Page 14 of Sinister Savior

He wraps his arms around me and coos in my ear, “It’s okay. Hey… shh, I’m here. It’s okay.” His arms feel like comfort and strength, but the scent of death is on him. “We have to go now.”

I allow him to lead me into the room where two men lie on the ground. One of them gasps for air as he clutches his throat. The other is lifeless,sprawled across the carpet at an angle and I have to climb over him to get to the door. Mario throws a pair of shorts at me, and I shimmy into them as he stuffs the remainder of our things into my bag, including my shoes, which he carries as he grabs my hand and yanks me toward the door.

“We don’t have time, Alice,” he barks as I look around for anything I may have dropped or that we may be forgetting.

“But my phone?—”

My protest is met with a harder yank to my arm, and I’m on the sidewalk looking back at two dying men. Two. Mario took on two men at once, probably killing them both, all for me. All to keep me safe.

“I’ll buy you a new one. Let’s get out of here.”

We move swiftly, me limping at every stone I step on. He’s barefoot too, all the belongings we have in the world shoved into a duffel bag with Tom’s name sewn into the handle. His shirt hangs open, his belt buckle jiggling with each hasty step, and I can barely keep up. It’s so dark I can’t see what I’m stepping on, and I’m certain I’m bleeding now too—or the blood from that ratty green carpet is being tracked everywhere we go.

The church van is a welcome sight, but when we get there I see the tires are all flat, slashed so it’s unusable. It doesn’t stop Mario, however. He turns and shoves the bag into my hand and barks, “Turn away or close your eyes.” Before I can even think, he brings his elbow down on the passenger window of a small brown sedan parked behind the church van.

“My God… you’re stealing?” I gasp, shaking my head.

“Do you want to die tonight?” Mario’s stern glare scares me. He’s not threatening me. He’s waking me up to the threat, even as the alarm in this car begins to tear through the night’s silence. “Get in.” He reaches through the window and unlocks the car, then opens the door for me.

I have no choice but to go along with him. Those men will have back-up coming soon, and then I’ll be in real shit. I have to go with him, theft and all. I have no other protector. So, I gingerly brush the broken glass off the seat, and through my tears, I sink into the car and shut the door, hugging my bag to my chest as he streaks off down the road, wires dangling from the ignition.

“Fuck,” he screams, punching the steering wheel. “How the fuck did they find us so fast?”

I tremble, staring into the darkness as he checks the rearview mirror and then whips around a corner. A few cars pass us going the opposite direction, and it seems to aggravate him. I watch them through the back window as they slam on their brakes and begin turning around, but before they can get up to speed, we’re on the highway. The speedometer reads in excess of one hundred miles per hour, and I close my eyes and cry.

How is this my life?

And how will Mario get me out of this now?

10

MARIO

Idon’t know whether Alice is sleeping due to emotional exhaustion or she’s passed out due to shock, but her eyes are shut and she doesn’t even open them as I turn off the freeway into a small neighborhood deep in the heart of LA. I know this place and these people well. It’s my old stomping grounds, a sliver of the city where my brother and I ran things for the longest time. I have no plan right now. The motel was supposed to be our refuge for a while longer while I figured things out.

Now I’m on the lam and I have their car. I can’t stay here, especially with their car, because I know Paolo. This thing probably has GPS in it and he’s tracking my every move. So, I pull up next to a beat-up Toyota and stop. The lights in the homes on this street are all off. I shut the car down and the lights off and nudge Alice, who doesn’t stir.

We have to get rid of this car, and the only way to do that is to lift another one. There is a part of me that wants to feel bad for these people—the part of me that masqueraded as a priest the past few years. But there is another part of me that has no care in the world. I was made for this, raised in it, bred to thrive on being a criminal.Besides, they have insurance to take care of shit like this. Why should I care?

I step out of the car I know to be one of my brother’s and gently shut the door so Alice remains sleeping for now. If she sees me doing this, she’ll throw a fit and wake the neighborhood. She doesn’t know the car we stole earlier, the one we’ve been driving for the past forty-five minutes, belongs to my brother. Who’d have suspected that? Except me. I know that goon parked right behind our getaway vehicle just to mock me.

The night is calm, only the sound of crickets over the distant hum of the city. It’s never silent here. There’s always a hum of white noise in the background, which serves to cover the sounds of my footsteps on the pavement. I managed to cram my feet into my shoes as I drove, though it wasn’t easy. Alice, however, remains clad in only my T-shirt and shorts. She’s so vulnerable, so dependent on me.

I’m in luck as I reach for the door handle and open the driver’s side door. They left their car unlocked for me, and because it’s old enough to have a key, not one of those fancy push-button ignitions, it’ll be easy to hotwire, which I do in less than a minute. When the car is running, I move back to our previously stolen vehicle to get our things and Alice. She is groggy and still emotional as I lead her from one car to the other, rubbing her eyes and quietly resisting my efforts to get her to safety.

I open the door for her and let her climb in, and she whimpers and curls up into a ball. I know now it’s the emotion that has her knocked out. She’s suffering from a slight case of shock, and who wouldn’t be? She’s witnessed so much death recently, I’m surprised she’s not a mental case.

I pull out in the new car and know I have to put as much distance between me and that car as possible, and as I do, I call the one person I know I can count on.

“Yo, Mario, it’s late.” Ervine sounds irritated that I’ve woken him up.

“It’s actually early,” I correct him. “I need five guys now. I’ll be ready in forty minutes. I want them at the corner of Wright and Folkerth. Tell them to come heavy and be ready for a fight. I have to go see my brother.” I’m not mincing my words because I need people who aren’t hesitant, who are ready for action.

“Done. Where you at?” I hear him yawn and then I hear shuffling in his room.

“I’m going to Our Lady of Resurrection. Just don’t say a word.” The old church is run by a man named Father Thomas, a compatriot from back in the day who also got out when he could, except he’s not going to be sucked back into the mess the way I have been. What I do know is that he’s trustworthy and I can leave Alice with him for a time.

“Got it, Boss. They’ll be there.”

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