Still dazed by the event, I take a brief moment to locate Angelo in the carnage spread out before me.
Dismembered corpses litter the rubble. Live wires hang from an eroded ceiling where sparks flit like fireflies and the neighboring building across the road seems much closer now with the front of the bar demolished.
I move and heave simultaneously. Filth clings to the blood on my hands and the liquid terror spilling from my eyes. Turning clockwise, I find my uncle's eyes. Those energetic amber irises once burning with flames of domination. Only staring back at me now, missing the fire that commands supremacy.
“Let me see you, kid.” He grits out.
I kneel by his side, biting my wobbly lower lip. He’s in bad shape. Nothing a surgeon could remedy. I’m sure of it. His right leg is missing, the other is bent behind him, and blood pours from a vicious head wound.
“You… hurt?” He grits out.
My heart is broken. “No.” I shake my head and wipe my runny nose with the back of my grubby hand.
“Thank… fuck.” His breath rattles.
It’s only now when it hits me. How he had shielded me from danger. How he had put himself between me and the blast. And now he’s suffering because of it.
“You saved me, Uncle,” I choke out. He’s my real life superhero. The coppery taste polluting my mouth is his blood. Every claret speck painting my skin is his. I’m wearing his bravery all over me.
He tries to prop himself up only to sink like a stone.
“Don't get up. Help is coming.” I grab his hand. His ruby signet ring bites into my flesh when I link my fingers tightly with his. “Papá will make sure you get the best medical treatment.”
Angelo gnashes his teeth, snarling untamed like a starved wolf. “Listen to me. Elias is… next in line. Then… you.” His lashes flutter. “He must… step up… immediately.” As he tries to reach for me, he grimaces and hisses. “You’re the only one… who knows I’m… dead.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my eyes welling up with liquid fear. “You’re not dead.” I struggle to speak with the courage he’d taught me. “The surgeons will fix...” My lashes lower as I dare to peek at the hemorrhaging artery in his groin. Vomit rises, the acid burning my tight throat. It looks brutal––fatal. My pulse slams in my tight throat, forcing out a whimper.
Creases slash the corners of his opaque eyes, the life slipping from his mutilated body. “No one can fix…” He wheezes. “… this.”
My stomach churns at the gruesome state he’s in. “We’ll fly in the best doctors and surgeons money can buy,” I say in a gust of hope and reassurance. “I promise. I’ll stay with you in the hospital. You’ll be okay… this will be okay.”
Angelo seizes my arm, groans with pain, and yanks me into his rattling chest. “I—I love you… Tommy.” He gasps for air. A hard ball of fear bobs in my throat when I witness the sincerity pooling in his eyes. “Remember what I said. You’ll be… legendary, kid. And to be that man one day… you have to save me… from this.” He pins me with horrifying intensity. “Shoot me now. End this fucking mess.” My heart rate goes off the charts. He fumbles with the gold pistol close to his hip. “Take it… use it… keep it.” His hand drops from the weight of the gun in his palm.
I suck in a harrowing breath and finger the engraved lettering on the barrel. Chills scurry over me, the horrifying sensation resembling a bombshell of lacerating debris. The shudder with his order almost breaks my courage.
“I’m dying anyway, kid.” He coughs up bloody spittle. “Give me a quick… honorable death.”
“I can’t… n-no.” I rear back, only to feel his ruthless grip cinch my elbow.
“Neverhesitate.” He gulps, struggling to continue. “… always trust your instincts. No matter… what anyone tells you.”
In that moment, my heart screams with anguish, but my queasy gut—it tells me to obey.
“Do it.” He winces in mortal agony. “That’s an… order.” The command pelts my racing young soul with sharp splinters of cracked ice. “Send me to my grave… with love… and pride in my heart, Tomás Souza.” He coughs up a bloody clot, his face now whiter than a glacier with the faint coloring of wintry blue.
I choke on a tattered sob. The ache in my stomach hurts like never before. My conscience begs me to hold on to the man I adore until medics arrive at the scene. They’ll save his life, albeit maimed and dysfunctional.
“Love is death, Tommy. If you love me… do it.”
And that I do. I love him with every fiber of my existence.
I take possession of Angelo's favorite pistol. My hand shakes and sweat mingles with the slimy blood smearing my cheeks. “I love you, Uncle Angelo.”
Bang.
TOMÁS
PRESENT DAY