Page 85 of Genesis
Carson runs to the car, and I hear gurgling from the guy who was shot in the throat.
He’s dying, but he shouldn’t have followed us. Goddammit, he shouldn’t have followed us. Carson runs back with a towel and I grab it, placing it on Mickey’s leg.
“Shit,” he says, grinding his teeth.
“You’re gonna be okay,” I say. “Help me get him in the car.” I point to Johnny. Johnny and I lift Mickey up and carry him to the car as Carson opens the door.
“What about those two?” Carson says, looking at the men on the ground. Mickey groans from the back seat, his face glazed with sweat. He wipes his brow with his bloody hand, causing a streak.
“Fuck them. We need to get him to a hospital,” I say.
“Can’t do that,” Johnny says.
“Johnny, he’s fucking bleeding out, man.” Carson points out the obvious, but I know Johnny is right. They’ll ask too many questions. Of course, we could lie, but they’ll report it and we have a reputation.
“Either way, we need to drive,” I say. No one disagrees and we climb into the car. Johnny hightails it out of here, and Mickey curses in the back.
“Take me to the clubhouse. Moretti knows a nurse. She can help.”
He lets out a strangled laugh. “I always knew this shit was going to get me killed.”
“You’re not going to die,” I tell him, looking back. The towel is soaked with blood now. I’m no doctor, but this doesn’t look good at all.
He’s losing too much blood. His face is as white as a ghost. His eyes look to mine, and right then, I see fear and the truth. He is going to die.
“Go faster, Johnny. Carson, call Moretti. Get that nurse ready. Goddammit, what the fuck happened?” I say, slamming my fist into the dash. My hands shake as Mickey moans in pain. Johnny is going a hundred miles per hour, and Carson talks on the phone, using code to say our situation. I grab my smokes from the pocket door, lighting one as my mind races.
I look over at Johnny just as he looks at me. We say with our eyes what our mouths can’t at this moment.
This is the life we signed up for. This is the shit show we chose. I look away from my friend, my eyes going to the window as thoughts chase each other.
What if I left this all behind? What if I took Bexley and got the hell out of here? I don’t want to be Mickey, lying in the back seat, dying because of some stupid meth head.
“Danny,” Carson says to me.
I look back as his eyes dart to Mickey. I twist, looking myself. My eyes shut for a brief moment and I take in a breath, making the sign of the cross over my chest.
“Slow the car,” I say.
We head back to Moretti’s in silence as the blackness of death surrounds us. I look at the dried blood on my hands and say a silent prayer for Mickey.
___________________
“What the fuck happened?” Moretti barks as we walk into the clubhouse.
Johnny takes a seat at the bar, and I lean back against the wall.
“Some fucking meth heads. That’s what happened,” Carson says, flicking his rubber band.
“Meth heads?” Moretti says. “You let some goddamn tweakers do this shit?” He looks at me.
“I didn’t let anybody do anything,” I reply lowly.
“Don’t speak to me in that tone, Danny. This is a fucking shit show.”
“I wasn’t in charge. The man who was in charge is lying cold in Johnny’s back seat!” I yell. I grab a bottle from the bar and throw it at the wall.
“Well, you clean it up!” he says. “Because you’re in charge now.”
