Page 98 of Sundowners
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CHAPTER THIRTY
Roman
I’d readaccounts of people awakening during surgery and having to witness their flesh being cut, their innards rearranged, having to see it happening but being unable to speak, to move, that helpless feeling of pain being inflicted while you’re unable to stop it.
It was one of my greatest fears. Thankfully, I’d never had to go under the knife for any reason. I’d had broken bones set, my head injury healed after months in a dark room with no screen time.
I didn’t think I’d ever heal from this.
This person they called The Source was literally turning me inside out. I was forced to watch the blood leave my body and be absorbed by them. I hadn’t agreed to this. I sensed the being was frantic as they attempted to complete their ritual, as if there was a monster chasing them or death was right on their heels. Perhaps that’s what it all meant. If The Source was unable to take in the blood, they would lose power andthey’dbe the one absorbed.
I tried to hold on, but I was slipping away, my life being squeezed and pulled out of my very pores. Time passed in a surreal manner as I was treated to some of my less-than-stellar memories, moments when I’d treated my life like garbage. Who knew that life flashing before your eyes was less nostalgic and more punitive?
Shame washed over me for all the times I made my lola worry, and for not being there when my parents were slaughtered while I was out smoking weed and running old ladies off the sidewalks on my skateboard. I was ashamed that I’d been unable to protect Bernadette and Emmanuel from these cruel people.
And then it was over and the memories pulled away from me like a TV flickering off, leaving me in darkness. Cold darkness. Shaky, windy darkness. Crackling sounds and a loud rumble filled my ears, and I thought,well, this must be what it feels like to get sucked into Hell.
But then I opened my eyes and saw the redwoods thrashing overhead, and I felt the bits of debris pelting my skin like fingernails on a sunburn.
“Roman, stay with me!”
Reynaldo’s voice filled my head like so many times before, but instead of chiding me, he sounded terrified, desperate even. I guess for once the mess I was in wasn’t due to my fuck-up. Maybe upon my death, I was no longer Junior with a chip on his shoulder, but finally Roman Emmanuel San Angelo the Second, a man capable of standing on his own two feet. Or nearly that man.
Another voice shouted over the din, this one tugging at my heart.
“There is another way, you don’t have to do this! Please!”
Creed.The agony in his voice filled me with rage. I’d sworn to him he would be protected, that he could trust us, but he’d been right. We couldn’t have known what this being was capable of. Even Creed hadn’t been sure himself.
“Guardian Creed, you must let this take place. Please do not force my hand—”
“Creed,” Stephen said. I will not hesitate to end you. Do not get in our way.”
“Stephen, step back.” The Source stepped in between I have doubts about your sincerity. We will discuss them when this is over. I won’t have your influence ruining this ritual.” The Source flung their hand and Stephen stumbled backwards, but remained standing. He shook off the force and headed after Creed once more, but The Source spoke again, their voice reverberating in my chest. “You are not fit to be a part of this ritual. If you cannot banish this hatred from your heart, You’ll force me to punish you.”
The Source placed a hand on his chest and he sucked in air. He choked and began coughing violently. His face paled in the moonlight and he appeared to…Agee. Right before our eyes.
“What have you done?” Stephen held his chest, his eyes wide.” He charged The Source, but Creed shoved him back. Stephen’s loss of focus allowed others to intervene.
Vanessa tackled Stephen and nearly had him face down in the dirt. Somehow Creed’s interruption and Stephen’s behavior had allowed Vanessa a brief respite from the mind-control or whatever was interfering with her ability to move. He caught her with an elbow to the face, but when he tried to get up, he had to bend over and catch his breath.
Vanessa flipped off her back and landed on her feet, delivering some blows to the head that further incapacitated him. The two of them struggled, and thank goodness my tita was highly trained in martial arts. Stephen grew weaker by the minute. When it seemed that she’d gained control, she shouted, “You’re under arrest—”
Stephen threw her off of him, and she scrambled to regain the upper hand. She dove for him once more and managed to get him in a sort of sleeper hold, one I’d seen her use on tito before. Stephen’s eyes went wide as he gasped for air.
“You don’t understand, let me go!” He begged and pleaded, his voice straining under her hold. “Let me go or you’ll—”
“I’ve already seen you threaten my wife, son and nephew. Enough with your bullshit!”
He protested more, seemingly shocked she was able to subdue him, but when she yanked her arm tighter, he passed out. His body went slack and one of the other cops took over and pulled his arms back farther and secured them with a zip-tie.
“Try that scary shit, asshole,” she shouted over his motionless body. “You have no idea what I’m capable of,” she growled, giving him one final push as she stood and waved over Detective Sterling. Only then did she run to her wife and family.
At that point I was fading fast, but when I realized my family was safe, I turned my head and saw the FBI agent I’d met holding The Source as Creed pleaded with them. The other cops detained the rest of Stephen’s people. They didn’t seem to fight back once Stephen was out of commission. Vanessa escorted Tita Bernadette and Emmanuel away to her car.
“Em? Bernadette?”
