Consequences

CHAPTER TEN

 CRISTOBAL'S POV

 "Time froze while a reflection of my face formed across the mirror. We pitched in the same direction— My image and I tilting sideways, forcing me to face the truth storming behind: The man I had failed to put down"

 Somehow, the goon survived, and now...

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 It took everything to snap back into reality, and even more to will myself to issue another yelling order. Conveniently, by then, our vehicle had dropped on all fours, renewed in its charge towards one destination, the BQE

 Kayla had also braced up. This time, her knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, one foot pinning the pedal. Then, the sirens fired on, screaming into the heavens as her voice mingled with the dispatch, hissing alive and grating my ears, while a slew of commands boomed across the street.

 "UNIT SEVEN--CODE THREE. CLEAR THE GRID!!"

 "UNIT SEVEN ---CODE THREE. CLEAR THE GRID!!"

 A clever ruse, if you had asked me. It just made sense when you consider the colour scheme of the car and the fact that we had some friends on the blue side.

 Nonetheless, the trick worked, and soon, the traffic that clustered ahead now magically parted like the Red Sea, allowing us to cut through much more easily.

 All the while, I remained knees buckled against reinforced leather, only twisting back to my seat once the threat behind was lost to the traffic..... And the humming in my skull stopped.

 The serene calm that followed felt like a much-needed dose of normalcy.

 I didn't even know how tired my feet had been, or how long my breath was suspended for

 I didn't notice until I sighed so heavily the air within caught the exhaustion in my breath, then echoed across with a bass so deep, it left a heaving thud.

 A prompt, a sign to speak, maybe. I wasn't sure, but within a couple of silent minutes, the ice was broken

 At first, it sounded like it came from Santi's corner, but the tone was too weak and wistful. However, he now had my full attention, and it was then that I realised how much older he had gotten since we last saw each other. For one, there were more crease lines sliced across his forehead from what I could recall, and the grey in his beard had long surpassed the luxuriant lushness of brown that once grew around his jaw.

 His eyes were sombre and lucid. A stark contrast to those balls of mischief that riddled my early childhood, and yet, it still held that intent depth as he peered ahead for the horizon we were constantly chasing. Not moving for a single beat, not even turning his head in our direction as his voice slowly streamed into my ears.

 "What are you doing, querida. Ok, let's say you manage to get me to some foreign country. You know he'll still find me."

 "Not when you look like a different person", Ava interjected, her face statuesque and firm. A stark contrast to the half-amused, half-amused mesh of expressions strewn on Santiago's face. But once it was clear that she wasn't joking, his next question shifted, carried with a stammering tempo.

 "Wha—wha—wha—do you, uhm, do you mean by ch-ch-changing my appearance?"

 "Hey, don't sweat it, old man. Besides, you get to look like anything you want. A much-needed do-over if you ask me", Kayla teased, only for me to carry the baton and run with mine.

 "You know... I would pay good money to see if he could pull off a Leo DiCaprio. Hey, what do you think, Kay?!"

 "What about a Channing Tanum?" Kayla answered instantly, only for Ava to chip in from nowhere.

 "Or a Michael B Jordan". Yes, that was what we heard. A statement so outlandish, it had me and Kayla retracting necks after listening to it.

 Santiago, however, was yet to move an inch, even as my head dangled right off his shoulder, but as soon as I twisted over to him, a creeping change started to show across his face.

 First, his jaw slackened before his eyes followed --- Glistened from supposed tears.

 Then, it became a guessing game of who delivered the inaugural snort, but the instant that came out, we were all hurled into a communion of giggles. It all started with our fizzing breaths— each one climbing in volume until we all exploded--- charging the air with the chorus of our laughter.

 The act simply had everything. Teary eyes, nasal wheezes, and the occasional gaping smiles the ladies showcased whenever the emotion swayed them about like spring flowers.

 There was even this guy who was hugging the space in front, stalling our progress and subsequently, the moment of glee

 Kayla had tried to radio the signals we used earlier, her tone a little shaky from before--- But all she got was a resounding

 "Fuck you and the police.

 It was an outrageous but typical response, nonetheless. I mean, this was Brooklyn at its core. Mad drivers and coarse exchanges, and the occasional overtaking--- which I knew Kayla would do the instant the road signs for the Tunnel and the BQE began to loom ahead.

 She waited patiently, biding time until he drifted left, and the minute it happened, she swung the bonnet the other way, sideswiping his near side as our vehicle lurched ahead of him.

 To make matters more interesting, once we were directly in front of him, she made sure to ram the engine, leaving behind a wake of ashen fumes spiralling in thick gusts after the tinted glass.

 A parting gift which goaded us into another round of thunderous laughter.

 I'll admit that... that was a little too much, but I didn't mind. Besides, I was too busy snickering aloud, wishing I could freeze this moment forever. At least, maybe until this someone finds a way to pass this without any bloodshed.

 But, of course, it wouldn't. Reality still haunted my thoughts, gnawing at my conscience until the need to continue just felt wrong.

 So, I did. Quietly. Then, it was Ava with a close second, and after a brief interval where it seemed to be just Kayla and Santi tossing whimsical grins at each other, she eventually tapered out. Her giggles waning until it was only Santi giggling quietly to himself.

 The laughter was almost dead now. His chuckles, barely audible once we were halfway across inside the tunnel, a grave silence already filling in the space until a violent crack of a bullet whistled past Santi's corner, shattering the side mirror by the other seat in front.

 The shot tore through the air with such force, I had to duck down, palms slung over my ears, fingers laced loosely as they barely met behind my neck.

 From there on, everything that transpired around me felt like a rush of various sensory currents coursing in at once.

 Their discordant outbursts, the clinking spill of shards, this ache suddenly thrumming inside my skull... Everything just seemed to unfold in a single heartbeat, its rhythm chasing after that inevitable rush of adrenaline and dread surging through my veins.

 Meanwhile, the car had lost its grip on the asphalt, the rear end whipping in a violent arc across the asphalt, holding us glued to our seats. I could already hear Kayla yell "shit" repeatedly. No doubt, she was struggling to control the flailing vehicle.

 A spray of bullets immediately followed suit, bouncing off the unyielding hide of the car while a roar of terror tailed behind us.

 My head remained tucked in. But someone had to scope the scene, and it wasn't going to be the two beside me. So, I slowly lifted my head to witness the fear oozing from both.

 I saw the dread contort Ava's downturned face. Next to her sat Santi, who was curled while the rest of his body stiffened except for his head, which bobbed back and forth, moving vigorously as silent prayers marked his breath.

 The sight of them acting like this lit a fire in me. But there was a problem. The odds weren't even stacked for us, and there was no way I could shoot him without proper visibility. What we needed was to burst out the tunnel and into the main road.

 And we did, but even that held its own set of challenges. For one, when I twisted halfway out of the window to finally face our assailant, my pistol held straight past his rear-view mirror—a cluster of jaywalkers would stray across, obstructing my line of shot.

 If it wasn't that, then it was the few pedestrians who strolled on either side of the pavements, meaning any ricocheted bullet or overturned vehicle could seriously endanger the lives who had no hand in this ugly game we were playing.

 I couldn't risk it.

 "Motherfucker's still there", I dropped back in my seat

 Ava leaned forward, voice low and sharp.

 "Take the shot. Now. You've got the angle".

 I didn't move. My hand hovered near the weapon, the crosshairs in my head were already on the bastard's hood—but there were too many people. Civilians walking too close to the traffic, mothers pushing strollers, and some kid holding a melting cone.

 "No", I said—conviction in my voice. "Too many pedestrians".

 Ava's head whipped in my direction.

 'Cristobal--- I have seen you hit a target with one eye closed, and the other red from pepper spray, I am sure— ", she paused, sucking her breath while she leaned until her face was all I could see. "I am sure you could thread it between moving targets if you wanted to".

 I didn't move. "And if I miss by even an inch, someone drops dead because of me??!! No, Ava. I'm good, but I am not inevitable."

 She glared at me, jaw clenching, her lips splitting apart before they shut immediately. Then, her face whipped ahead, avoiding me completely.

 "You know, Cris. You are goddamn right! And that's why we are gonna beat him", Kayla chanted in her seat before she cut a hard turn between a cement barrier and a stalled delivery truck. Horns blared behind us as tires screamed and rubber kissed pavement. We bounced through the narrow squeeze of a side street, walls pressing in so close they scraped paint off the mirror.

 Santi let out a breathless, "Where the hell are we?"

 "We are veering off Hamilton", Kayla replied, eyes narrowing. "Heading into the stomach". She finished before we made another turn—quicker this time—zigzagging between old dumpsters and twisted rebar fences, her instincts working like sonar.

 Behind us, our chaser tried to follow—but his vehicle couldn't round the corner, hence the screeching of tires as his rear end lurched back in defiance. But the path stretched too thin. We had finally edged him out.

 In the mirror ahead, the reflection of the SUV beside a rusted out truck nearly faded out, and when we plunged further, there was nothing but darkness lurking behind. I smiled next because for the first time since we've been here, no roar chased after us-- no headlights tailed our behind—it was just a calm that followed the abandoned parts we headed for.... And a feeling I hadn't felt since today

 Relief.

 "He is too big", Kayla said, her voice lighter now." That beast wasn't made for mazes."

 I replied, grinning for the first time in forever. "You are a psycho.

 "I am a miracle", Kayla responded.

 One more swerve, and the avenue behind us disappeared. Everything grew quieter. The lights dimmed. The noises faded. I let myself fall back against my seat

 We coasted along the desolate path, dead silence sneaking in--- calming every nerve fired hot and edgy during the whole ordeal.

 The night was surprisingly frigid here. An oddity for a typical summer night. But that was the least of my problems.

 I just soldiered on quietly, only breathing a tiny prayer when Kayla finally merged into the last turn, soft coastal winds swirling through, stinging my nose slightly.

 The car jolted against the craggy lane. Still, we kept mute. A silence, only tainted by the engine's deep hum and the crunch of pebbles beneath--- both faded after the tyres started to roll smoothly again.

 Then, a lean figure suddenly appeared ahead. With it, a flashlight extended out, its beams swinging wildly until it clashed with ours, illuminating the spot with a harsh, white radiance.

 The light was so blinding, I had to blink vigorously just to adjust , but when I did, the mystery in front was no more of a man I knew. An acquainted face. Heck... The only face that was as close to mine. My fucking twin. The last person I could trust with something this delicate

 My fucking twin.

 I slung my door open, one leg dropping before Kayla even killed the switch. I heard her yell, but my other foot was down after I slid out, then bolted straight—arms already spread before we smashed bodies

 Quick "How are yous" passed between us. In them, his name was mentioned... Damian. And mine, but you already knew that.

 We stayed like that for a while before we let go. His eyes drifted beyond me, and then he asked...

 "Who the fuck is she??

 I didn't need a look back to know who he was talking about, but before I could reply, Kayla launched herself at him, arms crossed around his neck, nearly yanking it off.

 Santi stood by until she eventually let go and then stepped aside, her eyes lingering on him, and his on hers, too. Even while he embraced Santi, that one eye never quite left her.

 "You look old." He looked away when he said that, placing his attention solely on the older man as their contact reduced to shoulder pats now.

 "You look like you need a haircut", Santi grinned. The second time I saw him smile like that.

 "Yeah, yeah... And you must be". He held an arm, head bowed in mock reverence towards Ava.

 She ignored it, her torso slightly askew as she peered over his shoulders, eyes looking for me.

 "We need to get your uncle safe. This is no time to get to know "Colleague's siblings".

 "Ooooof!! That hurt my feelings. Gotta respect your professionalism, though". Damian said as his back turned to her until we were brother to brother again.

 I had paced behind him during his whole reacquaintance stage, waiting alongside a rather fidgety Santi. He was probably aware of the anxiety creeping back into the scene, and I couldn't blame him. The job was far from finished. So, when my twin faced me and asked what was next. I unloaded everything

 "You take him to the port". I pointed at Santi, ignoring the surprised look he had, and the expected interjections Damian kept throwing at me.

 "You take him to the port", I repeated, this time a bit louder.

 "Whoa!! Cris.... Nooh!"

 "Yes, you will, Danny. Yes, you will". I hammered on my order, expecting one hell of a response from him, but he kept quiet and just stepped before me, his back hunched close until we shared the breath. Then the reply came.

 "What about you, idiot. The plan was simple..." He paused, his fingers hanging loose and an inch apart, both stabbing down as they moved across my chest — hands acting as if they could punctuate his sentence.

 We. Leave. Together. Now!!

 "I----", I looked everywhere — the freaking warehouse looming behind us, the night sky clear as the stars shone bright, Ava's eyes — which were still on me. In fact, I scanned every detail existing besides him because the hard truth was that I needed to stay. It was my responsibility to stay. And when I manned up to face him.... I saw it.

 A blur dart past the corner of my eye, right behind the two buildings across the street. It looked like a two-legged ghost, an image nearly lost to the shadows if not the flicker of the lamp raised between the front yards.

 "What... What!!!", Damian nudged my left shoulder while Ava and Kayla stepped in from both sides, their brows furrowed as they repeated his question.

 I could even feel Santi's tender calluses rest upon my back, his touch nearly dropping my guard until I heard a faint crackle from afar.... I didn't even blink, but I knew we had been made before the bullet whizzed past my jacket. Then a scream behind me shattered the silence, battering my ears as terror spiked in my chest.

 He had been got...

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