway, but not before looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody was looking.

Keeping herself invisible, she followed him and the man walked into a room that led to upstairs where the private room was. McKenna blinked upstairs and appeared in the middle of the hallway. The man came walking down the hall at a fast pace and he headed for the door to the private room where President Lincoln was. He screamed when she approached in front of him. "What the hell!"

"I know what you're trying to do and I won't let you!" She spoke quickly.

"You shove here. Get out of my way!" He sneered and pushed her back.

McKenna spun around and raised her gun, pointing it to the back of his head. "I won't tell you again." She threatened.

At the sound of the gun, the man slowly chuckled. "You don't want to do this, darling."

"Try me."

She felt a sudden blow to her head and McKenna stumbled forward. She groaned and turned her head to see another man standing above her with a gun pointed to her face. He was a large, bulky man wearing the same black hat as the other man. "Who are you and where did you come from?" His voice was dark and cold.

"Your mother."

He glared and was about to pull the gun but instead, he kicked her in the back, making her groan again.

"What're you waiting for? Shoot her!" Another man behind him led.

"We don't have time! He'll be here any minute. Can't risk a wasted bullet."

"Not wasted if you actually hit the target." McKenna mocked him.

"Shoot her!"

      "Wait, I hear something!" The first man she encountered spoke.

If McKenna didn't have a gun pointed at her face, she would kicked him in the balls by now. Instead,  she blinked away and appeared behind him, clocking him in the back of the head with her gun and making him pass out cold.

"What the hell—"

She spun around and pointed her gun at one of the men's face. "If you still want your faces intact,  I suggest you shut up." She hissed.

A familiar face appeared in the hallway and her eyes widened. John Wilkes Booth. She checked her watch quickly. 10:10. 

The assassinator's eyes widened at the scene and the man McKenna was after raised his gun. "Don't move!"

She blinked again and appeared by his side. Her sudden movements shocked them all. McKenna kicked him in the ribs and he dropped his gun.  Unfortunately for her, his finger pulled the trigger and the bullet went off directly into Booth's foot.

"AHHH!"

The shot caused screams in the theater and Booth fell the floor in pain, the knife and gun falling. "Shit!"  McKenna cursed. The man scrambled for his gun but she kicked it away before he could. The gunshot caused screams in the private room and suddenly,  President Lincoln and his wife and guests came running out. McKenna's eyes widened in a panic.

Before she could do anything, a pair of arms wrapped around her and slung her into the nearest wall.  Grunting, McKenna fell to the floor and Booth picked up his gun, despite the pain in his foot. 

The man let out a shout and grabbed his gun, pointing it aimlessly and pulled the trigger, firing multiple rounds.

"NO!" Shouted McKenna and she grabbed her gun.

The man that pushed her shot his weapon and pointed at her.

She blinked away again before he could shoot her. She appeared again and started shooting her gun. Multiple bullets along with hers went off and her eyes widened again when she saw President Lincoln go down, a bullet in his head, and John Wilkes Booth lying dead on the ground, his head bleeding. "NO!"

The mysterious man she was after still alive with the smoking gun in his hand. He'd shot Lincoln by mistake when she disappeared and ended up shooting Booth on the process.

Before he could try and shoot her again, McKenna blinked and appeared behind him. She shot him in the back of the head, his blood splattering on her face. The screams of the people on the theater were loud but McKenna's hearing was fuzzy. All she could hear was the sound of her jagged breaths.

Lincoln and Henry Rathbone were dead, the original assassinator was dead, and the man McKenna was after was now dead. Though she killed him, she failed the mission, and now the timeline was messed up. She failed the mission. McKenna never failed her missions.

She dropped to her knees and touched her forehead, the blood transferring, and she panicked again.nHow could this have happened? McKenna was skillful. She was smart. She trained for these kinds of things. But now she was failure and she would have to face the consequences of the Commission.