Flanked Read online

  “If I didn’t think it was smart, I wouldn’t have given the rifles to them. You’re an awful marksman, and I have the VICE-shot.”

  “It looks like a toy. No one’s going to be intimidated by that thing. And I don’t understand why you have it on stun instead of kill.”

  “Enough. I made a plan and it’s fine. Are you going to be able to play your part, or would you rather stay here and second-guess every decision I make?”

  Something dark flared in Flix’s eyes, but then he sighed, and when he spoke, his voice was calm and quiet. “I’m with you, and I don’t have a better plan. I want Marcus safe, and I want Devin back. He’s been a” — Flix squirmed and made a face, like the words were hard to say — “friend to me.” He laughed, though he still looked uneasy. “Who knew he’d turn out to be better than you?”

  Joe laughed, too, because what was he supposed to say to that? “Let’s go bring him back to us.”

  ***

  They approached the greenhouse from the south, crouching low and moving slowly. The idea was that any guards posted at the entrances would be less likely to see them if they came from the side of the building. The transparent film that comprised the greenhouse’s walls provided a clear view inside. Dim light emanated from the solar-powered heat lamps the gardeners used to nurture seedlings. No one was in there, as far as Joe could tell.

  The two guards, a boy and a girl, one at each entrance, couldn’t have been much older than Flix. Joe hadn’t been expecting Cadia or Aria or any of Sanders’s top-line soldiers, but he had thought the guards would be more formidable than these kids. He palmed the VICE-shot and quelled his guilt over what he was about to do. The gun was set to stun. He wasn’t hurting these kids long-term.

  The VICE-shot worked from about thirty feet, but they needed to get as close as possible. If Joe stunned one of these kids from a distance, it’d take him longer to get into the greenhouse and increase the likelihood someone would notice the unconscious guard and raise the alarm.

  The guard at the eastern door, the girl, walked a short path back and forth. From the way she yawned, Joe guessed she was trying to keep herself awake. He kept his eyes on the girl and put up three fingers in Flix’s direction. When the girl turned to the north, he lowered a finger. She stopped and rolled her head around her shoulders. Come on. The girl stretched and started to move again. When she turned back to the south, Joe folded another finger over. The moment her back turned again, Joe and Flix broke for the door.

  Ten feet away, the girl whirled and pointed her rifle at them. Joe fired the VICE-shot, and the girl froze, her eyes wide and surprised, not even scared. The pulse from the stunner only lasted a half-second, but it felt like an eternity. Then the girl was falling, and Joe raced forward and caught her.

  He laid her on the ground, then he and Flix slipped inside the greenhouse right as the other guard burst through the western door, rifle at the ready.

  “Who’s there?” the kid shouted.

  “Don’t shoot, okay?” Flix called. “I’m gonna stand up, but I don’t want to die. There’s a girl out here who fainted, and I need help with her.”

  Hidden behind a bed of okra plants, Joe watched with grudging admiration as Flix stood, arms raised, calm and confident.

  “I heard a noise,” the boy said.

  “Me, too,” Flix said. “It sounded almost like the hum from the drone that dropped the bombs. I think that’s why she fainted.” He gestured toward the back door. “Can you come help me with her? She probably needs to go see Dr. Suarez.”

  Tentative footfalls sounded muffled by the tarps laid out to keep mud from getting everywhere. Three. Four. A fifth. How many steps would it take before the kid was close enough for Joe to get a clear opportunity with his stunner?

  “I know who you are.” The boy took another step. “You’re one of those guys staying with Navi and Liliana. Have you really, um, done the, you know, the whoring?”

  Flix huffed. “Yes.”

  Two steps closer. “They say you and your brother —”

  “Shut up, kid. Are you going to help me with this girl or not?”

  “I was just asking,” the boy mumbled and shuffled forward.

  Joe aimed in the direction of the boy’s movement and stood. He fired before the kid even looked his way.

  Flix didn’t move, just watched the boy fall.

  Joe rushed to him and jammed the VICE-shot into his hand. “Keep watch.” He scrambled past Flix and shoved the table off the plywood trap door he’d first seen days ago. Devin was just feet away. Joe felt it. In moments, they’d be together, and Devin would be safe. Joe yanked at the plywood and stared down into the darkness.

  “Papi?”

  A low groan answered, and Joe dropped to his belly to get a better look. The earthen room was dug around ten feet deep. Wooden bins filled with vegetables lined the walls. Cool, stale air tickled Joe’s nose. Nothing moved, and for a moment, Joe panicked and worried he’d guessed wrong.

  Joe said a silent prayer. “Devin? Peter? Can you hear me? It’s Joe.”

  A scuffling sound came from a corner, and Peter crawled into view. He tilted his dirty, tear-streaked face toward Joe and whimpered. “It’s bright.”

  “You’ll get accustomed to it. Is Devin with you?”

  Peter glanced behind him. “He’s here. They drugged him or something. He’s so big, and I hurt my elbow when they dropped me down here; I can’t move him, and I can’t wake him up. He’s breathing, though.”

  The choking worry Joe had been fighting all day returned. He needed Devin out of there, needed to see that he was okay. At the same time, Joe wasn’t sure how he’d retrieve an unconscious Devin, let alone leave town quickly. Why hadn’t he considered that Devin or Peter could be incapacitated?

  “There’s a ladder.” Flix stood at the edge of the opening, his feet next to Joe’s head. His big toe stuck out of a hole in his shoe. “Outside. Against the side of the greenhouse.”

  “We’ll be right back, Peter,” Joe said. “I’ll climb down and help you with Devin. Try again to wake him up.”

  Joe pushed himself to standing and followed Flix to the door. He peered outside and found it deserted. The female guard still lay unconscious on the ground. One of the Sons was bound to come by at some point. If not a Son, some townsperson who’d tell the Sons something was up in the greenhouse. Joe had to hurry.

  He found the ladder perched on the northern face of the greenhouse. Powdery aluminum, long and awkward, it wobbled in Joe’s hands as he rushed back inside. He lowered the ladder into the root cellar and had one foot on the rung when Flix swore.

  Illuminated in the solar lamp one of his sycophants carried, Sanders called out, “Come out here in the open, boys. Let’s have us a talk.”

  Joe peered into the root cellar. Peter’s nervous, pinched face was all he saw. “Stay there. Keep trying to wake Devin. I’ll be back.”

  Peter nodded. Joe put his hand on Flix’s shoulder, and they walked outside.

  “Nice night for a stroll, isn’t it?” Sanders said. Eight of his gang stood with him, including Aria. Her blank eyes and large gun were focused on Flix. The others in the group had their rifles pointed at Joe. None of them were the Sons who’d been showing Joe respect.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Flix snapped. “You put our friends in a hole in the ground, you sick son of a bitch.” His words came out breathless and shaky, but when Joe glanced over at him, looking for the VICE-shot, Flix’s hands were steady and the gun was aimed at Sanders.

  “Shut up and let the grownups talk, plastic boy,” Aria said. As she sneered at Flix, her eyes were colder than Joe could have imagined.

  “Thanks, darlin’,” Sanders said. “Now, I know you’ve been messed up, living the way you have, and I’ve tried to make allowances for that, give you time to figure yourselves out. But you can’t be taking our prizes.”

  Fury seared through Joe. Devin was not some sort of object, some thing. He took two quic
k steps toward Sanders before Aria’s gun whipped around and trained on him. Joe stopped, but he wasn’t done. “I will not let you hurt him.”

  The Sons laughed, loud and raucous. Joe could slam into one, maybe take out another if he shoved the first the right way. Could Flix take out the rest before they could get a shot off? No. Flix had terrible aim. Damn it. Joe should have held on to the gun. He had to get them out of this, get Devin out of that hole. Keep him from getting sent back to Boggs.

  Joe raised his hands. “Take me instead. You said I’m worth more. I’ll go without a fight. Just let my friends leave peacefully.”

  “What are you doing?” Flix hissed.

  Joe didn’t turn to him. “I need you all safe, Flix. You and Devin, together you can get north, keep Marcus and Peter in one piece.”

  “You’re in no position to bargain, son,” Sanders said, his wide grin and yellowed teeth nauseating. “I can take all of you down to your old boss if I want to. Collect all the money. But you need to learn. The white people, they aren’t your friends. They don’t like you, won’t accept you. They take all that’s good and throw us away like corn husks. But we’re the golden kernels, boy, strong and packed with life. They are the rot, the garbage. We’re going to rise up and show them all that we have what it takes to survive in this world.” He pulled a pistol from his pocket and aimed it at Flix. “So you get a chance, José, you and the one with the crutches. But I’ve changed my mind, we are not changing the world by associating with no goddamned gays.” He huffed a laugh and nodded at the gun in Flix’s hand. “It’ll even be self-defense.”

  Sanders and Flix raised their guns at the same time. Joe shoved a shoulder into the nearest Son and grabbed for his gun. A crack sounded, loud but from far away. Most of the Sons turned, but Sanders stayed frozen. Blood drained from his face, and it poured out of the hole in his chest. As he fell, he shot Joe.

  FIFTEEN

  The force of the impact knocked Joe on his ass, stripped the air from his lungs. He touched his shoulder, saw his fingers come away bloody. His shoulder didn’t hurt, just felt wrong. He gasped for breath, and another shot rang out, closer this time. Louder.

  Adrenaline and old memories pushed Joe into action. He grabbed Flix’s legs and pulled him down, climbed over him and wrested the VICE-shot from his hand. “Stay down. Stay quiet.”

  Flix had his head turned to the side in the dirt, his eyes wide and darting, and Joe caught his brief nod.

  Joe looked around. The Sons had their backs turned, peering into the darkness for the source of the gunshots. Behind Joe, the greenhouse offered the only escape. As soon as more gunfire erupted, and Joe was sure it would — violence always escalated — he’d grab Flix, they’d race back into the greenhouse, free Devin and Peter, and run.

  “I think I see someone over by Miz Cadia’s place,” one of the Sons said.

  Feet shuffled in the dirt, then Aria’s sharp voice rang out. “Stop, idiots. We don’t want to fire at anything that moves. What if it’s someone innocent?”

  “Shoot, girl,” a deep voice said. “Anyone with any sense was on their bellies in their houses after the first bullet.”

  “Guys.” Another voice. Lighter. Younger. Scared. “He’s dead. Sanders is dead. I...I don’t want to die. I...”

  “Leave your gun and go,” Aria said.

  From the sound of things, the boy was walking away, which was good, because it left one less person who could shoot Joe or Flix. But if the shooting didn’t start up again soon, one of the Sons was bound to remember what they’d come there for.

  Joe put his lips against Flix’s ear. “When I say go, run through the greenhouse and don’t stop until you’ve crossed the border. Wait for us there.”

  Flix shook his head violently.

  “I’ll get Marcus,” Joe whispered. “I swear.”

  “Family. Won’t leave you.”

  Damn it. Joe could feel Flix shaking underneath him, knew he was terrified. Joe didn’t want the kid to be loyal and brave right now. He wanted him to be alive.

  Two more shots rang out from far away, and a Son hit the ground with a heavy thud.

  “Now! Go!” Joe hissed, springing off Flix’s back and pulling him upright.

  A girl’s voice cracked open the night. “Wait!”

  Sadie.

  No, no, no.

  The thick, leaden sound of the Sons’ rifles discharging sent ice through Joe’s veins.

  “No!” Aria screamed. Kept screaming.

  “Oh, God,” the deep-voiced Son said. “I think we shot her sister.”

  Despite every instinct that told him to escape, Joe stopped and turned. A body lay on the ground fifty yards away. Aria ran toward it, her gun swinging wildly at her waist. From the other direction came another runner, tall and limping. Navarro.

  This had to end. Joe raised the VICE-shot, and a rifle discharged from somewhere in the darkness, the bullet whizzing past him and ripping a hole in the greenhouse wall. He pushed Flix into a crouch and eased toward the building. The farther he was from the Sons, the easier it would be to stun them without getting himself or Flix killed.

  “There!” the deep-voiced Son shouted. “To the right.” He shot once, twice, and an answering shot followed. He fired again and again, and this time got nothing in return. “Yeah, motherfucker!” he yelled. “Shoot at me while you’re standing out there on crutches, you dumb son of a bitch, I’ll put you down!”

  Joe barely caught Flix as he lunged toward the man. Every nerve in his wounded shoulder screamed now, on fire and straining under the effort to save Flix’s life. With his other arm, he raised the VICE-shot and stunned the deep-voiced man.

  And while he fought with Flix, endured being pinched and kicked and head-butted, a primal scream rose through the night. A hail of bullets, faster than any Joe had heard, rained down on the space outside the greenhouse. Joe finally succeeded in forcing Flix down, and from the ground, he watched Aria scream over and over, “You killed my sister! You killed my sister!” as she marched toward the Sons, firing round after round, long after they’d all fallen. She reached the deep-voiced man, lying prone where Joe had stunned him, and put a bullet in his head.

  She watched the dead man, seemed to study his face, then turned glassy, wild eyes toward Joe. If she recognized him beyond the haze of her rage, he couldn’t tell. Her gun twitched, and Joe blasted her with the stunner.

  She fell, and Joe dropped his head, buried his face against the back of Flix’s neck and shuddered, kissed the skin there, warm and alive and maybe safe in the sudden, ringing quiet.

  “Let me go, Joe! Let me go!” Flix struggled against him once more, and Joe was so tired. When Flix dug a mean finger into the bullet wound on Joe’s shoulder, Joe rolled off him and laid on his back in the dirt, watching as Flix ran into the night, looking for his brother.

  Joe stayed there on the ground, his shoulder throbbing with his pulse. He watched the stars and listened to the screams and sobs of people who’d been like family. He didn’t want to think about it, not now, not while he was injured and Devin was still in the root cellar and this nightmare was all Joe’s fault.

  He rolled onto his stomach and pushed to his feet. He took the gun from Aria, who mumbled and twitched. He took them from all the dead bodies of the Sons, from the still-stunned guard, and staggered into the greenhouse.

  The effects of the stunner must have worn off the male guard, because he was gone. Joe checked every row of the greenhouse, VICE-shot raised, looking for any sign of trouble. The place was empty. Finally, he sat at the edge of the root cellar opening and let his legs dangle into the stale air.

  “Papi?” he said, and the needing of Devin was so sharp that Joe doubled over with the pain of it.

  “It’s me, Peter.” Peter’s pale face appeared near the ladder. “Devin’s awake but kind of woozy, and he hurt his ankle. I don’t think he can climb out of here on his own. Do you think you could —”

  Joe jumped down and tumbled to h
is knees. The sting of the collision with the ground rattled up his legs and spine. It was worth it, though, when he saw Devin propped against a wall, watching him with lazy, sleepy eyes and a soft smile. Joe crawled to him, his wounded shoulder cursing him with every movement. One by one, he pulled the rifles off his good shoulder and set them in a pile. Then he tucked his arms against his chest and fell into Devin. When Devin’s hands wrapped around him, they were cool and clumsy, but Joe didn’t care. He closed his eyes and let Devin’s breath and heartbeat and embrace soothe his shuddering tears.

  ***

  The next morning at cold and windy dawn, they buried Marcus and Sadie side by side. The holes in Sadie’s chest and Marcus’s stomach had been covered by a blanket. It didn’t matter. It was looking at their empty faces that hurt the most. Joe watched as Flix jumped into the grave, where he gently laced their fingers and watered their hands with his tears. He stayed there until Devin reached in and pulled him from the ground.

  Joe kept his distance; Flix didn’t want to be comforted by him. So Joe held on to Peter’s quaking shoulders and said a silent prayer for God to watch over the dead and ease the pain of the living.

  Navarro, hunched and pale, said the words out loud, and he said more, about Sadie’s endless curiosity and Marcus’s benevolent acceptance, about her love for her family and his love for his twin. He said they shouldn’t have died, that it wasn’t fair, that God was wrong to take children so young. That men and women were bastards for using weapons instead of words.

  Navarro spoke, but it was Lil who picked up the shovel and sprinkled the first dirt over her sister’s body. Flix came next, shaking off Devin’s steadying hands and doing what he had to before burying his face in Devin’s chest the way Joe had the night before. Navarro took a turn, and then Peter and Joe filled the grave. It was slow work. Joe’s shoulder protested every movement, and though it had mostly stopped bleeding, every once in a while he felt the slick, warm slide of blood down his chest or his arm. Penance. And not nearly enough.