Beyond the window, wispy clouds drift across the sky, so the sun rays burst through the gaps like lasers. The hidden ball of light brings about a sinister shadow that creeps indoors and covers the seated men before us. A temporary change in atmosphere prickles my spine, the sensation unnerving like spiders crawling over me.
I’m not sure why my belly is in knots or why the temperature cools, making my nerves skitter.
“We don’t know exactly who the order is coming from, but I know a guy who might help me find out… for the right price.” One man speaks up.
“The threat is real. We know that for sure.” Another joins the conversation.
The chaos of a bustling city street seems to freeze like the hands of a clock having melted with no more time to tell.
“What’s your guy’s name?” Angelo sets an elbow on the edge of the table and leans in.
I turn to him and stare up at his stormy expression. There’s an unusual wave of calmness outside. Perhaps the Earth has stopped turning and gravity sucked up all the pedestrians. Or fate has pressed a giant pause button for a moment of concentration. Nonetheless, my pulse gallops at the rarity of stillness. Something isn’t right.
“Uncle.”
Immediately, eyes of flaming amber settle on mine. His head cocks, fully aware that I know my place and it’s not in this conversation.
I swallow, scared my amateur instincts are wired to the moon. “You said to tell you…” I whisper behind my hand, “if my gut could sense...”
Instantly, he cuts me off with a curt nod. “Brandon.” Angelo waves to his second, a skinny guy wearing a bandanna. “Take photos of every face in this room and record all their names. Davi, I need that name right now.”
When my uncle rises, he cuffs my wrist, so my knees unlock and we’re side by side, standing tall.
Davi opens his mouth to speak. At first, for a millisecond, I imagine the pale clouds have carried a riotous thunderstorm when a flash distorts my vision and an ear-splitting boom shakes the building.
An almighty force throws my small body backward, helplessly disoriented in a mortal blast. Darkness blinds me and the weight of an ox bears down on me from above.
Seconds speed by as the rhythm of beating hearts weakens. The ringing in my ears is louder than any other sound I’ve ever experienced. I’m temporarily deaf.
My lashes bat rapidly, my eyes straining to see through the suffocating pressure pinning me to the floorboards.
I gag, my throat fighting against the coppery slime in my mouth, denying its passage into my stomach. Perhaps I was knocked out, or simply dazed by the explosion. The unaccounted moments spent lying in a heap are inconsequential until the synapses in my brain fire up.
Angelo.
Car alarms wail, sounding far off. The mind-numbing repetition competes with a tinny, high-pitched noise in my aching skull. It's all I hear, that and my racing pulse. Adrenaline kicks in, and I push up to sit.
The warm mass trapping me rolls sideways. I scrub my eyes and watch ashy debris settle like snowflakes. The tips of my fingers are wet, the skin on my face coated in stickiness.
“Angelo?” My mind swims in confusion, my tongue blanketed in a foul-tasting cocktail.
Tremors attack my hands, quickly turning volatile when I hold them outwards. Crimson stains varnish my sun kissed skin. There’s no cuts or gashes on my limbs to warrant a hemorrhage of this magnitude.
I spit out a salty goop, realizing it's not saliva. My belly heaves at the vile taste I can’t get rid of. The clean clothes I’d worn to school are steeped in crimson and dust.
“Uncle!” I yell, finding the power in my lungs.
“Tomás.” His usual authoritative tone is unsteady. “Here.” A breathless hiss is close by.
Fire rages and crackles outside the demolished gable wall. Thick black smoke rises into the sky, announcing an explosion of catastrophic proportions.
“You okay, Tommy?” The husky rasp to Angelo’s voice licks my spine with fear.
As I try to rise amidst busted bricks, my hand lands on a tattooed arm. A singular body part, unattached to the torso of its owner.
“Fuck!” I cry out, mindlessly checking my own limbs in a panic to make sure it’s not mine.
Tears sting my eyes at the sight of it and fright electrifies my muscles with spiky barbs. I slam my hands over my ears to block out the excruciating chorus of groaning death and deafening sirens.