Something new was happening.
Mos watched, dispassionately, as a man burst into the room, wielding a gun. Like a scientific anthropologist, Mos made a careful note on a clipboard.
Someone is here. He seems different than the others.
From across the divide came an explosion. The stars of Nos put down their swords, turned their heads toward the sound.
Another explosion. Instead of being blown back, Mos was pulled in, through the stars, back to Geno. He crashed into his body and was immediately sucked into an airless vacuum of agony. Pain ripped his young bones apart while an impossible, immeasurable weight fell on his back.
He’s on my back, he’s on me and in me, on my back, get him off me, get him out of me…
Deadweight smashed him into the earth, crushing his ribs around his heart and lungs. Sending a dirty spike of pain through his backside and up his spine.
Get out get out get out get out get out.
His body and brain screamed for air as the room beyond filled with a crackling, shouting energy.
“Goddamn son of a bitch,” someone cried.
Another voice, one that made Geno’s ears prick up, yelled, “Jesus fucking Christ…”
The weight lifted. It took a moment for Geno’s lungs to realize it. Mos blinked, imaginary pencil poised, waiting with detached concern while Geno lifted his head between his outstretched forearms, sucking wind.
“I got you,” a man said, down on his knees at Geno’s side. “Geno. Look at me.”
It was Captain Hook.
“It’s over,” he said. His hands cradled Geno’s face. “I got you. We’re getting you out of here, okay? Look at me. We’ll get these things off you and get you out of here, I promise. Look at me. I won’t let you go.”
Geno’s body bucked and heaved. Hook held his head as the past forty-four hours came up and over and onto the floor.
“That’s it,” Hook said. “Let it go. Let it out. It’s all right.” He let go long enough to pull off his jacket and drape it over Geno’s body, covering what he could. “We’ll get you out of here. Hang on, buddy. I won’t leave.” He turned his head and his voice raised into authority. “Bukowski, ETA on the ambulance?”
“Chief, we need you in here,” someone yelled from the other side of the wall.
“Where’s EMS?” Hook called back.
“Just turned down Lantern.”
“Bukowski, I want a cuff key or a bolt cutter in here now.”
Many things are happening, Mos thought.
“Chief, they need you,” another voice said, closer. “He’s in the bathroom.”
“Get those fucking things off,” Hook said, rocking back on his heels. A rattle and a crunch and Geno’s hands dropped down from the head rail, his shoulders howling in relief.
“Easy, bud,” Hook said. “EMS is here now, they’re going to take care of you. I’ll be right back.”
The paramedics gently rolled Geno onto his side. He cried and cried. A silent weep. Air moved through his throat but no sound emerged. His voice was gone.
Mos turned his head and retreated far into Nos, not watching or listening anymore. The world went deaf, dumb and blind for a long time, finally morphing back into shape as Geno was carefully moved onto a gurney. Captain Hook held his hand as he was wheeled out, then climbed into the ambulance with him.
“Dad,” Geno said, but no sound came out. His mouth must have made a recognizable shape because Hook put a rough palm on his head.
“We’ll get him,” Hook said. “He’s in the air right now but we’re getting in touch with his office, they’ll send someone to the airport to bring him straight to the hospital. I promise. He’ll be with you real soon.”
Geno’s mouth shaped another silent name.
He’s dead to us, Mos said sternly.
A ripple of something crossed the captain’s face. “Shh. Lie still and rest now. It’s all over. We’re doing everything we can.”
We are leaving now, Mos thought, as the ambulance pulled forward, making the gurney vibrate.
This is good.
Mos held his clipboard tight and went along with Geno. It was his job now.
Someone has to be in charge. I am Mos, rhymes with dos, and I’m in command here. I have the strength of two now. I’m the one with the common sense in this family.
Things happen to Geno.
I only watch.
He felt nothing but conviction he was right. This was how it had to be. He knew no other way to survive what couldn’t be understood, other than to have it happen to someone else.