by Sasha Leone
It seems obvious. Cat. Oscar.
But what about my empire? What about Cali and Colombia and the revolution?
My once frozen heart beats with a wild pulse, free of its frigid confines. For maybe the first time in my adult life, I’m unguarded and vulnerable, and my first reaction to that was to lash out on those I’m trying to protect.
“Why won’t you let me save you,” I growl under my breath.
Catalina doesn’t seem to hear me. She’s too busy trying to console a crying baby. I did that to Oscar, I made him cry.
Fucking hell.
The thought blinds me with rage. My clenched fist finds the brick wall, punching a hole right through it. The wind that tunnels through the new hole crashes against my chest. It’s like being splashed by a bucket of cold water, and, for a moment, it’s enough to temporarily cool my jets.
But then the ground rumbles from a battle that should be giving us an opening to escape through and the fire returns.
Why does Catalina have to be so fucking stubborn!?
“We need to go back to Wilmar’s,” I hear her mumble through the wind. Her head darts on a swivel as she tries to find a route back to safety. If only she knew how unsafe we really are...
“It’s too late to turn back,” I say, stepping towards her. She flinches backwards, turning her shoulder to me as if to protect Oscar from my fury.
Guilt battles anger as my conscience threatens to tear itself apart.
“How do we get back to Wilmar’s!?” Catalina demands, the fire in her eyes directed entirely on me.
A distant blast shakes the ground and I know that our opening is dwindling. If I don’t get these two out of here now, then all of this will have been for nothing.
I step forward again, but Cat is so filled with hate towards me that she’d rather step out from behind the protective brick wall and brave the storm than let me fucking explain to her what’s happening.
“Enough!” I boom.
That gets her to freeze. The swirling wind lifts up her dark hair and wipes the tears from her cheeks. It doesn’t stop Oscar from crying, though. My exposed heart threatens to burn into ashes. “You hear those explosions?” I growl, pointing to the west. Just as I do, another blast shakes the ground. “Those are for you. People are dying to help you escape, and you’re wasting the opportunity they’ve provided. Why!?”
Cat’s guilt furrows her brow. Her eyes follow my outstretched arm before quickly darting back down to Oscar. I can practically hear the internal struggle that’s threatening to tear her apart. Suddenly, I just want to hold her and tell her everything will be alright.
We shouldn’t be fighting each other.
The longer she takes to respond, though, the less I want anything to do with her. She’s putting our son at risk...
Oscar’s continued cries stab me in the chest like ice picks. I need to end this. “Cat...”
“Catalina!” Someone else calls her name before I can get any closer.
“It’s Catalina!” another voice shouts. I don’t recognize either of them.
The wind greets me with a tempered blow as I lunge out from behind the brick wall and instinctively put myself between Cat and those who call her name.
“... And Angel! Oh, my lord!”
The faces of the ragtag group filing in through a nearby alleyway aren’t familiar, but it’s instantly obvious who they are.
Revolutionaries. My revolutionaries.
There are no weapons in their hands, but they seem bruised and battered from some past battle. What are they doing here?
Probably slinking home to rest...
“Sir, sir, it’s an honor to finally meet you!” A man rushes up to me. My initial reaction is to clench my fists and step forward.
Doesn’t he know that he’s interrupting a family matter?
... Of course not.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in the slums!” Another man cries, rushing up to my side. “A true man of the people!”
The wind seems to ease temporarily as I shake the hands of the two men who have obviously been fighting for my cause. I’ve given speeches to those like them countless times before, but I purposely never get too close. Cat has already injected me with enough guilt; the last thing I need is to get attached to anyone else—especially anyone who is putting their life on the line to follow my vision.
Back when I ran my cartel, I had hundreds of loyal soldiers to do my bidding, but barely even a handful of men who I would ever have considered sharing a drink with. That’s just how life is when you’re a leader. These people aren’t your friends, they’re your followers.
... Maybe that’s why you failed.
“Catalina, you are as—” the man who currently shakes my hand tries to approach the mother of my child, but I tighten my grip around his palm, pulling him back, and his words catch in his throat.
There are too many people rushing at us to stop them all, though. They approach like worshippers, respectful but rabid.
“Who is that crying!?” I hear someone ask, and I’m immediately on the offensive.
“A child!”
“Who’s baby is that?”
“Are those green eyes I see?”
A small group of women are at Cat’s side before I can stop them.
Fucking hell. No one else can know about Oscar.
“Enough!” I command, hoping that my orders work better on these people than they have on Catalina.
Sure enough, everybody freezes. Curious eyes draw away from Oscar and land on me instead.
“Where are you coming from?” I ask, subtly trying to gesture with my eyes for Cat to leave. She’s not looking at me, though. Oscar’s cries are finally starting to fade and she’s desperately trying to sooth him down the rest of the way.
“We were tasked with putting down land mines over by the quarry,” a man responds.
I’m familiar with that mission. Juan and Jesus and I have been sending out groups to strategically place explosives around important routes and landmarks, so that, if we ever need to, we can funnel our enemies down whatever path works best for us.
“And, were you successful?” I ask, slowly backing up so that I can nudge Cat in the right direction.
“Yes, sir!” A younger man proudly announces. “If those bastards try anything with our water supply, we’ll blow them right to hell!”
A small cheer washes over the little crowd.
Finally, I reach Cat’s side... but it’s too late.
“He’s got the same green eyes as his father,” one of the women sings.
“Oh, no... I mean... uh,” Cat stumbles over her words as it becomes clear to her what’s at risk. Oscar has calmed down, and his big curious eyes are trying to make sense of all these new people.
“Don’t worry,” another woman warmly assures Cat. “He’s got your nose!”
“What’s his name?” Someone asks.
“It’s not safe out here for such a child,” another adds.
I take that as our way out. “You’re right,” I agree, wrapping my arm around Cat’s shoulder. She’s trembling. “We need to go. Thank you for your sacrifice, everyone!” I bellow. “We fight for you!”
“I’m fighting for you!” Someone shouts.
“You and your family!” another adds.
A burly middle-aged man with a fresh scar across his weathered face raises his fist. “To Angel. To Catalina. To their child. And to a new and free Colombia!”
The crowd roars and I force myself to raise my fist with them. It’s the last thing I want to do right now. These people may be on my side, but there’s no way they’re keeping their mouths shut about this. News of where they saw Cat and I will spread like wildfire... and so will news of our child.
“That was a fucking disaster,” I grumble, slamming the bedroom door shut behind us.
Cat sits down on the bed with Oscar as I pace back and forth by the window. We were far enough away from Wilmar’s when we were spotted that no
one should know where we’re staying, but we were still close enough to put this whole area in potential danger.
What the fuck are we supposed to do now? Where else is there to go?
A little burp escapes from my wriggling son and my chest pounds with shame. What kind of father am I? My son is homeless; he has nothing, and it’s all my fucking fault.
The last thing I want to do is look at my failure, but Oscar calls for me and a primal instinct pulls me back towards the bed.
I stop in my tracks, though, when I see Cat absent-mindedly rubbing her throat. Pangs of guilt rip through my gut; it only serves to make me angrier at myself. I’m losing control, of my army, of my family, of myself.
“Dada! Dada!” Oscar reaches out for me. Cat’s eyes drift off, lost in some distant thought. It’s almost like I’m alone again.
“Dada!” Well, not completely alone.
My anger hardly falters, even as I pick my son up from his mother’s limp arms. “They know...” she whispers as Oscar’s little fingers wander over my face, pulling at my nose and then tugging at my ear.
“We should have kept going,” I grumble. “We would have missed them if we kept going.” I know accusing Catalina of sabotaging us is not the smart thing to do right now, but it seems like I can’t stop myself from making dumb decisions anymore.
Her eyes drift back to the here and now and I’m met with an icy glare. “We should have never left in the first place.... We’re supposed to be partners in this,” she says, gesturing towards the little monkey crawling over my shoulders. “I’m not your slave.”
“You’re my responsibility,” I growl, tugging down gently on Oscar’s ankle as he rolls a little too far over my shoulder. The little boy giggles as he slides back down my chest and into my arms, but he’s not satisfied yet. There’s still more climbing to do. I let him; his innocent exploring is the only thing keeping me from exploding right now.
Cat looks like she’s about to explode. Instead, though, she just bites down on her tongue and takes a deep breath. “What do we do now?”
The truth is that I don’t know, but I don’t dare tell her that. Our underground bunker was the only true safe haven in this city. Sure, Wilmar’s place is the next best thing, but, as was just made evident, it’s far from secure—especially if we decide to have shouting matches in the street...
“We stay here,” I say, hiding the uncertainty from my tone.
“But they know we’re here, and they know about Oscar...”
“They don’t know we’re at Wilmar’s,” I interrupt, ignoring the second, more worrying, part of her statement. People will know we have a son now. Eventually, word will get back to Dante...
Fucking hell.
If Cat hadn’t resisted, we might have already been clear of this hellhole by now. We’d be safe, and my biggest worry would be whether or not to return and help finish off Dante once and for all.
“Do you think they’ll come for us?” Cat asks, her voice starting to tremble. “... Do you think he will come for us?” The fear she holds for my brother is well founded, but it pisses me off, nonetheless.
“He can try,” I growl.
“No, he can’t!” Cat cries, suddenly standing up. “If he comes for us, then we’re screwed. Do you think he’ll let us live anymore? You haven’t seen him in two years. He regrets letting you live. The satisfaction of his cruelty has worn off. I was only a hostage to him; only a pawn to help keep you away and him alive, but now that you’ve stolen me back there’s nothing keeping him from dropping a bomb on this entire block and wiping us out for good!”
Oscar wraps his tiny arms around my neck and hangs on like a mountain climber. Suddenly, all I want to do is play with him.
... Maybe, if Cat had followed my orders, we’d already be roughhousing in the back of some car on the way to true safety...
“Calm down,” I order, gesturing towards our playful little boy. It stings my heart to think that he’s already gotten used to us fighting—or maybe it’s just because this fight isn’t quite as bad as the one that woke him up outside.
“How can I calm down!? Oscar is at risk...”
“You’re the one who wanted to stay.”
That might have been the wrong thing to say. “Don’t put this on me!” Cat yells, crossing her arms and plunging back down onto the rickety mattress. The bedsprings creak under her weight and my anger wanes just a little bit.
There’s no point in blaming anyone but myself for this. Cat is right, our relationship shouldn’t be a battle of power. If we’re going to survive, we need to be partners.
In my arms, Oscar reaches for his sulking mother. I sigh and lead him over to the bed, sitting on the far side of the small mattress to give Cat some space.
She turns her back and Oscar crawls out of my arms. I can feel Catalina relax ever so slightly when Ozzy starts crawling up her back.
“Hey, baby boy,” she sighs, leaning back on the mattress so that the clumsy infant can climb over her.
“Mama,” he gurgles, before his big green eyes wander over to me. “Dada.”
The heavy pit in my chest gets a little smaller, but a whole lot deeper.
What the hell am I going to do?
25
Catalina
Did I fall asleep?
Oscar breathes softly on my chest as I try to blink through the darkness of our little bedroom.
“Angel?” The fire from our fight is still there, but at least it’s only smoldering now. I think we both had the same realization at the exact same time; if Ozzy’s going to stay safe, then it’s going to have to be a team effort.
“I’m right here,” he grumbles, playing with his phone by the shut window.
I sit up in bed, careful not to wake Oscar. “What are we going to do?” I ask, still a little drowsy.
“For now, all we can do is wait,” he sighs. “I finally got through to Juan while you napped, but he couldn’t talk. Once he gets back to us, we’ll know where to go next. Until then, we just need to rest.”
Angel looks tired. A stubborn determination laces his features, but it can’t hide his exhaustion. Fear nibbles at my pounding heart. Did I make the wrong choice earlier? Would we already be safe if I hadn’t resisted?
I don’t dare ask. If the answer is yes, and something ends up happening, I don’t know how I could live with myself...
Suddenly, the silence of the room is broken by a harsh buzz.
Angel immediately answers his ringing cell phone. “What is it!?” He almost doesn’t get the words out, because I can already hear Juan shouting from the other end of the line.
“You need to get out of there now!”
My stomach drops just as the first bomb does.
Wilmar’s house shakes and I’m thrown across the bed. Somehow, I manage to grab hold of Oscar before my back smacks against the nearest wall. For a second, the wind is knocked out of me. Everything is quiet again. Then, through the drawn drapes of our bedroom window, I see the orange glow of fire... and then I hear Oscar start to cry.
“It’s okay, baby,” I try to sooth him as Angel jumps to his feet. The blast was even strong enough to knock him on his ass.
Claws of pure dread slash across my pounding heart. How close was that explosion?
Another burst somewhere nearby shakes the walls. I curl around Oscar and Angel stumbles over to the bedroom closet. “We need to get on the roof!” he yells, throwing clothes from their hangers as he searches for the secret door.
A gust of wind tunnels into our bedroom and I know he’s found it. I’m immediately on my feet, Oscar braced against my chest, as I make a run for the quickest way out of here.
Angel holds the little half-door open for me as I crouch down and carry Oscar out into the fiery night. A strong humid wind greets us, as does shouts and wails and another explosion.
Unsettled dust rises from the short cement staircase that leads to the roof as I scurry up it. Angel follows close behind. The smell of fire is in the air.
When I stumble onto Wilmar’s roof, it becomes clear why.
The slums are ablaze.
Great flames flicker up to the moonless sky as the orange glow of the destruction reflects off the bottom of the stormy clouds above.
A desperate sadness escapes my lips and my knees threaten to buckle... but then I hear Oscar’s cries and I force myself to push forward.
“Fuck,” Angel grumbles as he comes up from behind me.
For an awful moment, we just stand there and stare.
“Is this my fault?” I whisper.
Angel doesn’t answer. Instead, his strong hand finds my shoulder and he pushes me in the right direction. “This way,” he says, and I follow him.
Memories of the destruction I found back in my old home town all those years ago flash behind my eyelids as I desperately try to keep up with Angel. He’s moving so fast, and I feel so heavy. Everywhere I go, people die, communities burn, families are torn apart...
Suddenly, Angel’s at my side again. “Give him to me,” he demands, and even though I don’t want to let go, I know it’s for the best. He grabs Oscar from my arms, but instead of running off, he grabs my hand and looks me in the eyes. “Don’t pay attention to anything else,” he says, low and forceful. “Just watch me.”
His big hands tighten around my little fingers and I can feel his pulse through his burning skin. My eyes follow his rippling back muscles and he pulls me forward. Oscar cries in his arms, and I just want to pull us all to a stop and sooth my distressed little boy... but I know that it could mean the death of us.
Keep fighting, Catalina.
“Jump!” Angel booms, and for some reason, there’s no hesitation in me. My feet leave the ground, but the effort sends my gaze downwards.
A primal fear grips my nerves as I see nothing below me but air. We’re three stories high, and we just jumped across the space between buildings.
Another explosion rocks the world and the resulting fireball lights up the night. Glass shatters and women scream. Through the chaos, I swear I hear someone yell, “Up there!” but it could just be my twisted imagination.