Page 32 of Vicious Hearts

The car blitzesthrough the jungle, the metal of the four-wheel drive getting lashed by branches and foliage. There is a narrow winding strip of dirt for the car to move in and out of the jungle to get to the house. It’s not an actual road, so I doubt many people even know the house is here unless they chance upon it by accident. It’s in the remotest area of the rainforest, so far in by foot that not many people could make the hike without first dying of dehydration. Most people, he tells me, make it as far as the lagoon then turn back, and even then, that’s a massive trek from the mouth of the forest.

We drive through the jungle for almost forty minutes before we emerge into a clearing, then move onto a small road that leads to a main freeway. The house is so out of the way, the route so convoluted, I can understand why he likes being here; the privacy that’s afforded him is second to none. -

We drive along the freeway, comfortable in the silence that fills the space between us. Caleph has brought my hand across to him and placed it on his knee, telling me to leave it there. I almost swoon. This man. He makes me feel things I never thought possible.

When we leave the freeway, we take an off-ramp and do a little turn until we’re travelling down lively, vibrant streets and I’m struck by the culture of this architecturally beautiful city.

The car travels through the streets, Caleph promising to bring me back soon to do some sight-seeing. I’m in awe every which way I look. The sheer beauty of the city demands my attention, and I can’t believe that Guatemala was never on my bucket list.

When we’re stopped at a red light, Caleph looks over at me, smiling as he tells me about the first time he came to Guatemala. As the light turns green and he starts to move again, there is a loud screech followed by a deafening skid, like the road is chewing up rubber then spitting it out again. I see a black van appear out of nowhere, tilting dangerously to one side as it heads toward our car, a non-stop nuclear missile with a target in its sight. I don’t even have time to scream, my voice suspended somewhere between my mouth and the air around me. The van is travelling so fast, hurtling into our car at breakneck speed. It pushes us across the road with such force that the four-wheel drive starts to spin violently in the middle of the street, narrowly avoiding other vehicles which have fallen back. There is another loud bang, and the van pushes into us again, Caleph trying to regain control of the car, before we are pushed again and we go flying into a pole, hitting it with a thunderous clap that has the car bouncing from side to side before it hisses and groans in agony.

* * *

I’m in excruciating pain.I can’t feel anything beyond that. It’s as though I’ve detached from my body, and oh God, is that my soul leaving my aching bones? I try to move, my head heavy with distress, and I can feel something wet against my temple. I look over at Caleph – his side of the vehicle is the one that hit the pole and he’s sustained the most damage. There are cuts and abrasions on his face and his arms, and his face is plastered to the steering wheel, his limp and unmoving body stirring my anxiety.

“Cal… Caleph. Caleph.”

My voice is hoarse, my throat parched as I feel a spear pierce my heart. He’s not moving. I know I’m about to fall apart, because I can’t even move enough to release my seat belt and slide toward him.

“Caleph,” my voice comes louder, laced with desperation, but there’s still no movement from his side of the car. An overwhelming desire to scream consumes me. Whereiseveryone? I move shaking hands to my seat belt, fumbling with the clip, pushing at it until it releases, but I still can’t move my body.

The sound of voices reaches my ears, and I’m grateful that finally help has arrived. I sigh as I try to edge toward Caleph, but I still can’t move, my body helplessly immobile. It feels like something is stuck. I swallow back the pain as I try to take stock of my senses, all the places that hurt, and how to maneuver out of the car.

I’m suddenly being propelled out of the vehicle by strong arms reaching into the car and pulling me out, dragging me from it violently, even as I hear the shattering of glass and the spark of something crackling.

I’m still being dragged across the ground, my feet biting painfully into the pavement, but I’m moving so quickly and so far, something feels off to be handled this way. Until I come to a stop at the doors of a van, and someone starts to haul me in, the scenario not in keeping with a car accident. An ambulance would never transport a victim this way.

I fight with what little energy I have, but it’s no use. I’m smaller and I’m hurt. I hold on to the door with everything in me, trying to stop from being carried away by some stranger whose motives are dubious at best. But despite my efforts, I’m launched into the van, falling on my side with a bang. I quickly rise, casting my eyes toward the four-wheel drive, and even as the door closes on me, I can’t undo the trauma of watching the car spark and catch fire, the flames moving through the vehicle quickly.

28

CALEPH

Everything hurts. Every fucking bone in my body feels like it’s on fire. Someone hauls me out of the car just as it bursts into flames and threatens to swallow the city whole. My eyes adjust to the carnage around me as my body heaves, every muscle aching. My gaze swings across the road, and I watch in horror as Ariadne is hauled into a van and driven off, helpless to do anything but watch it happen.

A murderous energy surges through me. I may be hurt, but my heart is working just fine, and I feel her absence as though someone has driven a knife through my heart. I can hear the ambulance in the distance, and I know I need to get up and out of here now, otherwise there’ll be too many questions, which will just delay me finding Ariadne. I will burn this city down trying to find her knowing that if one strand of her hair is harmed, I will roast those bastards over a spit fire then feed them to my dogs.

I fumble in my pocket for my phone, bring it out to find the screen has shattered. It’s still usable, but I can barely hold it between my fingers for all the pain I feel, while a bystander is telling me to stay calm; that help is on the way.

I finally manage to unlock the phone. I open it and send an SOS to the dedicated number I have for such situations. The SMS is sent to one number, which then on sends to my emergency contacts list with my coordinates. The beauty of having so much money is that I have people everywhere. And when I say everywhere, I mean I could even have people on Mars if I needed them there.

And sure enough, it’s only a few minutes before a car skids to a halt beside me. The doors fling open, and two men rush out, lift me off the sidewalk and bundle me into the car before skidding off again. We’re weaving through traffic until they stop at a little house where I know one of our doctors resides. They must have called ahead, because he’s at the door even before they’ve come around to grab me and carry me into his home where he has a makeshift medical room.

He patches me up and inserts a needle into my arm to prohibit infections. Drowsiness washes over me and I fight it with everything in me as I try to get up and do the impossible. I have to find Ariadne. But I’m too far gone, and my body shuts down seconds before I go folding to the ground.

* * *

When I come to,a giant of a man has his back turned to me as he discusses something with the doctor in the corner of the room. Attila.

My torso is bandaged, the cloth well tied around my body. I can feel the tiny pinpricks of pain in my face where I was slashed and decimated after the car accident. Everything aches; there’s no doubt in my mind that the accident was no accident. I will make it my life's mission to find out who intercepted the car meaning to do us harm, and hell hath no fury like a man on the war path.

It takes me a moment to collect my bearings, but when I do, the sheet around me rustles noisily as I try to get up. He turns, looks at me, and the bastard rolls his eyes as I try to bite down the pain cutting through me. It’s embedded in every single bone in my body.

“About fucking time,” he mutters, coming to stand beside the bed.

“Get me my clothes,” I bite out.

“Whoa, buddy. You’re not going anywhere. You’re seriously hurt and you need to rest.”

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