Evenfall (129 page)

Boyd couldn't get away so he stilled suddenly against Archer's grip, his heart thundering as he stared helplessly at Sin's pale, unmoving body. His hands were resting on Archer's arm to push him away but now he dug his fingers into the skin painfully, barely daring to breathe as if somehow the air in his lungs would be transferred to Sin's.

What seemed like several moments passed and as Kassian finished the fifth cycle and started on the sixth, Harriet put a hand on his shoulder. "Kassian, he's dead. Just stop."

Boyd would have turned a cold, furious glare on her if he wasn't completely absorbed in watching Kassian work. He thought in distant, frantic fear that somehow looking away would mean he abandoned Sin again.

"He's too stupid to die," Kassian muttered stubbornly and breathed into his mouth once more, then again, before sitting up and doing a violent set of compressions. "Come on," he growled, almost seeming angry, pressing down on the center of Sin's chest hurriedly. "Come the fuck on, Vega. How am I ever going to win a fight with you if you just fucking die?"

Nothing happened and it really did begin to look hopeless. But Kassian refused to give up, even as his teammates began shooting each other mildly concerned looks about his own state of mind. But then Kassian practically punched Sin in the middle of his chest and--

Suddenly there was a low, hoarse gasp, and Sin began breathing once again.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Boyd whispered shakily, trembling as he slumped against the seat, his hands still holding onto Archer's arm tightly as if it was some sort of anchor. He stayed in a position so he could watch Sin's chest as it rose and fell, a deep sense of paranoia growing within him that each time would be the last.

Before he had a chance to do anything more, white light abruptly flooded around them, throwing stark relief on the inside of the van and making Sin look even sicklier. Everyone's heads snapped up and Kassian looked at Archer immediately; from his view, he couldn't see anything.

Archer looked out the windshield, finally letting Boyd go so he could shade his eyes as he peered into the bright light bathing them from in front of the van. Three trucks blocked their way completely, their headlights set to bright. Dark figures of several men were silhouetted against the light, their shadows long and casting odd blind spots across the ground as they stood there aiming assault rifles at the van.

Boyd whipped around, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sudden light while his heartbeat and adrenaline increased with a violent jolt that shook through his body. He could barely see anything so he squinted, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He knew for a fact Santiago wouldn't have that many people with him at once and they certainly wouldn't
use their brights. They were the type to use flashlights and big words, sauntering up to the side of the vehicle before they bothered saying anything at all.

"We have company," Archer informed them calmly as he slid one hand to his waist to clear his gun from the holster. "Armed, M4s. Ten men, three trucks, the others are filled but the front is empty aside from two men. Probably thirty men in all."

Kassian stared at him incredulously before his gaze snapped over to Boyd. "I thought you said this tunnel belonged to some pushover?" he demanded, voice no longer holding the calm, controlled quality that it had earlier. The situation finally appeared to be affecting him as much as it did Boyd. In the bright lights of the truck, his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles under them became visible for the first time that night. The man looked as exhausted as Boyd.

"That's not--" Boyd started to say but he was finally able to make out the side of the truck. '4FF' was painted in bright yellow letters along the doors and he felt his heart nearly stop.
"Fuck!"
he yelled viciously and without stopping to explain anything he suddenly threw himself out of the van, holding his hands up as he peered through the light at the front truck.

The men aimed their guns at him immediately, appearing to be on the verge of shooting when a man's voice called out casually in Spanish,
"Stop."

There was a long pause as the men continued to aim their rifles at Boyd and he continued to stand there awkwardly with his hands in the air. After a moment, the passenger side of the truck was kicked open and a tall, muscular figure jumped out. The man turned towards Boyd and sauntered over to him casually, thumbs hooked into the loops of his pants as he went. There was no doubt in Boyd's mind as to who he was; the almost cocky stride gave it away entirely.

Lo mαs chingσn's
figure appeared more clearly as he came closer although he was still mostly shadowed by the lights of the truck. He wore a wide brimmed hat pulled down so low that it completely hid his eyes and a black and gold scarf which was pulled over the lower half of his face. It was looped over his ears and hanging down the front of his shirt, making him look like some kind of Wild West Mexican bandit straight out of old movies.

It seemed that Jorge had been right when he'd said the man was paranoid about showing his identity if he was wearing that getup in the heat.

He wore a loose, white shirt rolled up to his elbows which showed a strange tattoo that entirely encased one forearm although the shadows and darkness made it impossible to see exactly what it was. His fingers were adorned with chunky rings of silver and turquoise and his scuffed combat boots came all the way up to his knees, encasing his faded leather clad legs. A gun sat on either side of his hips in a low hanging ammunition belt and a large hunting knife could be seen strapped to one leg although Boyd knew for a fact that he carried several more somewhere on his person.

He didn't stop walking until he was standing directly in front of Boyd.

Boyd stayed still, keeping his hands held up harmlessly as he peered at him although he couldn't see his expression at all. Between the man being silhouetted and the bright lights, it was too hard to focus on him. His heart was pounding from adrenaline and stress but he didn't say or do anything, opting instead to wait for
Chingσn
to make the first move. It was just his fucking luck that of all the people to take over Santiago's passage and happen to be using it while they were trying to flee the city with Sin in critical condition, it had to be
Chingσn
who appeared.

Chingσn
was completely silent as he stared at Boyd for several long moments but then his arm suddenly shot out, fingers gripping his chin as he turned Boyd's face from side to side.

"
Aww
,
quι lindo
," he cooed in Spanish. "
What happened to all of your pretty red hair
?" He clucked his tongue as if he were trying to get the attention of a stubborn pet and continued to examine Boyd.

"I was tired of it,"
Boyd answered in Spanish, letting
Chin
gσn
move him however he wanted.

The man made a disapproving sound. "
Too bad
," he said mildly. "
You actually had some style before.
" His grip tightened painfully and Boyd could practically feel the glare radiating from under the brim of his hat. "Now tell me what the fuck you're doing in my tunnel. And don't answer in Spanish. Your accent is one of the worst I've heard in
a while
,
blanquito.
"

"I didn't know it was your tunnel," Boyd said calmly despite the tension increasing at the glare. He didn't want this to end terribly; they desperately needed to get out of there, Sin didn't have time for him to fuck this up by angering
Chingσn
before they could even leave Monterrey. His expression and body language stayed carefully blank and without any sense of challenge. "It was Santiago's a month ago."

If it weren't for the scarf covering his face, Boyd would have been sure that
Chingσn's
mouth had curled into a roguish smile as he responded in a low purr, "A lot changes in a month,
chico
. I made Santiago the nonfactor that he always was."

"I can see that," Boyd said and though there was nothing disrespectful or demanding in his tone, it was clear he felt a sense of urgency. "I'm sorry we inadvertently entered your territory but we have an injured colleague and he needs immediate medical assistance. We were on our way to save him."

There was another long pause and
Chingσn
released his chin, looking up and surveying the surrounding area as though he were waiting for someone else to appear. When he didn't find whatever he was looking for, he shouted something back at his men in Spanish and the closest one tossed him a flashlight.
Chingσn
caught it without even looking back and studied Boyd for another stretch before shifting and walking past him, shoulder brushing against him almost rudely.

"Well, what do we have here?" he asked mildly, speaking loud enough for everyone in the van to hear him. "A van full of unemployed artists in SWAT gear perhaps? Or is this a kinky
maricon
costume party?" He stopped in front of the open van door and shone the flashlight in Archer's face. "Hi."

Archer's eyes narrowed and he kept his hand near his gun, though he didn't bother answering.

"Goodness,"
Chingσn
drawled in mock concern. "Your friends are mighty aggressive,
chico
. Perhaps you should teach them some manners before I begin to feel offended."
He tsked at Archer, appearing highly amused by the entire situation, and shone the flashlight toward Harriet and Kassian, who could be seen peering through the space between the front seats.
The beam of light stayed on Kassian's unflinching face for a long moment before finally sliding away to hover on Harriet. "Mmmm. Who knew there would be such an attractive woman with this group of
gringos
," he said in an almost scandalized tone. "You should come be in my gang. I'll even give you a nickname. How do you feel about
La Chingada
?"

Harriet made a face at him. "I know enough Spanish to tell you quite confidently that I'll never be fucked by you, buddy."

Chingσn
laughed, seeming genuinely amused, and tilted his head to the side. "I love a woman with spirit. What fun are they if they don't put up a fight?" He gazed at her for another long moment before shifting the flashlight to whatever he could view of the vehicle from the angle he stood at. "Now why do I think I'm not seeing everyone?"

Boyd tensed, watching
Chingσn
closely as he approached the side door. "I already told you we have an injured colleague," he said calmly, taking a step closer to him.

The man didn't respond and reached for the handle, sliding the door open so that Blair, Michael and Sin's prone body were all in full view.

Chingσn
barely had a chance to see inside before Boyd suddenly slid between him and the open door, his back straight and gaze intense. There was something almost protective about the way he stood there between Sin and
Chingσn
and even though he didn't seem to be challenging him, there was a warning in his eyes.

The taller man stared at him silently for a long moment. "Move."

Boyd didn't say anything but it was clear he had absolutely no intention of following the order.

There was another tense stretch of silence but this one was broken by a handgun suddenly appearing in
Chingσn
's hand a portion of a second before he pressed it between Boyd's eyes. "I said move." The humor was completely gone from his voice and for the first time he sounded completely serious. A deadly threat was evident in his tone.

"I heard you the first time." Boyd didn't even flinch although his eyes did narrow. There was no fear in his face; only determination.

"Hmm."
Chingσn
tilted his head to the side, letting the muzzle of the gun slide against Boyd's face like a caress. "How very brave," he drawled softly. "Are you brave enough to die protecting your... colleague?" The way the word rolled off his tongue clearly implied that he knew Sin was more than just that.

"Pull the trigger and find out," Boyd said unflinchingly.

The man made a sound in the back of his throat that seemed like a mixture of amusement and disgust. "How sweet," he said, tone heavy with sarcasm. "But unfortunately your gesture would be highly unnecessary as I do not consider myself to be a scavenger." He pressed the gun against Boyd's face harder. "I don't attack the weak or the dying. Now move out of the way or I really will blow your fucking brains out since you are obviously neither."

Boyd hesitated, giving
Chingσn
a strange look at the comment. Even though he would never say he could trust this man, he did still stand by his initial impression that he could probably take him at his word. Considering the fact that he'd had multiple times to kill Boyd and he hadn't, he didn't believe
Chingσn
would actually shoot Sin. It was, more than anything, his need to protect Sin from anyone else who could potentially hurt him. It was the fact that since they'd found Sin, Boyd had been held away, able only to watch, incapable of doing anything to help. After a moment, he stepped to the side enough for
Chingσn
to get past him.

The man shone the flashlight into the van just enough to illuminate Blair's alarmed, deer caught in the headlights stare and Michael's blank look of confusion and surprise. However the beam didn't stay on them for long before finally dropping to Sin.
Chingσn
kept the light trained on his pale, slack face for a moment before sliding it along the entire length of his body. He seemed to focus on every major wound, on each of his broken limbs before finally returning it to his face.

The moment stretched for quite awhile until Kassian shifted in the van and stared at
Chingσn
with narrowed eyes. "I think we're done here," he said to the man flatly, obviously more than tired of the games.

Chingσn
didn't respond, didn't even seem to register that Kassian had spoken, but he finally turned away from Sin and focused on Boyd once again. "You should take better care of your toys,
chico,
" he said mildly.

"He's not my toy," Boyd said, watching him with an unwavering gaze.

Chingσn
watched him for a moment without replying before he gave a languid, one shouldered shrug. "Whatever you say." Although Boyd couldn't see the man's eyes, he had no doubt that they were staring intently into his own. For awhile it didn't seem entirely obvious what would happen, what the man would do, but then he tucked his gun away and hooked his thumbs in the loops of his belt again. "One more strike and you're out.
Comprende
?"

Boyd nodded. "I won't get in your way again."

The man nodded, shrugged again, and began to stroll casually away.

There had been any number of sarcastic comments that had come to mind during the course of the conversation, but Boyd had stopped himself so that he wouldn't offend him. But he couldn't help it this time; it was probably a combination of his frayed nerves, his tiredness, and the relief that the man was going and that they'd be able to get Sin out.

"Sorry for interrupting your clandestine overnight bread delivery. Hopefully it won't ruin too many breakfasts," he said suddenly.

Chingσn
paused mid-stride and turned towards Boyd in a manner that was obviously incredulous. He stared at him for a long moment before reaching out to almost casually shove Boyd into the side of the van. "You're an idiot." His tone was a mixture of amusement and something not as identifiable.

He shook his head and strode towards his truck, gesturing at his men vaguely although they seemed to understand since they immediately lowered their weapons.
Chingσn
yanked the passenger side door open again and slammed it behind him, leaning out the window and pounding his hand against the side of the truck. "
Vαmo
nos muchachos!
"