Chapter 36 #2
The scent of gasoline and tire smoke play tricks on my brain. My fingers twitch as the sticky pool of blood creeps on the white tiled floor, reminding me so much of what it felt like to have Mama’s fresh blood on my hands as she faded away. Warm, coppery, slick and wrong.
Run. Run. Run!
A hand rips into my arm, snatching me off kilter.
“Nati! We have to go!” Sylvia screams in my ear, her voice raw and eyes wild.
She came back for me.
Matias is too busy to notice.
He’s taking cover behind a low crate, his eyes focused on the gunfight. He can’t leave now. And even when he had a chance to go…he made his choice.
It wasn’t me.
I beg silently with each beat of my heart for him to just look at me. To acknowledge me. Us. To just pretend to consider leaving for me.
Something cracks in my chest when it finally sinks in that he will never choose me.
The sight snaps me into action.
My nails scratch on the floor as I scramble to my feet, tripping after Sylvia as she yanks me with an astounding amount of strength. We scurry from one stack of crates to the next, passing the three SUVs.
My breath freezes in my throat when I realize Papa’s men are using the vehicles for cover.
“We’ll have to go on foot.” I tell Sylvia shakily, silently agreeing with her when she curses under her breath.
The men aren’t going to stop until one side wins and the other dies. I have to make sure we clear out of here before that happens.
It doesn’t take long to find the switches that control the massive motor bay door. The metal door groans to life, the motor on top of the garage door humming loudly as the bay doors slowly open.
No one reacts to the sound, and I breathe a sigh of relief when we squeeze through the opening door.
The humid afternoon air engulfs us immediately, the air cloying and thick. Sylvia clutches at me, her damp hand slipping in mine as we skid onto a dirt row.
I struggle between keeping up with my sister and catching my breath, my gaze flying as I scramble to place where we are on the property.
I’ve never been here. Where does this lead?
“Sylvia, wait.” I wait until we’re almost a quarter of a mile away from the distant pops to slow my sister to a stop. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. But we can’t stop. Either Papa will kill us, or we’re going to rot in jail for something that’s not our fault. Keep going.”
I want to protest, but a rustle of leaves from the direction of the motor bay catches my attention.
“Natalia!” Papa roars, the frayed edge of his voice locking up my knees.
“Fuck!” Sylvia says. “Go, go, go!”
Twigs crunch beneath our feet as we run. Papa’s footsteps behind us reverberate all the way to me, the ground trembling as he sprints towards us.
He doesn’t speak again. But the bullets start flying, and I can’t quite figure out where they’re coming from anymore.
Sylvia screams and skids mid-stride, both of us nearly going down in a tangle of sweaty limbs.
We have to run faster.
I push myself, pumping my arms, my lungs burning, a stitch pulling at my side. But I have to keep going. I leap, running faster than I have before, spotting a patch of gravel and trying to course-correct.
But it’s too late.
I strike the patch of small pebbles with the heel of my foot, skidding a few inches and throwing me off balance.
A shot rings out in the distance.
This one is different. Like a clap of thunder, the air trembles around us. I don’t have time to stop, because a bowling ball punches me right in the center of my chest.
I skid out and go down.
Gravel bites at my hands, my forearm throbbing with a punishing burn. But nothing compares to the breath-stealing throbbing in my chest. Like a hand punching through my chest and squeezing my heart, my breath stutters. The raw, blunt edge of pain pushes up. Cold and merciless.
No matter how many ragged, uneven breaths I swallow down, I can’t seem to catch my breath. It hurts.
Everywhere.
Foreign hands grab at me, rough and demanding. I hate them and love them at the same time, but the feeling gets easier when I see it’s Sylvia.
Her mouth is open in a ragged scream, eyes shining with tears, but I can’t quite hear her. The only thing I can hear is distant ringing and the painful thump thump thump of my heart.
“NATALIA!” Finally, her voice echoes into focus. I follow her gaze, cold dread snagging in my stomach when I follow her gaze.
The sickening bloom of scarlet blood trickles from the center of my chest. In the back of my head, I know I’ve been shot. But even though my chest is on fire, it doesn’t feel…real. I’m watching someone else bleed out.
The blood is just as warm as I remember, and it isn’t long before it soaks my shirt, and icy hands pull at my feet, the caress of death coaxing me to the other side.
“HELP!”
Sylvia screams like a banshee. Begging the trees, the sticky summer air, the sun-doused orange clouds above us for help.
I reach out and steady her hand with what little strength I can muster, pasting a wan smile on my face. Even if she summons a miracle…
Help won’t be here soon enough.