There was something about the dark, empty parking lot that felt like the end of the world. The last time they had been at Six Pines, there had been hundreds of cars\u2014 glowing lights, gamblers, and noise. Now it sat silent, like the foot of a mountain on a moonless night. Only a few vehicles were left near the entrance. Demos recognized Sal\u2019s\u2014 he\u2019d beat them there.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The lobby was just as quiet. Christmas decorations swayed beneath shadows, a hundred strings of lights hung dead above their heads. A few dark shapes stood huddled beside the reception desk, speaking in voices too low to follow.<\/p>\n
\u201cGina,\u201d Demos said. \u201cI thought I told you to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked over, her face momentarily illuminated as she lit a cigarette. The orange glow flashed over her sharp features before folding as the lighter clicked off.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought I do what I want,\u201d Gina said. \u201cBecause I don\u2019t report to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
This was another battle Demos would not chase. There wasn\u2019t time to argue and, more importantly, she was right. Gina wasn\u2019t part of the hierarchy\u2014 she didn\u2019t report to anyone but herself.<\/p>\n
Ferris struggled to focus his eyes in the dark. \u201cYou really did clear the place out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe announced a gas leak,\u201d Don said. He was standing beside Gina, his attention set on the bolt-action rifle he was loading.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere were quite a few refunds to issue.\u201d Don\u2019s voice dropped.\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cIf you\u2019re wrong about this, you owe us for every cent.\u201d<\/p>\n The bolt clacked as he pushed it shut with his palm.<\/p>\n \u201cI hope I am<\/i> wrong,\u201d Demos said. His eyes drifted toward the entrance. With an empty parking lot, there would be no element of surprise. The Marianis would know they were expected.<\/p>\n \u201cNo way, kid,\u201d Sal said\u2014 a shadow with a voice. \u201cI drove three hours for this shit. If I don\u2019t get to shoot somebody, I\u2019m shooting you.\u201d<\/p>\n He laughed. The only one to join him was Gina.<\/p>\n Outside, there were engines. Headlights poured in through the glass entrance, casting long, black shadows patched with white. They were here.<\/p>\n It looked like Sal wouldn\u2019t be shooting Demos, at least.<\/p>\n Gina stubbed out her cigarette before sliding the last rifle from the desk.<\/p>\n \u201cFerris,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n He looked over, surprised to hear his own name coming from Gina\u2019s mouth. Both her tone and her eye contact were unsettling\u2014 as dead serious as he\u2019d ever seen her.<\/p>\n \u201cCan you take Nadia somewhere safe?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n Ferris\u2019 eyes shifted from Gina to the woman beside her. Nadia hadn\u2019t spoken since they\u2019d arrived, only wringing her hands with an empty gaze. She hadn\u2019t signed up for this. They couldn\u2019t lose another civilian to the Marianis. Not her\u2014 not anyone.<\/p>\n Not to mention, Ferris still wasn\u2019t armed. This was about as useful as he could get.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cCome on.\u201d<\/p>\n Just before stepping away, he paused. Demos had caught his eyes\u2014 there was something in his stare, something he was trying to say. The tightness in his eyelids, the faint crease in his brow, it came to him as clear as words themselves.<\/p>\n Be careful.<\/i><\/p>\n \u201cOkay,\u201d Don said. \u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n Half a minute passed. The first shots were fired through glass. One after another, the panes of the entrance shattered, pierced by shells, raining shards down over carpet. The fragments glinted under the car headlights, still glaring white through the open space. A dozen men entered the lobby, their shoes crunching over scraps of glass.<\/p>\n The only thing to greet them was their own shadows.<\/p>\n The lobby was empty.<\/p>\n \u201cGet out here, you fucking cowards<\/i>!\u201d It was Aldo\u2019s voice. There was an echo to it, his rage bouncing off the darkened walls. No one responded. There was only the sound of rolling engines outside, of twelve men breathing. The temperature in the lobby began to drop as cold air mingled with warm.<\/p>\n A man at Aldo\u2019s side muttered. \u201cHow did they know we were\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n Splatters of red cut his sentence short. Two bodies fell, toppling down over the broken doors. One floor above, a pair of security guards reloaded their rifles.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re up there,\u201d Aldo said. \u201cMove! Fucking move<\/i>!\u201d<\/p>\n The next few seconds were blurry through the CCTV screen. Ferris leaned closer, his hands flat on the desk of the security office. Twenty screens covered the wall in front of him, flitting with static. Nadia was hunched in the chair at his side, her arms strung tight against her own chest. It was the safest place he could think of\u2014 at least on short notice.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat were you doing up here, anyway?\u201d Ferris asked. Maybe talking would help settle her nerves.<\/p>\n \u201cShe said I looked tense,\u201d Nadia said. \u201cSaid the spa would help me relax.\u201d<\/p>\n Nadia\u2019s thousand-yard stare flickered in his direction.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is not relaxing,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. No kidding.\u201d<\/p>\n Nadia\u2019s voice softened. \u201cI like her, though. Gina. She\u2019s been so kind to me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s\u2014 she\u2019s been what?<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n Movement on another screen stole his attention. It was the casino floor. The surviving Marianis had swept deeper into the building. This time, they knew better. Their postures were guarded, hunching behind lifeless slot machines as they searched the pitch-black floor. Ferris would have to ask what imposter had been impersonating Gina some other time.<\/p>\n Back on the gaming floor, Demos\u2019 fingers tightened on the rifle stock. He strained to listen for footsteps, for breathing, but his own cursed pulse overpowered every other sense in his body. Sal was crouched to his right, his figure obscured by a wide craps table.<\/p>\n Then, he heard it\u2014 a dull thump on metal. Someone\u2019s foot had bumped a slot machine. Demos snapped sideways, firing two shots into the dark. A body fell.<\/p>\n That was when it started.<\/p>\n There was a clunk, followed by an electrical hum. Lights snapped on, machines trilled, and gunfire filled the air. From the second level, security fired on the now-blinded raiders. Bodies clanged as they collapsed against video poker machines, staining the already-crimson carpeting that ran across the floor. Demos\u2019 stare flickered from one figure to the next, a focused search for a single target.<\/p>\n \u201cAldo<\/i>,\u201d Demos said through his teeth. There he was, beneath the crystal chandelier at the center of the room. Demos took a breath, then aimed.<\/p>\n His target swept from his vision in an instant. Aldo was gasping for air, weaving past black jack tables before running straight to a steel door beneath a glowing red sign.<\/p>\n Exit.<\/p>\n \u201cShit! <\/i>Sal, he\u2019s getting away!\u201d<\/p>\n The two jumped to their feet, ducking beneath open fire. Bullets tore at video screens, shattering digital faces into silence. Sal\u2019s body hit the door with all the grace of a boulder and the two tumbled into the bright, narrow space.<\/p>\n It was a stairwell.<\/p>\n Sal arched his neck, peering up at the ascending staircase. Somewhere above them, the sound of footsteps dissolved behind a slamming door. He\u2019d gone onto one of the floors above.<\/p>\n \u201cGod, fuckin\u2014 ugh<\/i>.\u201d Sal was already panting\u2014 it had been a long time since he\u2019d been full of youthful energy. \u201cYou check the third floor, I\u2019ll get the second.\u201d<\/p>\n There wasn\u2019t time to argue. Demos only nodded, his grip tight on the rifle as he pushed up the stairs. Each step echoed through the tight angles of the stairwell.<\/p>\n The third level door was shut tight. Demos swallowed before reaching for the handle, praying it wouldn\u2019t be locked.<\/p>\n It turned with a click.<\/p>\n He flattened his back against the wall, allowing the door to drift open without him. Demos closed his eyes. There wasn\u2019t a sound\u2014 no movement, no life. With a single breath, he peeked past the door frame.<\/p>\n There was nothing. It was a long, deserted hallway lined with suite doors\u2014 the third floor of the hotel. He pivoted past the threshold, shoes noiseless on the ornate carpeting. Aldo couldn\u2019t have gone into one of the rooms, he would have needed a key. There was a turn at the end of the hall, a 90 degree angle into the north end of the building. Had he\u2014<\/p>\n Two gunshots\u2014 then a third. They were below him.<\/p>\n The second floor.<\/p>\n \u201cGod damnit, Sal.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos raced back into the stairwell, his soles scuffing the concrete flooring. He gripped the railing around a turn, not slowing his pace until he was facing the door to the second level. It was open.<\/p>\n He stood in place, catching his breath. A wall light flickered over the only object in the entire hallway. It lay there, halfway down the center\u2014 a dark, motionless shape.<\/p>\n A body.<\/p>\n \u201cSal?\u201d The word was dry in his throat.<\/p>\n Demos took a step closer.<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t make it into the hallway. A shape cut into his line of sight\u2014 two bloodshot eyes boring straight back into his. Demos couldn\u2019t think fast enough, couldn\u2019t move as the figure\u2019s fingers twisted into the front of his shirt, nails digging against buttons.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Aldo said.<\/p>\n Then, he pushed.<\/p>\n It was a cannonball in Demos\u2019 chest. The floor, once so steady, withdrew from beneath him. All that was left was a sliver of heel tottering on the sharp edge of a stair. The breath he\u2019d been holding abandoned ship, rising up as his body went down.<\/p>\n Wide eyes caught fluorescent lights rolling from one end of his vision to another. There was the crack of joints on concrete, the tumble of his brittle frame on steps and steel. There shocks of white, the smell of red, the pain of black fractures stealing through bone.<\/p>\n Demos hit the landing hard\u2014 a discarded schoolbag, blood spilling like books and pencils over the grimy concrete. He groaned.<\/p>\n He couldn\u2019t tell which direction he was facing. Slow, intentional footsteps approached on the stairs, one at a time, a luxury he had been robbed of. Demos curled his fingers\u2014 the rifle was gone. It had fallen. Somewhere\u2014 where? He inhaled through a hiss, lungs pressing against split ribs. Pain razed up through him and he gasped.<\/p>\n The footsteps stopped.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere is his body?\u201d asked the voice from above. It was fuzzy, barely audible over the rapid pounding in his skull. There was a heat present as Aldo crouched, straddling Demos\u2019 broken frame on the stairwell floor.<\/p>\n Demos coughed. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSandro.<\/i>\u201d Aldo\u2019s hands had found their way back onto Demos\u2019 shirt, only now it was smudged with dust and bloodstains. Demos\u2019 head hung back, limp as he was lifted by the collar.<\/p>\n Aldo\u2019s voice rose\u2014 twisting in his throat. \u201cWhere is Sandro?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n The fist came before he could see it. The world spun once more as knuckles met the pale edge of his cheek, sending droplets of sweat against the wall. Demos could taste blood.<\/p>\n \u201cTell me!\u201d<\/p>\n There was a second punch\u2014 a third. Demos could feel the hair on the back of his head twisting as Aldo yanked it backward, exposing his throat to the indifferent ceiling.<\/p>\n \u201cTell me where my brother is!<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n Demos said nothing, only breathing\u2014 each intake stung, his skin throbbing beneath bruises. Blood trailed past his dry lips, a slow trickle until it cupped beneath his chin.<\/p>\n \u201cYou haven\u2019t learned anything,\u201d Aldo said. \u201cYour actions have consequences. And you\u2019re going to tell me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAldo.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t Demos\u2019 voice.<\/p>\n Aldo\u2019s eyes trailed upward just in time to see the bottom of a practical winter boot. The heel met his forehead with a low, reverberating crack, heaving his body back into the wall behind him. Aldo crumpled with a moan.<\/p>\n Ferris knelt, taking the man\u2019s collar in both hands. He said nothing else, lips silent and eyes empty as he dragged the man up to his feet. There was a crack. Aldo\u2019s skull chipped paint, bashed into the wall once\u2014 twice. He choked, grasping Ferris\u2019 wrists.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t over.<\/p>\n Aldo\u2019s body twisted as he was thrown into the steel railing. His spine curved over the bar in a manner it was certainly not meant to, metal digging rivets into his back. Hands found Aldo\u2019s neck. Ferris leaned in. He could feel his victim\u2019s throat bob beneath his thumbs, jerking as he struggled to twist free. Veins bulged and Aldo\u2019s face burned red. Ferris\u2019 fingers dug deeper\u2014 hard, gouging lines, building pressure against his trachea. Blunt trauma with no window for escape.<\/p>\n \u201cFerris\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n Ferris glanced over. It was Demos\u2014 and a single, choked word.<\/p>\n Aldo\u2019s body dropped with a thud.<\/p>\n The world returned to him as he knelt beside his friend. The stairwell came into focus\u2014 walls, steps, the long, white bulbs of the ceiling lights. Demos\u2019 foot was twisted sideways, his ankle bent at an angle that was in no way natural. He wouldn\u2019t be walking that night. Ferris met his eyes, reaching in to take Demos\u2019 hand.<\/p>\n \u201cCan you move your neck?\u201d Ferris asked. He wasn\u2019t sure why his voice was shaking.<\/p>\n Demos nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI\u2019m going to pick you up.\u201d<\/p>\n There were probably things to say, questions to ask, but Ferris could only think of one thing\u2014 getting him out of there. He moved automatically, one hand dipping beneath Demos\u2019 knees as he lifted him from the ground. Demos\u2019 body seemed cold\u2014 hollow. Why did he feel so light?<\/p>\n Demos tried to hold in a groan, but failed miserably.<\/p>\n \u201cI know,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI know it hurts. Just hang on, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n He left the landing\u2014 left the rifle, Aldo, and every stain and crack on the concrete floor. None of it mattered. All there was, all that existed, was the small body in his arms\u2014 a pained shiver beneath mottled wounds, dark hair on a head that had wilted against his chest.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI got you.\u201d<\/p>\n The stairwell door swept shut behind him.<\/p>\n Nadia jumped when the two entered the security office, bumping back the rolling chair she\u2019d been seated in. It took a moment of staring before she realized that the mangled mess in Ferris\u2019 arms was a person.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat hit him?\u201d Nadia said. \u201cA truck?\u201d<\/p>\n Ferris knelt, easing his cargo onto the solid floor.<\/p>\n \u201cAbout a dozen stairs. Can you help him?\u201d<\/p>\n Nadia was already rolling up her sleeves\u2014 she didn\u2019t have to be asked. She knelt in the cramped space beside Demos, feeling along the sides of his neck for injury.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you numb anywhere?\u201d Nadia looked from one eye to another, taking note of Demos\u2019 pupils.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I\u2019m\u2014 nngh!<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n Her hands had found his shoulder, or more accurately, the knob where it had shifted to. She paused in her assessment.<\/p>\n \u201cHow does that feel?\u201d<\/p>\n Demos\u2019 eyes screwed shut. \u201cIt\u2014 it fucking hurts.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe needs to relax.\u201d Her attention shifted to Ferris. \u201cDistract him.\u201d<\/p>\n Ferris inhaled\u2014 a sharp swell of his chest as he became suddenly aware of his own presence in the small, dark room.<\/p>\n \u201cUh\u2014 okay. Right.\u201d Ferris patted the floor until he found Demos\u2019 hand. He clutched it, palm against palm. What was there to say? What could possibly take his friend\u2019s attention away from the pain of what looked like a dislocated shoulder and a half dozen shattered bones?<\/p>\n There were holiday decorations at the edge of his vision\u2014 some lights, a mini Christmas tree on the desk. Holidays. Only one came to mind fast enough.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, do you remember, uh\u2014\u201c Ferris scratched behind his ear. \u201cYour first Halloween here? In the States?\u201d<\/p>\n Demos groaned. \u201cI hated it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. I was a ghostbuster, so your aunt Vanni made you dress up like a ghost.\u201d Ferris gave a light laugh. \u201cYou were so mad.\u201d<\/p>\n The Italian narrowed his eyes, directing his glare up at Ferris. \u201cYou\u2014 you made me watch the movie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, and you said it was unrealistic<\/i>\u2014\u00a0 <\/span>and that all of our American candy was garbage. You were such a goddamn brat.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHey\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cBut then we found those kids egging that house.\u201d Ferris smiled. \u201cYou wanted to join them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2014 ahia! <\/i>Cazzo, figlio di puttana!<\/i>\u201c<\/p>\n Demos\u2019 frame had seized as his shoulder was popped back into place. His hand clenched, a violent grip between Ferris\u2019 fingers. Sweat stung as it trickled over a gash on his temple.<\/p>\n Somehow, Demos managed to laugh.<\/p>\n \u201cYou said no,\u201d he said through a pained smile.<\/p>\n Ferris watched him for a while. Somehow, through flashes in his vision, he could see Demos back in the stairwell. There was Aldo\u2019s face. Reddened, struggling, suffocating beneath his hands. Something seared upward in Ferris\u2019 chest, that same shade of red, that same burn. He closed his eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cYou joined them anyway,\u201d Ferris said.<\/p>\n \u201cWe didn\u2019t celebrate Halloween back home,\u201d Demos said. His words had trailed, as if there was more to the story that he had forgotten to say.<\/p>\n Ferris opened his eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is your home.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos\u2019 gaze softened. He forgot, for that moment, that Nadia was compressing his sprained ankle. He forgot how much pain every breath brought in and how this particular outfit was much too stained and torn to ever wear again.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2014 that fucking whale book,\u201d Demos said. \u201cMoby-Dick. You lent me Moby-Dick<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. Sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos\u2019 glare returned, dead-set on Ferris\u2019 eyes. \u201cThat book is really gay.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014 what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour fucking book,\u201d Demos said, \u201cmade me gay.\u201d<\/p>\n Demos\u2019 voice had grown weaker as the minutes passed. Shock, pain, and blood loss had mingled to create an intoxicating cocktail in the back of his head. His complexion was dull\u2014 clammy. Somehow, he maintained the tight grip on Ferris\u2019 hand.<\/p>\n Ferris laughed. \u201cNo, I think that was all you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFerris.\u201d Demos\u2019 lips hung open for a moment. \u201cFerris, I\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Nadia said. \u201cNo deathbed confessions, you\u2019re not dying.\u201d<\/p>\n There was a click behind them. The door to the security room cracked open, bumping Ferris\u2019 knee. It was Gina. She glanced down at the mess of figures on the floor, but said nothing.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s going to be okay,\u201d Nadia said.<\/p>\n Gina let out a single, short breath.<\/p>\n \u201cAldo is in the stairwell,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cAnd Sal is on\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cThere was no one in the stairwell,\u201d Gina said. \u201cAnd Salvatore is dead.\u201d<\/p>\n The room was quiet for a while. Ferris\u2019 eyes dropped to the hand that was in his own.<\/p>\n His thumb ran slowly over scuffed knuckles. He could feel it, through his palm\u2014 Demos\u2019 pulse, faint and ragged. Frame by frame, it returned\u2014\u00a0 <\/span>the grinding of ligaments beneath his fingers\u2014 the sound a man made when struggling for air. He was gone. Aldo had gotten away and Demos had been left broken in his wake.<\/p>\n Ferris could no longer see the room. Figures went out of focus, swarmed by a single color. It was all he could feel\u2014 that rolling boil beneath his ribs. The burn that rose from somewhere in his gut, scorching through him like a forest fire. It was so simple, that color.<\/p>\n That deep, infinite tint of red.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" There was something about the dark, empty parking lot that felt like the end of the world. The last time they had been at Six Pines, there had been hundreds of cars\u2014 glowing lights, gamblers, and noise. Now it sat silent, like the foot of a mountain on a moonless night. Only a few vehicles […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-604","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-02"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-9K","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/604","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=604"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/604\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":681,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/604\/revisions\/681"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=604"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=604"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=604"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}