Hope House (34 page)

“Run faster,” Martine said.  “He is a devil! He is coming.”

Gloria and Kurt sprinted over the plants in the woods, following Martine who was much more familiar with the terrain.

Martine put her finger to her lips and pointed once they arrived at the bottom of yet another hill.  “Doctor Tad’s car is over there, on the other side of the compound. He  leaves keys inside in case Boris needs to move it. You go. Now. Take the car and drive to Port Au Prince as fast as you can.”

“We’re not leaving you, Martine. You’re no match for him,” Kurt said.

“Please, you
must,” Martine pleaded. “There is only one road for the first hour. Just stay on it and drive fast. You will find your way.”

Gloria stepped forward. “Come with us, Martine! This is crazy.” Gloria tug
ged at Martine’s arm but she pulled away.

“No! I need to set all the fish babies free, in the river.”

“What are you talking about, Martine? Please, let’s go!” Kurt dug his feet in the dirt with impatience as Gloria pleaded with Martine.

The girl explained, “The unborn babies, in the barrels, back at the clinic.”

“The embryos?” Gloria asked.

“I—” Martine started.

Suddenly Mick appeared at the crest of the hill, his dark shape moving quickly among the tree line, near impossible to see but his footsteps crunched the brush and echoed in the night.

“I know these
woods. I will get Mr. Puglisi lost while you run.”

“No, I won’t let you—” Kurt said.

But then Martine ran. Fast. In seconds she became invisible. Mick changed course, ran in the other direction.

“Come on, Gloria. She’ll be okay.  We won’t be if we stand here. Come
on!
We’ll go back to Maison and get Boris and come back for her.”

“But—”

“Damn it, let’s go!” He yanked her arm and the two of them ran for their lives toward the front entrance.

A gunshot exploded behind them, followed by a scream and a thud.

“Oh my God. He shot her!” Gloria said too loudly as she ran toward the sound of a gunshot.

Kurt held her wrist fast. “No. And keep your voice down.”

“He did. He shot her,” she whispered.

“I think you’re right, but if he did then going toward her won’t help—and you have a baby to consider.”

“But what if she’s hurt or dead?”

Kurt stood, looking into the darkness, obviously weighing his options.
“You and the kid, stay right here. Do not move or make a sound, do you hear me?”

Gloria nodded.

“I mean it. I’ll go to her, but if you come after me and give away my location I could get killed. The scalpel I swiped from the clinic won’t be much protection against him.”

“I’ll stay right here. I promise. Thank you.”

Like Martine, in seconds, he disappeared into the shadows of the jungle. The baby was asleep, that God for that.
If she starts screaming . . .

Seconds turned into minutes and into what felt like hours. There was no sound. And then there was an explosion and Kurt emitted an inhuman cry of rage. Or was it pain?
Kurt! I don’t care what I said, I’m coming to you.

But Gloria couldn’t run to him and risk the baby making noise.  She scanned the surrounding jungle. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and now she noticed a hollowed-out tree.   A makeshift door constructed of twigs partially covered the hole. She moved the door and discovered some towels and blankets, packaged snacks and a portable radio.
This must be where the girls run to get away. They are all so innocent.

Gloria hesitated then nestled the infant onto the blanket inside the tree, covering the hole to keep anything out.
I promise I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes.
Then she ran like a bat of hell to save Kurt.

8.

Woods behind Maison D’Espoir, same time-Mick

Mick smiled when he saw the silhouette of his prey crumble to the ground.
Yes, direct hit.

Two down, two to go. Of all of them, Martine was the one he had worried least about. She didn’t speak English, she was stupid, and she had no family except Boris who could be bought. Mick figured he could probably have let Martine go because she really wasn’t a threat. Who knew if she understood what he had divulged about Luke and Donnie. Probably not. He could have just sent her off from Maison and she could have drifted around from village to village selling woven purses or something. Wood carvings maybe. Even if she told her story to the locals, no one would care. They all knew it wasn’t really a nursing school.  

But she made the mistake of preventing him from getting to Kurt and Gloria. Had she not done that, she could have kept her life.

“Oh well,” Mick said. He walked toward her
lifeless form.
I’m a great shot and I saw her fall but one more bullet to the head for insurance—

Holy shit!

From out of nowhere, Kurt Malone dove at him, screaming with primal fury, knocking the wind out of him.
He broke my ribs.

“You killed her you fuck
ing bastard!” Kurt yelled then hopped off Mick and stared down at him.

Mick had no reply. His ribs really hurt. His hand went to his chest.
Wet? Why am I wet?

Kurt reached down and pulled something out of Mick’s body. Moonlight glowed red off something silver not much bigger than a pen.
What is that? Fuck. A scalpel?

“You think that’s enough to kill me? A little fucking knife?”
I’ve still got my gun, asshole.

Mick’s hand still held the gun firm so he lifted his arm and aimed it at Kurt. “How much you wanna bet I can kill you before you can kill me?”

Kurt didn’t speak. “Put your arms up and drop the knife.” Kurt did as he was told. Mick got to his feet, took aim. Then Gloria, out of breath,  came up behind Kurt.

Mick smiled. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

“Is Martine dead?” Gloria asked Kurt.

“I’ll answer that. Ooh, a resounding
yes,
” Mick bragged.
This is falling into place just fine.
“Wait, where’s the baby? I saw you  running with it.”

“None of your fucking business,” Gloria spat.

“Really, Where is it? What the hell is wrong with you two? You can’t just leave a baby in the woods.”
No way he’d ever let people like them adopt one of his Hope House kids if they walked into his agency. No way in—

The sounds of popcorn kernels exploding out of control, bursting through the silent night, jarred him before he felt his chest split open. His body fell to the ground in slow motion; and when his body finally crashed to the ground, one hundred a
nd eighty pounds of dead weight. He knew he was royally fucked.

Bo
ris was suddenly standing beside Kurt and Gloria, a gun slung over his shoulder. 
How the hell did he sneak by? Fucking Haitian Ninja.

Mick looked down at a large circle of blood on his crisp white sweat-stained shirt. Bullet holes. Lots of them.
So this is what it feels like.

Agony. Every nerve in his body tied up together to explode into pain in his abdomen. Or his chest. The pain and blood spread too fast for him to comprehend where it hurt.

He gazed up and saw a monolith surrounded by a blue halo. “God?” he asked to the holy figure. “Am I dying?”

The shape moved and Mick saw it was only Boris with the full moon behind him.

“You killed my sister,” the giant man spat.

There was no good reply to that. 

Mick clutched his chest and wondered how long he had left. He hoped he’d pass out, die in his sleep. Not linger on and suffer with Boris relishing every second and Kurt and Gloria along for the show.

Mick’s whole life didn’t flash before his eyes. He wasn’t overcome with fear or grief or longing. There was no white light or feeling of buoyancy or great joy all those TV movie
s portrayed. What a gyp, he thought.

“Daddy?” Mick looked up. His son was standing there next to Boris in the moonlight. His hair was highlighted with a bluish tint. The light ran through him and Mick knew his son wasn’t really there but
there some kind of near-death hallucination.

“Luke?”

“You were a bad boy, Daddy. You killed my mommy and Donnie’s mommy. You killed lots of people and Luke is very mad at you.”

Mick reached out for the boy but he was just out of reach.

“No, I w-wasn’t. I’m not bad.”
God, it fucking hurts to talk
. Mick closed his eyes and when he opened them Luke was gone. Mick rolled his head to the side and searched for his phone. “Gotta ‘splain to him. Boy’s wrong. I’m a good man.”

He reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Boris, Kurt
, and Gloria stood watching him, the big ass gun aimed at his chest.

“Just getting my phone. I need to call my son. To say goodbye. And I have to say goodbye to my sister. You understand?”

He unlocked the phone and dialed the number. Thank God, it was going through.

“My sister was not allowed the chance to say goodbye,” Boris said, the semi automatic weapon just inches from Mick’s ribcage.

Gloria gently placed a hand on Boris’ arm. “Let him say goodbye. His son deserves that, even though Puglisi doesn’t.”

Malone and Boris exchanged a look and the walking monolith nodded consent.

“
Daddy?”
Luke said when he answered the phone.

“Love you, buddy. Gotta say bye now, but be good. Take care of Donnie and Auntie Angie.”

“
Daddy, Luke had a bad dream, bad man go bang-bang and—”

Boris pulled the trigger and the phone fl
ew out of Mick’s hand, its white light dancing sadly on the ground before it slid shut and went black. Boris hovered over Mick, waiting eagerly for his light to extinguish as well.

A baby’s faint cry carried through the air and Gloria and Kurt fled toward the sound. 

As Mick sank into the depths of death he felt horror, regret, sickness, and overwhelming sadness. No white light, no happiness, no relatives waiting for him. Just agony and loneliness as he felt his soul drop off into eternal blackness.

9.

Maison D’Espoir, Haiti, morning

“Gloria, got a minute?” Kurt asked.

She opened her groggy eyes. Gloria had fallen asleep feeding the baby in Tad’s bed a few hours ago.

Kurt held a large white bucket. He had dark circles under his eyes and his facial hair had grown into a rough beard in the two days since he’d shaven.

“What’s that?”

“It’s all of them. The embryos. I put some water on the bottom and just poured the Petri dishes in.”

Gloria got up slowly and put the little girl in a clear hospital bassinet they’d brought over.

“How many?”

“I’m not sure. Four, five hundred?”

“My God. You’re sure it’s all of them.”

“I cleaned out all tanks. Listen,  I know how important this was to Martine and to you. Not gonna be any more of your grandchildren born this way. This stops today.”

Gloria’s eyes filled with tears. Kurt pulled her to him. “Thank you so much for understanding. For, God, for everything you did for me,” she said.

“Just glad we came out of it alive,” he said, holding her tighter.

“Me too,” Gloria replied.

“Want me to come down to the river to help you dump them out? I mean, um, set them free?”

“I need to do this alone but thanks.” Gloria pulled away and faced him. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“Me either. Boris carried her back after we went to get the kid and now she’s in a makeshift morgue. Boris is waiting till we’re on the plane before he tells the other girls what happened. Gonna let them get their things, strip the place and take off before till he calls the authorities. Doesn’t want us messed up in all this.”

“No one’s gonna try to take our baby away are they?”

“So long as we get across the border, we’ll be fine. We’ve got the birth record so I think we’ll be okay.”

Gloria nodded. “I hope so. Hey, Boris didn’t put Mick’s body in there with Martine did he?”

Kurt shook his head. “God no. Puglisi’s right where we left him, out behind the compound. Boris said Mick’s body is never crossing the threshold of Maison D’Espoir again.”

“Good for him. Okay, let me have the bucket. Can you watch the baby?”

“Sure. Take as much time as you need.”

10.

Maison D’Espoir, Haiti, same time

Gloria heard the r
iver before she saw it. Raging. Loud. Freeing. When she approached, the mist from it took her breath away. It was a powerful current. One that would do the trick.