(no subject)
No time for thought, just action.
He walks over and kneels beside her, inspecting the cuts on her forearms.
The slits on her wrists aren’t deep enough to have caused any real damage but she’s lost enough blood to turn her skin pale.
“I’ve gotta stop the bleeding.”
He rummages through the bathroom drawers and beneath the sink he finds a tourniquet.
Taking the straight razor she used to cut herself open, he slices the tubing in two.
Quickly now, he wraps each tourniquet around her arm, tight. He uses the bathroom towels to clean up as much blood as possible. Her eyes slightly roll open as his fingers check the pulse on her neck.
It’s a slow running rhythm but it’s better than nothing.
Beautiful lips purse forward as she breathes in staccato breaths.
He grabs her from her underarms and throws her over his shoulders. Though she’s light, she’s deadweight and difficult to carry.
She breathes heavy resting on his shoulder and Martirio turns to exit the bathroom. He holds his breath with this angel on his shoulder, slowly approaching the stairs.
He peers over the stairs, looking down at Vegas and Bones still passed out in the living room.
Jaw shivering, eyes twitching, he begins to choke up in fear.
Like a little boy standing alone in a field, he feels helpless, hopeless.
He losses his numbness, and closing his eyes, his mind begins to drift.
Doubt, panic, guilt, all hit him like a ton of bricks.
Mary lets out a gasp and a groan, and Martirio snaps back to reality.
His eyes open as his hand reaches for the railing.
Step by step by cautious step, they descend down the stairs.
Quietly, they cross the boys passed out in the living room.
The door leading to the backyard looks a million miles away to Martirio who keeps his pace. The door is his salvation; everything will be over in just a few steps. Everything he had to go through today and the rest of his life will be over and done with if he can only reach the door.
Mary is still breathing softly, still holding on to life. Her blood trickles slightly down her forearms and down Martirio’s back.
Crossing the refrigerator, he begins to smile in relief.
“Stay with me, Mary. We’re almost out of here,” he whispers just beneath his breath.
And with those words comes the sound of a van door sliding open, the back doors popping ajar and footsteps in the driveway.
Vegas, his eyes open slightly, having been disturbed by the sound in the front-yard. Bones rolls over again, only half-awake to the world.
Then comes such a familiar sound, the cocking of a gun, the calm before the storm. And without a moment’s hesitation, the door blows open right off its hinges.
Martirio and Mary hit the deck in the kitchen.
Bones’ eyes pop open.
Vegas comes to life with a gasp.
Bullets pop the glass window next to the front door, hitting the walls, breaking picture frames, and obliterating stationery everywhere.
Bones rolls off the couch and pulls a gun, aiming out the front window. He fires three shots before taking another. Vegas tries to run to the kitchen but gets mowed down by handgun fire bursting through the front door. His blood shoots out his chest and lands a few feet in front of him. As he’s falling, a bullet enters and exits through his throat, and so ends his life.
Martirio looks back to see Vegas’ lifeless eyes staring straight at him, as Bones continues firing at the front of the house.
Then, the back door swings open to the kitchen and there’s a man in a ski mask aiming a handgun at Bones. As he begins firing, his own men shooting through the front of the house knock him over with a handful of bullets. His blood spills on Martirio and Mary.
A few of his shots go off, sailing past Bones’ head who turns to see Martirio and Mary on the kitchen floor.
Martirio crawls over and begins dragging Mary out the backyard, grabbing the man’s handgun as he exits the house.
As he kicks the door shut, he can hear Bones screaming his name in between the shots.
“MARTIRIO!”
Martirio continues out the back and rests himself on the back of house, still dragging Mary.
He peeks around the side of the house and spies another man rushing to come to the backyard. Martirio cocks the gun in his hand, fires two shots into the man’s chest and his legs fly out from under him.
Dead.
As he rounds the corner of the house, things begin to quiet down.
Bones continues screaming out Martirio’s name and a few shots pop off.
Martirio crosses the man he shot who lays lifeless on the gravel.
He continues dragging Mary to the front of the house and everything goes quiet.
As he peeks around the corner to the front of the house, he sees all the men packing back into the van, the door sliding closed, the back doors closing.
The van reverses out the driveway, before honking twice.
Martirio drags Mary to the driveway, and inside the van is the Devil, staring straight at Martirio.
Before the van pulls away, the Devil nods his head at Martirio and the tires screech, pulling the van forward and off into the sunlight breaking on the horizon.