Page 83 of Vasily the Nail

I peel myself off him. Leave it to me, stupid, paranoid, drug-addled me, to nearly kill Artyom because I let him drown in a mouthful of blood.

My hand slips in the warm puddle growing around him, and he coughs again.

Just coughs.

“Brother, say something.”

He opens his mouth, but only wet, ragged breath comes out.

In the middle of his shirt, his black shirt, there’s a damp patch. A tiny hole at the center, no bigger than a dime.

I put my hand over it, and though he’s the one with the hole going straight through his body, I’m the one whose heart is leaking out.

“No,” I groan. “No. No. No, no, no, no.” My breathing goes heavy as I tear the shirt apart.

His breath goes shallow.

Rapid Spanish surrounds us. I speak the language, but I don’t understand what they’re saying. And I don’t understand why they’re whispering when they need to be yelling for help. Calling 911, calling a doctor, calling someone, anyone.

I don’t understand why their whispers transport me to that moment two weeks ago when I was so fucked up I could see the words coming out of my own mouth.

And this tiny little nothing of a girl whispered the same words — different words but the same words but different — but different words in that same hushed tone.

They’re not the same words.

But they are.

Prayers.

But they’re not.

And Artyom blinks oh, so slowly as he reaches up and grabs my shirt, pulling it, and it’s Ana pulling on my shirt. She’s so fucking weak and he’s so fucking weak and I go to him as I would go to her because he is my heart the same as she is my heart.

“Brother, no,” I groan as I touch my forehead to his and tears trickle down his cheeks.

Not his.

Mine.

My tears.

My life.

I tell him, “Don’t you leave me,” but I was the one who was going to leave.

I was going to leave him, just vanish into nothing, a ghost. I was going to be his ghost.

He taps my chest. My heart. He’s stealing my heart. He’s stealing my life.

You’re going to die in Flagstaff.

One last weak, terrible, breath, the most useless breath on planet Earth, and then his eyes fade. His body deflates beneath me.

The clock starts ticking.

I’m going to die in Flagstaff.

I’m going to take the world with me.

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