Orphans of Paradise

by Laekan Zea Kemp

  “Go, go!” he yelled.

  Max followed behind Rani and all five of them made room for Medina as he slipped out behind them, his gun still poised on the darkness. There were more gunshots, louder this time, a flurry of them ringing within the hospital walls.

  “This way,” he said, leading them around the corner of the building.

  “They found her,” Jax whispered.

  “Come on,” Medina said, lifting Rani into his arms.

  They reached a row of police cars blocking the street, their multicolored lights flashing. Medina nodded to an officer who held open the passenger door to an unmarked patrol car. Rani slid in and Max and the twins followed.

  Medina nodded to Jax. “You up front.”

  Glass from a first story window, only one room over from Rani’s, flew in shards from the frame, littering the parking lot. The long barrel of a shotgun balanced along the sill, the gunman’s face hidden behind the wall as it sent shot after shot flying toward the line of police cars.

  “Shit, this guy’s on a suicide mission,” Jax said.

  Pascual knew sending armed gunmen onto a hospital floor full of cops was a death sentence. But it would all be worth it if just one shot, one bullet could make it past them to Rani. And if a few of Medina’s men were taken out in the process, or even Medina himself, well that wouldn’t be too bad either.

  Medina pulled the car onto the curb. They passed over sidewalks and through people’s front yards until they reached the main highway; flying through red lights and stop signs, the overhead lights still dimmed. They made it all the way to the outskirts of town in complete darkness but not even that was enough to keep the driver of a lone taxi cab from spotting them. One of Pascual’s drivers was in the passenger seat, his face pale with panic, another gunman behind the wheel.

  Jax saw Medina glancing in the rearview mirror. The cab had maintained its distance from them while they were still inside the city but as charcoal buildings and glistening street lights gave way to empty wheat fields and two lane roads, it started to pick up speed.

  “You have to undo these handcuffs,” Jax said, shaking his wrists.

  Medina fiddled with the key until it broke loose from the chain and then freed Jax’s wrists. He winced as the cuffs fell away and rubbed his hands together in front of his mouth until the blood pulsed through his fingers again.

  The cab disappeared from the rearview mirror and slid into the lane next to them, the gunman’s window almost parallel with the back door. Medina pressed down hard on the gas before letting the driver’s side window down an inch and firing a few shots at the cab behind them. The car swerved, heads ducking behind the dashboard, and then someone fired a few return shots. Jax ducked and then he watched as they were absorbed one by one into the glass of the rear window.

  “Shit’s bullet proof,” Jax mumbled, relieved.

  Enzo climbed up onto the seat and placed his finger over the dented glass before Max pulled him down and onto his lap.

  “Sit still,” he said, pushing him into the floorboard.

  “Who? Is it them? Jax,” Rani said, her voice hoarse.

  He looked back at her and caught sight of the cab gaining speed again. “Just two. We’re gonna outrun them. We’ll be fine.”

  Rani pulled Breezy into her lap and told her to close her eyes. “You too, Enzo,” she said.

  When they’d both covered their eyes, Jax watched Rani’s face, waiting for a tremor, for something to shake loose. But she was still and quiet. Not ready to break in front of them. Not yet.

  Medina reached for the radio and clogged the frequencies with his voice, spouting geographical coordinates and approaching highway signs. Bullets continued to rain down on the car and Breezy started to scream, covering her ears with her hands and wincing at each ding and flashing spark. They fell lower, ricocheting off of the pavement, jumping in sparks inches from the car’s tires.

  “Shit, they’re trying to blow us out.”

  Medina rolled down his window again and fired at the man behind the wheel. He ducked and the cab swerved but it didn’t slow.

  “Take the wheel,” he told Jax.

  Jax gripped it tight, holding it steady. Then Medina turned to face the other car, squared up his shot, and pulled the trigger. The driver of the cab slumped into his seat, reaching for his arm. The man next to him wrestled with the wheel but the tires were already sliding into the ditch. Someone fired a few return shots, Medina jerking with a howl as one of the bullets clipped his hand. He fell against the seat, Jax still holding the wheel.

  “Here,” Medina said, handing Jax a handgun. “If they get too close.”

  Jax clutched the cold metal—the weight of it in his hands and the sound of the cab’s tires clawing after them making the hairs on his arms stand on end. He tried not to think about the last time he’d been holding a gun. He tried to remind himself that this was different, that he was different. But as he gripped the handle, his eyes on the moving target just outside his window, he wasn’t so sure.

  Another long barrel emerged from one of the back windows of the cab and Jax saw it growing larger in the passenger side window as the car gained speed again, the injured driver still able to press on the gas. A loud crack exploded and then black rubber littered the road behind them.

  The car jerked to the right and Medina steadied his foot on the brake. Another shot was fired and the back tire exploded, sending them careening toward an empty field. The car galloped through the grass, sending Jax tumbling out of his seat and into the foot space.

  They lugged to a stop and Medina opened the driver’s side door, stumbling out as he tried to position the gun along the hood. Jax lowered his window a few inches, exposing the barrel of the gun. Then he took a deep breath and fired. The sound swelled inside the small car until it felt like it was vibrating along his skin but he didn’t have time to absorb the shock.

  He fired again, this time actually aiming for the face of one of the men, a face he recognized. Salazar Marcum, a half Dominican half Irish hit man his brother hired freelance to take care of runners he was sick of being outsmarted by. Rani was high priority and with Marcum on her trail Pascual knew he’d be rid of her in a matter of hours, or longer depending on how much time Marcum spent torturing her first.

  Marcum slid out of the backseat and anchored himself behind the car. Jax looked for openings, holding his breath for a hint of exposed skin, waiting for Marcum to spend one second too long squaring up his shot with his head hovering above the roof of the car. But he was a professional killer. He wasn’t going to make a mistake, especially not with Medina as a potential survivor, a potential witness. No. He would make sure all of them were dead.

  A flame hurled toward the car, the liquid inside the glowing bottle littering the ground, flames licking across the passenger door. Before Jax could get off another shot a second bottle smashed across the roof of the car.

  Medina yelled and tumbled backwards, one hand covering his eyes while the other tried to push himself back onto his feet. “Get them out,” he yelled.

  Jax climbed over the center console and out of the car. He crouched low to the ground as he opened the back door and then one by one, Rani and her siblings rushed out of the car.

  “What do we do?” Max said.

  Jax looked to Medina who was kneeling behind the hood, still firing. Jax tried to take position near the rear but the flames had already grown too high.

  “We have to run,” Jax said. “Medina we have to get out of here.”

  A stream of lights came racing up the road ushering a trio of police cars into the desolate field. Two of the vehicles maneuvered themselves between Medina’s burning car and the cab while the third pulled close enough that Medina could throw open the door and lead Rani and her family inside.

  “You too. Get in,” Medina said to Jax. “I have to get these kids to the safe house,” Medina told one of the officers.

  “Take my car,” the man said as he and his partner raced to join
the other officers in their standoff.

  “Let’s go,” Medina said, throwing the door closed behind him.

  Jax could see the metal exterior of the cab flying off in shards and starting to collapse. Eventually Marcum abandoned the others and took off on foot into the dark field. And as they started to drive away, Jax watched his shadow disappear within a small cluster of trees, the dark night swallowing him whole, and then he was gone.

  Chapter 32

  Rani

  Breezy buried her face in Rani’s shirt.

  “Try to sleep,” Rani told her. “It’s ok, just close your eyes.”

  The next town crept up over the horizon, its harsh street lights flying past them as Medina pressed down hard on the gas. Rani stared out the window at the shadows of tall trees that almost eclipsed their steel counterparts. She tried to imagine what the buildings looked like during the day—sunlight casting blinding reflections along their glassy surfaces. She almost wanted to nudge Breezy awake and tell her to look.

  For the first time they were really seeing the United States they had always dreamed about, they were seeing the life they should have started living weeks ago. Rani felt the sting, tears clinging to the swollen skin just under her eyes.

  They passed a dark green sign that read New Bedford before easing into the late night traffic and rolling through brick paved neighborhoods and past quaint dimly lit boutiques with home-made closed signs in the windows. Then the neighborhoods receded and a narrow road led them out onto the beachfront. They crossed a small bridge covered in sand and came to a large house with light blue shudders and a faint orange porch light.

  Medina pulled to a stop in front of the porch steps and a thin silhouette stepped through the front door and into the light. Max threw open his door, pulling Enzo out by the wrist. Nadia knelt down and pulled Enzo into her chest, one hand squeezing Max’s shoulder as Breezy ran to wedge herself in the middle of their embrace. She was crying again, but this time so fiercely that almost no sound came out. Instead she just rested her head on Nadia’s shoulder with her mouth opened wide and her eyes closed.

  Rani leaned against the side of the car, stretching her legs and trying to catch a solid glimpse of herself in the moonlit window. She was afraid of what Nadia was about to see. She knew how she felt, how stiff and bruised, every inch of her aching. But she had a horrible feeling that she looked even worse.

  When she moved toward them she suddenly wished she could run, that she could will her body to stop wasting so much time. Instead she was forced to drag it up the steps as if she was carrying the luggage they’d lost and not her own flesh and bones.

  Nadia stood, Breezy and Enzo’s hands slipping from her as she reached for Rani. Rani wrapped her other arm around her sister’s neck and pressed her face into her hair. The two of them stood like that, collapsed into one another, and Rani could feel tears running down her neck, though who they belonged to she wasn’t sure. Finally, arms heavy, she let go of her sister and let her lead her into the house.

  The inside was bare, all white walls and empty space. There was a table in the kitchen, though it was missing a refrigerator and there were no chairs for them to sit at. And beyond that there was a small loveseat, the single piece of usable furniture in a large living area, draped with a soft piece of fabric that Rani recognized.

  “Is that?”

  Nadia nodded.

  It was the blanket Nadia, Rani, and Max had each used when they were kids before their mother had to crochet a bigger one for the twins. Rani pulled the fabric to her face, letting her fingers slip through the holes. It still smelled like their mother’s hands and Rani inhaled until her lungs were raw.

  “You can take it to your room,” Nadia said.

  “My room?” Rani glanced past her sister and up the staircase.

  “We’ll be staying here for a while.”

  “Wait. Why here?” Max said.

  “We’ll be safe here.” Nadia reached out a hand, squeezing Max’s shoulder. “Franco is going to help us.”

  He shrugged free. “Franco?”

  “What’s going on Nadia?” Rani said, letting the blanket slip back onto the chair.

  Rani examined her sister. She looked thin but she also looked clean. She even had a kiss of blush on her cheeks and her clothes looked new and ironed. There were no bruises on her, no cuts or scars. No dark circles under eyes or tangles in her long black hair.

  “Is it safe for them to look around upstairs?” Rani asked.

  “Yes,” Nadia answered, her voice wary.

  Rani kept her gaze on Nadia as she spoke. “Will you take them Max?”

  Max shook his head. “Whatever explanation she has for all of this, I deserve to hear it to. We all do.”

  “Later,” Rani snapped. “Right now I need to talk to her alone.”

  “Rani.”

  “Max just go.”

  Max scooped Breezy into his arms and led Enzo up the narrow stairs to the second floor. Nadia was staring at the ground, arms clutching her waist.

  “Look at me,” Rani said.

  “Rani, please.”

  “Is this where you’ve been all this time? Were you ever really in danger? Why weren’t you there to meet us? We’ve been—”

  “I’m sorry,” Nadia said, reaching for Rani’s hand. “None of this was supposed to happen this way.”

  “That’s what Medina said.” Rani slipped out of her grasp. “How do you know him? What’s really going on?”

  “Do you want to sit?” Nadia said, holding out her arm.

  Rani reached for the edge of the loveseat instead and lowered herself down with a wince. “Tell me right now. Everything.”

  Nadia eyed the space next to Rani but she didn’t move to sit. She stood there, one hand gripping her forearm. “I met Detective Medina on my first trip here,” she said. “He saw me leaving the Chinese restaurant where they thought Pascual had been laundering money. He picked me up and I thought he was going to arrest me.” She shook her head. “I was so scared. He said he knew what I was doing and who I was working for. But then he asked me if they paid me well and if they ever threatened to hurt me. I didn’t answer him at first. I really thought I was going to go to prison. I thought I would never see you or Max or…any of you ever again. But then he said he wanted to help me. He said if I would agree to tell him everything I knew that he would help me.”

  “He asked you to spy on them?”

  “I told him no, at first. I told him I wasn’t planning on working for them for much longer and he said he understood.”

  “He just let you go? I don’t understand.”

  “I didn’t either. For a few minutes I just sat there, not saying anything and not getting out of the car. Then I started thinking. I’d always known it was dangerous. But I’d always thought I could handle it. I thought as long as I’m smart, as long as I can convince them that they can trust me then everything will be ok. But then suddenly having someone offer to help me, it just felt good not to have to do it on my own anymore. I thought about what he was offering me and it was too good to pass up.”

  “So just like that you told a cop what you were doing? What you were planning on doing once you earned enough money?”

  “No.” Nadia paused. “I didn’t tell him everything at first. All I did was agree to tell him what I knew. Which wasn’t much. They’d been following Pascual’s operation for a few years already. But they’d just recently started trying to reach out to the mules; especially the women who they knew would probably be willing to talk to them in exchange for their safety.”

  “But that’s a lie,” Rani said. “The police can’t really protect you or any of the rest of them. You know that.”

  “I do.”

  Rani narrowed her eyes. “So what were you really trading?”

  Nadia stared at the floor. “Collateral. If something happened to me,” she stopped, looking at Rani. “He said he would find you, that he’d take care of the rest of you.”

 
“Well he found us,” Rani said. “I should be dead right now, Nadia. I should be.”

  Nadia stared at her hands. “We’re safe now.”

  “Are we? You barely know him.”

  “I know him,” Nadia said, her voice sharp. “I still trust him. Medina’s uncle is a priest. They work with immigrants every day, helping them find work or places to stay while they get their papers in order. Someone from the nunnery was supposed to be there to meet you. She was supposed to bring you here. But they…got to her first.”

  “Was that the address you had in your jacket pocket?”

  “You found that?”

  “We went there. We went there to look for you but they sent us away. They threw us out when they saw Jax.”

  Nadia’s eyes flashed to the silhouette just outside the window. “Jax?”

  “He was helping us. He was translating for us.” Rani grew quiet, picking at a scab on the back of her hand. “That’s when they took me,” she said, “and Jax. They threw us out of the church and by the time we made it to the street Pascual was there.”

  “But my things. There’s no way you could—”

  “Jax. He found them for us.”

  “How?”

  Rani looked at Nadia. “Jax is Pascual’s brother. We’d been following him, hoping he would lead us to you.”

  Rani watched her sister’s face, shadows she hadn’t seen before growing darker.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s ok.” Rani glanced toward the window. “He saved my life Nadia.”

  Medina’s silhouette slipped into view, shadow bleeding with Jax’s on the other side of the window and Nadia grew still.

  “How did you even know where to look? How did you—”

  “I just tried to remember all of the things you’d told me about the city—names of streets, of restaurants. You said you always dropped the drugs at a restaurant that had painted windows like the ones we saw in that picture Mom had of her great uncle’s restaurant in Bogotá. You said it was near China town on a street that started with the letter Q. You said the hideout was hidden between the storefronts and the alley and that there was more than one entrance.