Cuarto Paso: La Deuda de Sangre

                                        

                                              
Trying to retreat from the police and get back to the safe house with a knife sticking out of his body armor and digging into his back was not an experience that Reaper was thrilled to add to his collection of memories. It seemed that not only had Logan and his Mafia Men set all the gangs of Madrid after the Barrio Boys, but had even gone so far as pay off as many policia as possible to get these men and women hunted down.  Which meant that not only were the cuatro trying to avoid any possible ambushes awaiting them ahead, but they were trying their best not to let the dogs called cops on their tails catch up either.
                              
It’s a very hard thing to flee with caution. Carlitos in these moments revealed just exactly why he was the uncontested leader of the Barrio Boys and why well over a hundred men and their women looked to him without hesitation. Even as he scanned the way ahead and took them on a quick but circuitous route to the safe house Reaper had been living in, he was on the cell phone calling out to all the Barrio, letting them know to go to ground. And stay in large numbers when possible. He was scrambling the whole nest, emptying the known safe houses and getting the groups split evenly to the unknown ones, sending as many of the innocents out of the city as possible. Not that there were many innocents involved in the world of the Barrio Boys, but no one wanted to risk their families in this.
                              
Reaper was bleeding, in pain and starting to feel the battering his body took, and he would rather endure a hundred times worse than this rather than make the call he was about to make. Because it was time he got his own family out of the city as well. The cell phone in his hand kept slipping and jostling about as his grip was slicked with sweat and blood. But Reaper never dropped it, even as they had to bolt down the street.
                              
The first ring sounded like a pell of doom, like the gavel of a judge slamming down, sealing his fate. Malcolm’s throat suddenly felt sand paper dry as he tried to figure out how he could tell his family to run for safety without entirely admitting all the horrible things going on in his world. The second ring was nearly swallowed by the hammer of their feet slamming down against the asphalt of the streets they ran up. The citizenry dove out of the way of this four friends, the blood leaking out of all of them, the murderous rage on Carlitos’ face and the dead acceptance in West’s eyes all warned them without words to simply avoid all contact. The third ring went by and Malcolm started to fear that it was too late. That his lifestyle had already cost his family in blood once again. The fourth ring started and he felt the bottom of his stomach drop out as they rounded the corner to the street of the safe house and found it in flames. The siren of a fire truck had been ignored until this moment and this time Malcolm really did almost drop the phone. The truck flew up the street and firemen Malcolm recognized spilled out to battle the flames.
                              
 If the Mafia Men knew about this safe house, they knew far too much and the lack of contact with his family killed something inside. Reaper swore to himself that if his family was at all hurt he would kill, and gladly. And then he started to pray.  The fifth ring cut off as finally, someone answered the phone.
                              
“Vega residence.” Malcolm’s father’s voice was gruff with tiredness. And Reaper felt  shameless tears of relief sting his eyes.
                              
“Padre, get everyone, get out. They’re coming after all of us. They’ve hit the safe house I’ve been hiding in. I don’t know how much they know.” Malcolm just admitted it all, hoping to god that his father would have a plan. His family had been so innocent; they had no clue how to plan and certainly were not prepared for this kind of thing. He was upending their world in a way that Adrianna’s death had never achieved and Reaper stuffed the guilt down to where he kept his dying hopes and dreams. Because at this moment he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to survive this.
                              
His father was silent as Reaper stared at his fellow firefighters battling to put out the house he had been skulking in. Despite seeing the inhabitability of their destination, the four friends continued to walk slowly forward, out of options because there was nothing else close they could make it to in their current conditions without drawing all kinds of the wrong attention. 
                              
“We’ll be at Abuelo’s. When it is safe, meet us there. And we WILL talk.” Malcolm’s father growled, his tone furious and holding meanings and tones that made the boy Malcolm once was shudder inside. His father had the best control of temper that he had seen and it wasn’t often that Reaper was given a view of where he inherited this monster inside from. But he somehow knew that for the first time in a long time, he had to fear family. His father wouldn’t hate him forever, but that wouldn’t stop the elder Vega from beating the daylights out of him for endangering his family like this either. And Malcolm would take every blow gladly as long as his family was alright. 
                              
Reaper hung up without saying goodbye and looked at Carlitos who was still cursing a blue streak. “They’re getting clear. I think I have an idea. That’s my shift up there.”  It was only the greatest stroke of luck that Reaper’s own volunteer team was here to put out the fire, but these men had adopted Malcolm into their ranks and accepted his need to disappear without judgment. He was hoping that the few men who had similar pasts to his own would have a suggestion now. 
                              
They did. The moment his fire team spotted Malcolm, bloody, battered and clearly not in a good place; they swarmed him. Half stayed to combat the flames, the other half ushered the four injured friends into the fire truck and out of the eyes of witnesses. Because the policia would be arriving shortly, but for right now, it was just this team. 
                              
“This is going to hurt but I have to remove the knife.” Malcolm was warned a moment before the knife was pulled free and he was pulled out of the vest to get stitched up. “Hold still or I’m going to jam you in the eye.” Maya was being informed at the same time as another man tried to tape the gash above her eye shut. West was the least injured blood wise but his broken wrist was being splinted and taped and Carlitos was talking rapidly to the former Barrio Boy that was now the chief of this fire team. 
                              
The heat inside the truck, the anxiety, blood loss and adrenaline was taking its toll on Reaper. He could hear a high pitched ringing in his ears, the throb of his heart beat but strangely the sounds of the men and Maya right next to him sounded impossibly far away. His vision was grayed out on the edges but not completely washed out and he was fighting against the urge to throw up and then pass out. He could feel the hands of his friend holding a gauze to the stab wound in his back and the pressure of the dressing winding around to hold it in place, but he couldn’t remember who it was helping him right now. Tired and dead eyes looked up to see Carlitos staring back at him and both men had the same look. Like it was time to end this by any means possible. And that the other two of their group needed to be hidden away first. 
                              
“Alright. West, take Maya to your father’s tell him whatever you have to, just get inside and keep her safe.” Carlitos growled. Maya of course started to object when Carlitos shut her up with a fierce kiss. 
                              
They were crammed in the back of a fire truck with four firefighters helping patch them all closed. There were gangs out there after them, to kill and not just beat bloody. The police and ambulances were just as likely to be a threat as help. And Carlitos was trying to send his lover away and she would fight him every step of the way if she could. So it was the perfect moment for the gang leader to do something entirely unexpected and perfectly necessary. He pulled the chain that never left his neck off and pulled the simple but excruciatingly sentimental ring he carried there off of it. Malcolm knew what was coming next, and even though he felt pain, nausea and like passing out, he was also feeling something in his chest that he never expected; happiness. 
                              
“Maya, I want you as my wife. But you have to survive to do that. Go with West and I’ll get you when it’s safe.” Carlitos said as he grabbed Maya’s hand and slid the ring on.  It effectively shut her up. And was the most inopportune moment for Malcolm to lose against his growing nausea as he threw up as quietly as possible and then passed out.