Borgata - Book II #wattys2016

Chapter 16: Massacre

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"I'd break all my limbs for Fico," @chrisrocks247  said, when asked what to put at the beginning of this chapter.

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I was shaking so hard that I could feel it in my bones.

"Everything's going to be fine," I said, mostly to myself. Fico was more alert than I'd seen him yet, staring at Gasparro's body and breathing hard through his nostrils like an angry bull.

I had to free him.

"I fücking shot him," I muttered to myself as I reached Fico's chair. My heart was thrashing in my chest, and all I could see in front of my eyes was a replay of me shooting Gasparro over and over again.

"I shot him. What was I supposed to do? I had no other choice." Tears momentarily blurring my vision and a sharp pain burst in broken hand, and there were black splotches in front of my eyes for a moment. I couldn't black out. I couldn't black out. I fought through the pain, but maybe I wasn't really as tough as I felt.

" What was I supposed to do, Fico? Stay in that chair and shit myself until he killed the both of us? I had to do it... Everything's...going to be fine, Fico. It's going to be fine... I shot him."

Tears flooded my vision as I aimed the gun at a massive knot around Fico's hands, but I didn't trust the tremble in my wrist. I set the gun down in his lap and pulled at the knots around his hands.

"Vhm," Fico managed to get out. By the way the chords in his throat were emphasized and his shoulders were tensed up, I could tell he was in a tremendous amount of pain. Bile rose upwards from my gut as I took in the raw acid burns on Fico's eye, but I held my own and put on a good face for him. He rolled his head back a little so he could catch my gaze. The pupil of his good eye nearly took up the width of his entire iris, making him look demonic.

"Vhm." Now Fico was wriggling in his seat, veins in his face accentuating and his biceps flexing.

"It's fine...everything is fine." My fingers were sweaty and slipped over the knots. "I'm trying to go as fast as I can, ok? Everything is ok. We're going to be...ok..."

"Vhm." Fico managed to croak out again, moving his head to keep my attention. I couldn't focus on anything else but the flashes of images in front of my vision. Images of my father. Images of myself shooting him and me panicking, washing blood off my hands in the kitchen sink. So much blood...

"Vhm..." Fico lifted and twisted his foot from its knots, enough to impatiently stomp on the ground. "Vhm!"

"Fück, I'm trying!" I tried to undo the tight knot around his bandana. He was breathing harder, squirming more and making noises. "I need your help, Fico. I know you're fücked up, but I'm going to need you to help me get out of here. I can't do this. I don't think...I don't think..."

I worked the knot open and pulled the bandanna away from his bloody mouth–

"Behind you!" Fico rasped out.

I whirled around and swung my gun out in the process, nailing Gasparro, who'd been right behind me, right on the side of the head. When I hit him, he didn't go down right away and swung at me with a fire in his eyes, a hard fist smashing into my fragile cheek. I tried to dodge his next punch but he nailed me again, this time in the stomach. The breath went right out of me, and I tasted blood in my mouth. I hit the floor hard, the gun flying out of my hand. I somehow managed to roll out of the way before he could crack my head open with his shoe like a nutcracker, but struggled to get back up onto my feet.