Chapter 42: Chapter 42

Chapter 42

ASH

Ring-a-ring-a -rosies.

A pocket full of posies, A tissue, A tissue, we all fall down.

Joy swells in my heart as we come to a stop, mother's hands tightly encircling mine. Her eyes twinkle as she looks at me.

"Martha, stop filling Batista's head with girl stuff, that boy is going to become the mafia boss when he grows up."

Dad's voice wafts over to where we're still hunched over on the ground, trying to regain our breaths. Mum tenses as she turns to see dad, who is already advancing towards us, his countenance dark and forboding.

"Oh, Marco, please don't say such things, he's just a boy, let him grow up the way he should, with joy, our love, and guidance."

Dad prowls closer to us, his hands coiled by his side in fists. "Are you going against my authority?"

Mum's hands drop from mine as she stands on unsteady legs. Her bottom lip is slightly open and trembling. She bends and whispers for me to run inside the house but I don't want to. It's my turn to tense as she lays a hand on my shoulder, a silent warning for me to do as she says. I swing my eyes to look up at father whose eyes are spitting with anger now.

Even before I look back at mother, I know what I'll see.

Still, I look.

Sure enough, tears are shining in her eyes, threatening to spill. I want to go, I really do, but once I go into the house, I know what will happen.

Dad will begin to hit mum.

I can't let that happen.

I get up and stand in front of mum, and jut my chin defiantly at dad. He has moved even closer to her, ready to spread his venom.

"Run along, Batista, this is between me and your mother."

"Whatever you want to do to her, do it to me instead.." My voice breaks at the end, but I stand my ground.

Rage swirls in the depths of dad's dark eyes. His two hands which are still balled into fists, shake with an emotion I don't understand. He raises one in the air, and at the speed of light, it descends, and hits me square on the jaw.

"Wake up, you dirty American."

A punch lands on my jaw startling me awake. Someone stands in front of me, but his image is blurred, at first, later, it clears after a few seconds. A bald Asian man stands in front of me. He's speaking so fast, I don't understand a word of what he's saying.

"Can you hear me?"

He throws some words over his shoulder at someone, and another person comes into view.

"You killed my brothers, and you take children and women too. Now . . . you pay!"

What the devil is he mouthing about?

What women?

What children?

And then it all comes filtering back into my mind as I recall how it all started, and why I'm currently tied, hand and foot, to a chair.

My men and I, with the exception of Night eyes, found Guilang's whore houses. There were six in number. We also found many Asian underage females children being trafficked as sex slaves, as well as a few women. Some of them were in very bad conditions, their bodies mutilated by the perverts who paid to have their way with them.

We informed the police, but not before killing Guilang's men. The police swung into action, arresting the people they saw, and shutting the place down. The females were taken to a safe place where they would eventually be taken back to their countries. Moro got a tip off that the last place we were headed was where Guilang was hiding, so Capo and I went there while the other four took up the responsibility of cleaning up our tracks. They warned me it was a suicide mission and pleaded with me to go another day with all of them, but it fell on deaf ears. I wanted to strike while the iron was hot. I didn't want Guilang to run.

What I didn't know- actually- what none of us knew, was that Capo was behind it all.

I told him to cover me as I went deeper inside the last whore house, full-on assault. I remember turning round and seeing him waking out through the door. It was then I knew he was a traitor. It didn't take long to feel the sting of something on my neck. Next thing I knew, the ground was rushing to meet me.

I struggle to listen to the man who is speaking staccato English.

"Mr. Guilang. He has message for you. He say you die like rat."

It's all good with me.

I don't fear death. It's what all of humanity will face one day. Mine's just coming sooner rather than later.

The other man comes into view holding a syringe filled with a dark liquid. He pulls one of my hands, which is still tied, and injects the liquid into my forearm.

Whatever was inside that injection was potent stuff. I feel it instantly.

The dizziness.

The nausea.

The pain. . . the searing pain.

They hit me all at once like an avalanche.

It takes a few minutes, but I feel myself slumping forward as everywhere suddenly goes black.

*

I take my place beside the other thirty men. In front of each one is a table with an AK 47 assault rifle on top of it. I look down at the table in front of me and see the same thing.

"Your task is to disassemble and assemble the guns laying on the table in front of you. You've got one minute." Dad's voice floats over to me. I spy his tall form behind as he stands rigidly looking at all of us. "A prize awaits whoever finishes first."

Immediately he finishes speaking, I pick up the gun and begin to count to thirty as I disassemble it. I open the mainspring housing before releasing the latch. Next, I remove the bolt retainer and remove the barrel from the pistol frame.

My mind goes blank as I go through the motions, my hands fluidly putting everything back into place once more. Once I count to thirty, I put the assembled gun back on the table and look up with a cocked brow to see my father standing in front of me wearing a prideful smile.

He raises his hand like a general overseeing his troops and bellows. "Stop!"

The men immediately stop what they're doing. I honestly don't need to look, I already know I finished first.

He beckons to me and I walk over to where he's standing in front of them and staring sternly at everyone. "My son. . . " he takes a hold of one of my hands and raises it in the air, "is the winner of this round. Make sure to keep working hard in order to beat a twelve year boy next time. For now, you're all dismissed."

Loud grumblings follow his announcement as they walk away. I smirk to myself as I look up at dad, eagerly awaiting my gift. I wonder what it would be. A new game console maybe. I'll finally be able to play Morrtal Kombat.

"Walk with me." Dad says. "It wasn't a request. It was an order, one I eagerly fulfill as I scramble after him. I'm no match for his long strides, and soon enough, I'm lagging behind.

I catch up with him when he suddenly stops in front of the woods. What is he up to now? I restlessly shift from one foot to the otherr as he remains quiet, scanning the line of trees in front of us, as if waiting for someone, or something.

Suddenly, something dashes out from the bottom of the trees and veers towards us. It's scamper, my dog. Dad nods and turns to me.

"Call him." He points to scamper. I turn to him wonderingly but he inclines his head for me to do as he says.

I whistle, and Scamper immediately bounds over to us, his tongue lolling out and his tail wagging madly. He barks once he sees dad and brings his face towards my outstretched hand, so I stoop and nuzzle his head.

"Shoot him, and you'll get that Mortal Kombat game you've been pining after for some time." I hear day say.

My eyes bulge as I immediately stand and turn to look at him.

"What did you just say?"

"When I was your age, I had to kill a man as my first kill. Scamper, here, will be your first kill, consider yourself very lucky." He points to Scamper who is still wagging his tail and pushing his head into my hand. "I'm taking it easy on you." His eyes shine malevolently as he sets a hard gaze on me.

Tears have already begun to form in my eyes. Scamper was a gift from mum when I turned ten and I know from day one, dad never liked it. "But, dad, any other animal is okay, but not Scamper. Please, dad."

The tears are falling hard now, obscuring my view of Scamper who has begun to whine.

"It won't look good for you to disobey a direct order from your capo, now, would it?"

Even before I turn, I know a crowd has gathered behind us. He obviously orchestrated everything before today. He knew I would win, and he also knows this is the only way I'll kill Scamper, thereby hurting mum in the process. Every time he tries to hurt her, I stand up against it and he doesn't like it. If I don't do this, he'll say I flounced his order and therefore won't become a made man when I turn sixteen.

I need to become a made man when I grow older, because without that, I'd be a nobody. Dad doesn't say anything except to bring out his pistol from the waistband of his jeans and hand it to me. I take it wordlessly, still sniffing. The tears have stopped but a hard resolve has begun to grow in my chest.

I stoop to Scamper's level and caress his head. "I love you, buddy, and I'm very sorry."

I pull him close to me and put the gun to his flank. I close my eyes and pull the trigger. He goes limp immediately and slumps on the ground, blood pooling all around him.

Claps resound all around me, but I don't feel victorious. I feel faint. I killed my best friend. I killed him. Dizziness engulfs me and before I know it, the ground is rushing up to meet me.