Jonas Saul - The Kill

Amazing. Fucking amazing.

He walked farther, feeling more secure. His Cadillac was shot up pretty bad. It was also boxed in by two of Gambino’s vehicles, one of which was the van on fire.

A police siren wailed in the distance.

Gotta get the fuck out.

Not a single vehicle was available to use. They were either on fire or shot to shit. He knew he had to hustle. In minutes, the area would be littered with cops, and dogs would search every square inch. At least a ten-mile radius would be shut down.

He looked up at the sound of a car approaching. Not a cop car. No flashing lights. He walked up to the shoulder of the road. The car was coming fast, but slowed as it approached the flames. A Ford Mustang with the interior light on.

That’s weird. Why’s the interior light on?

When the Mustang was fifty paces out, Vincenzo stepped from hiding and, with his legs spread, aimed the gun two-handed at the driver of the vehicle.

It didn’t slow. In fact, in the last few seconds before the vehicle was upon Vincenzo, it sped up.

Vincenzo fired a bullet into the windshield as a warning.

“Pull over,” he shouted. “I need your car.”

Vincenzo didn’t have time to jump. He’d waited too long. He’d just walked out of a hangar full of dead men, surrounded by dead men, the only survivor. Surely a car would stop for him, or at least veer away from an invincible mafia leader. When he shot a warning at the vehicle, he thought for sure the driver would lose control. All it caused the driver to do was hit the gas pedal.

The Mustang hit Vincenzo at the knees, knocking him onto the hood of the car at forty-five miles per hour. Vincenzo rolled up and smashed into the windshield, and then tumbled over the car, clearing the trunk on his way to the ground.

The driver slammed on his brakes and pulled to a stop on the side of the road.

The pain was intense and all-encompassing. He lay at an odd angle. His hips weren’t meant to twist that way. Only his right eye still worked. In his peripheral vision, the back of his left foot rested near his shoulder.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He lay there, breathing slower and slower.

A young man ran up and stood over him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. I was watching the fire over there. Then something hit my windshield. I panicked and then you jumped in front of my… Oh, man, I’m in so much trouble. I’m sorry, mister. I’ll call an ambulance.”

The young man moved away from Vincenzo’s vision, crying, whispering crazy things. Then he was talking on his phone to someone.

“Rosina, it’s Darwin. I’m sorry. I couldn’t see him in the dark, honey” he paused, then, “I don’t have to call the cops… I see a ton of them coming now. I’m sorry, Rosina. I’ll call you when this is over.”

The man didn’t hang up. He sounded angry and distraught. The guy asked whoever he was talking to how things could get messed up so bad, and what would her parents think of him since they’re engaged.

Hey kid, I’m dying here. Can you worry about your fiancee and her parents later? Call a fucking ambulance.

Vincenzo closed his one good eye. He was tired. Breathing became a serious chore. He fell asleep. The blood oozing out of all his open wounds stopped flowing.

His heart had stopped.

Darwin handed the key to the man at the desk. He took a good look around the room for anyone watching them in any way beyond normal suspicion, but the small lobby was deserted. It was only his new wife, Rosina, himself, and the clerk, who didn’t look suspect.

“How was your stay?” the clerk asked in his accented English.

“Great,” Rosina answered him. “We had a fabulous time in Rome. Loved the Coliseum. Thanks.”

Darwin grabbed his backpack, slipped both arms through the straps, and grabbed their one suitcase.

“Let’s go, hun. We don’t want to miss the bus to the airport.”

She shot him a glance that said don’t rush me. He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

No problem, I won’t rush you, just hurry up.

They said goodbye and promised to return, then made their way down the stairs and out of Hotel Luigi. It was a block to where the bus was to take them to Fiumicino Airport where they were flying to Athens, Greece, to continue their honeymoon.

Darwin surveyed the area, scanning the faces of everyone who was too close for comfort. They were too exposed. Darwin hated having his wife this exposed. He watched his back, paid attention to the street ahead and waited for the sky to fall. At any moment they could be attacked.

He knew it. His wife didn’t.

He thought about telling her, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to quite yet. It was their honeymoon after all. He didn’t want to ruin it for her. He would come clean on the plane ride back to Toronto. That would give him a chance to give her all the details about the death threats, the two attempts on his life, and the new way they were going to have to live. She wouldn’t be able to run away from him when he explained everything, as they’d be stuck on a plane together. She wouldn’t be able to yell at him or hit him on a plane either. He’d remind her about air rage laws.

It wasn’t really his fault, though. Fate did this. But now he had to live with it. Or die for it.

They made it to the bus stop unscathed. The bus pulled up moments later. Darwin placed their luggage piece in the compartment under the bus and handed their tickets to the driver. Other people were dumping their luggage in too and scampering onto the bus. After a long line, Rosina walked on.

Darwin waited until it looked like no one else was coming, then took one more look around. As he started to step on, something stopped him. Two well-dressed men had just exited Rome’s Termini train station. Both of them talked on cell phones. One pointed at Darwin.

Darwin leapt up the bus stairs. The driver shut the door behind him.

“How long before we go?” Darwin asked.

“Right now,” the driver answered. “You were the last passenger.”

He turned and started down the aisle, looking for Rosina. He saw her halfway down, near the middle exit door. The bus pulled away from the curb. Just as he went to sit down, one of the two men had made it to the side of the bus.

The man jumped up and banged on the window beside Rosina, who leaned away from the glass.

“Wow, crazy people. They really should try to get here on time.”

“Yeah,” Darwin agreed. “Insane.”

His stomach clenched. That was too close. One minute either way, and they would’ve been kidnapped or dead. He had to do something more proactive. He had to fix the situation.

That’s what going to the airport is. I’m being proactive. I’m taking my wife on another plane ride so it’ll take them that much longer to find us again.

He slowly shook his head. They’d never go away. That was just it. This kind of men was too powerful. When they put you in their sights, there really was no negotiating with them. It was over and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“You okay?” Rosina asked. “You look white.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said. “Continental breakfast didn’t really sit well with me.”

“ I’m feeling fine, so I doubt it was the food. Could it be your fear of flying?”

Darwin looked at her, his head still bowed. “No. Really, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

She leaned closer and snuck an arm inside his. “But you’re my husband now and I love you. Tell me what’s bothering you so I can take it all away.”

I wish it were that simple.

“It’s nothing, really. I’ll be fine once we’re on that plane to Athens. This is going to be awesome. I cannot wait to see the Acropolis.”