***

CHAPTER 24

Alejandro Baldonado Carabello Lynch

***

"I did something useful," Lynch said.

"Yes, you did, you moron," Blake replied from the floor.

Amber's smile rivalled the sun, and the boy could not contain his own grin. His chest puffed, and his legs itched to move. He had never been looked at with such admiration before. Him. Lynch. Was he an adult now? He could finally stand equal amongst his friends. He could be one of them. He could help. He could... he could...

He could feel something wet run down his neck.

Slowly, his smile left. He reached for the back of his head and met something warm and fleshy. What's that? He thought. That was not normal. That was not supposed to be there. Unless...

Unless his new shampoo was a sham.

He brought his hand back and blinked at how dark the red was.

Enrique, he thought. Enrique no doubt put red dye in his shampoo again. Ha! Like anyone would want to look like Cal.

But then he started to notice it. How that warm feeling ran down his suit. How light he felt. How bright it was. His insides turned.

But the worst of all was Blake's expression.

No, no, no. He was not smiling anymore. This was not how it was supposed to be. He did not mean to disappoint him again. When would he stop being a burden? When would he repay his debt?

"I... I wasn't expecting that," he tried apologising.

He moved to walk over and explain himself, but his body opposed, and he crumpled to the floor. Useless. Useless. Blake was already running. No, no, no. Please. No. He shut his eyes like it could make everything go away but felt his friend's arms wrap around him, heard their painful cry. Why are you so useless? Someone else screamed his name as well, and when he looked up, Amber's blurry figure rushed over.

"Stay awake! Lynch, look at me! You're going to be okay. We'll get you out. Just stay awake, you hear me?"

"I'm okay, Amber," he said. "Please stop overreacting. I'm okay. It's not so serious. It's all going to be alright. Stop worrying."

"Por favor... Santa María," Blake sobbed into him. "Madre de Dios... Por favor..."

The boy reached for his friend's face and touched his cheek.

"Estoy bien," he said, hoping he was heard.

Even Cal ran over and crouched beside him.

"Hey, Cal. Am I a ginger now too?"

"There's a lot of blood," his first kin said.

"We need to get him to the hospital!" Amber insisted.

"Sí... Sí...Yes," Blake muttered, finally gathering himself. "You go help carry Enrique and tell Jack to call the hospital. We need their best doctor sent to the Bowmen estate."

"We have our own docto—"

"That fucking piece of shit Dominic left with most of my men. I can't trust that Bernice didn't go with him!"

Blake scooped Lynch up like a doll and headed for the exit.

"Oh, no... Please, no... There's so much blood dripping from his head..." Amber cried. She reached down and ripped a piece from that beautiful golden dress.

"No, Amber," Lynch slurred, head swaying. "It's too pretty."

She pressed the material to his wound and followed as everyone ran. Unable to fight with the boy in his arms, Blake could only slow down when attackers blocked their way. Amber bolted ahead, grabbing a fallen pistol and shooting most of the men in their legs. Click. She swore and discarded her gun.

Just then, the East caught up. Their cyng was supported by their driver, his face bloodied. The twins and the one with silky blond hair rushed to help Amber, and they finished the Northerners off too fast for Lynch to see what they did.

Out of the ballroom, they sprinted for the front door. Just as the East made it out, Northerners stormed in from all sides and closed the door, their means of escape. One of the thugs turned to the pad on the wall, typing something in. A loud click sounded through the mansion, and every door and window was framed by a red glow.

"No!" Amber charged at them, on her own this time, and was already overwhelmed. When she grabbed for the door, it stayed shut.

Outside, the East stopped and turned to see what happened, Owen still clinging to his driver. The blond guy, their first kin, rushed to the door and banged on it, but it was no use. He kicked, stomped, and slammed to no avail.

Lynch craned his neck back to look for help. Cal and Jessy were carrying Enrique, fending off attackers from the back. Blake was holding him. Amber was the only one that could fight.

A pale figure rushed past.

"Step aside, you imbéciles!" Jack barked at the Northerners. The frigid tone made them hesitate for a second. Enough for Amber to get the jump on them again and start brawling while Jack typed furiously on the pad.

Taking down two of them, a third knocked the girl square in the jaw, and Lynch felt himself nearly getting dropped. Amber fell back, right into Jack. Pushed, the hacker hit his head with a loud shatter. When he looked up, his brow was bleeding, and a web of cracks was spread across the pad.

"Shit!" he said, typing, slamming, and then smashing.

He wiped the blood from his eyes and shared a look with Amber. She paused from her fight, out of breath, and turned to the East outside. Owen had a deep scowl as he said something to his driver. The group nodded and left.

Amber swore and glared at the remaining Northerners with the promise of pain in her eyes. She was feral, attacking without any control. Losing. Jack pulled a gun and pointed it at the men.

"Stop!" he ordered, and they did just that, stepping back.

It was a standoff, but even if the men were not attacking anymore, who knew where Xavier was or when reinforcements would arrive?

A bright light reached across the floor, gripping everyone in the foyer and grew nearer by the second. When they turned to the door, headlights barrelled towards them.

"Out the way!" Jack warned.

The space cleared in a second, but Amber spun back, strands of hair glowing in the light as she reached for two unconscious thugs.

"Amber, move!" Jack yelled, leaping towards her.

He pulled her away, and the men got dragged with; the four of them pressed against the wall. Blake turned and hunkered with Lynch still in his arms, his jacket covering the boy.

A thunderous crash shattered, shook the house. Glass burst, wood splintered, and debris rattled the floorboards. Blake stood again, coughing as everyone else did, and kept Lynch covered.

Car doors clicked. Glass crunched.

"The injured first!" Amber said.

Nobody spoke against her, and Lynch felt Blake moving, felt them getting into the car and stayed in his friend's lap. The jacket dropped, and he looked up to see everyone else climbing in the eight-seater. Just before Cal and Enrique could get in, more Northerners poured onto the scene.

"There's no end to them!" Amber said.

She aimed to go help, but Owen reached from where he sat, and grabbed her around her waist. He pulled her inside before slamming the door shut. They reversed their way out, glass and debris clattering off the car. All the while, Cal still tried to fend off thugs while keeping Enrique supported.

"No! Enrique is still inside!' Jessy cried.

"We can't leave them!" Amber yelled at Owen, slamming fists into his chest. Jessy dived for the door handle, but the twins restrained her before she could get out.

And Blake... Blake only held on tighter to Lynch, turning his head away from the scene. His whole body shook.

All for my sake, Lynch thought. Useless, useless, useless.

"Fuck this," someone said, and a door clicked.

Everyone turned to where the East's first kin jumped out of the car. The blond ran back to the mansion, his cyng cursing.

"Get back!" Owen shouted. "That's an order, Matt!"

Disobeying, the guy jumped at the Northerners, fighting them so fiercely that they had no choice but to forget about Cal and Enrique. He held them off long enough for the two to get to the car. Jessy shook the twins off and pulled Enrique in, Cal too, but...

"That dumbass!" Owen swore.

It did not take long for the blond to get overwhelmed and pinned down. Some Northerners turned and ran towards the car.

"Go," Owen ordered his driver, his voice shaky.

"But..."

"GO!"

"Matt's captured! We can't leave yet!" Amber yelled. "Stop the car! We have to save everyone!"

"He made his choice," Owen said with gritted teeth.

"We can't sacrifice him!"

"Fine, then we sacrifice those here who need doctors!" Owen spun to Amber. "I don't care for Western rats, so make the call."

Amber's lip quivered. She looked back at the blond, her hand reaching for the handle. Then dropped. She turned away with trembling fists.

Lynch's body convulsed, something thick rising in his throat. Blake had him turn to his side, and the boy vomited on the floor, racking with sobs and sick.

He blinked and was on his back again, looking up at Blake. Tall shadowy trees zipped past the window. A helicopter swept by.

He blinked again, and Amber was leaning over him, forcibly opening his eyes. Oceans spilled down her cheeks.

He blinked a third time and someone's phone shined in his eyes. Blinded, he tried to squirm away, and when he could see again, Amber was snapping her fingers in his face.

She said something, but he could not quite catch it.

Was she scolding him? Was everyone mad?

"I'm sorry, Amber," he croaked out, a sour sting in his mouth. "You deserved a better date."

"Don't say that. I'm not... I'm... You don't..."

Their conversation a while back came to mind, and Lynch reached to wipe a tear from under her eye.

"Even if you change, it won't matter. You already changed so much from the first day we met, taller for one, but you're still gold."

"Don't you dare start giving me last words here, Lynch. I swear I'll resurrect you and then kill you myself!"

The boy let out a strained chuckle.

His eyes closed only for a moment again. When they opened, Blake was yelling at people outside to let them through. A familiar white mansion pulled into view.

"That was quick," Lynch commented.

Faces faded, fused together, and his insides flipped again. He closed his eyes and tried focusing on the voices.

Car doors opened. Slammed. Gravel crunched.

"Uncle Anton!"

"How long was the kiddo unconscious?"

"He was in and out the whole ride."

"Father! You have to help Enrique!"

"Calm down. I'll have someone keep him from bleeding out. The kiddo here's head injury is of more concern right now."

"Don't let them die, please."

Footsteps rushed. A door burst open. Voices echoed off walls.

"Make room! Clear the place!"

"Here, hoist him on the bed."

A creak.

"Lynch, don't sleep. Don't go to sleep."

"I need a light here."

"Yes, Uncle."

There was a sharp prick poking at the back of his head. He tried opening his eyes again but got blinded and shut them tighter than before. Heart beating wildly, he reached around until his grip met with a steely bracelet. The boy grabbed Blake's hand and smiled. It trembled. Trembled like that day he became cyng.

"I'm not saying he deserved to die. But you will forever deserve to live," Lynch said. Those were the words he could never tell his cyng, but for three years, wished he could tell his friend.

Not once since being taken in was he able to pay off his debt. These words were all he had left to give.

"The good news is he wasn't shot," the doctor's voice came. "But there are dozens of glass shards in his scalp, some cutting dangerously deep. He'll bleed out if they aren't taken out. He needs stitches. We'll have to shave his head."

The boy instantly regained consciousness.

"NO, NO, NO! NOT THE HAIR!"

The buzz of a razor appeared, and he started kicking.

"Hold, still, Lynch!"

"NO! NOOO! Get Away! Let me die! Let me die! Get away!"

"We'll need morphine for this."

"Stop! STOP!" He flailed around, eyes wide, searching.

The doctor took a step back, needle in hand. His friends stood all around, bloodied and tired. Enrique was in the cot next to him. Amber held Jessy. Blake still stood close, and the boy grabbed his arm with both hands this time. He tried pulling himself up but got pushed back down.

"Please, Blake," he begged. "Please don't let them do this."

"I can't give him the injection if he doesn't stop moving."

Cal and Amber came to help hold him down, but it was no use. He was fighting and resisting with all he was worth.

"Hold still!" Blake ordered.

Lynch twisted to Amber, grabbing her arm next.

"Please, Amber, please don't let him cut my hair. Don't let me lose my hair! Please! My mom won't... My mom, please!"

"Stop struggling. You're losing more blood."

"Let me die! I don't want to be bald like Enrique!"

"I'm not bald," Enrique grumbled from where he lay, coughing.

"Lynch, please, just stop," Blake cried, trying to trap his arms. "You're so stupid! Just listen to me! You never listen! You should've stayed away! None of this would've happened if you just stayed away!"

A pain stabbed the boy's chest.

Was it even worth holding on? Would it not be better if he stayed away? Permanently. What use was he? Why were the people around him always in pain? He could do nothing for his father before the end. Nothing for his mom when she struggled to cope. And Blake, who lost his world, his sun...

The boy might as well just—

"Thank you, Lynch. Thank you for saving my life. Who knows what would've happened if you weren't there tonight?"

As if heaven called, Lynch looked up. Draped in a bright light, Amber was an angel. He would have gladly let her take him away.

Tears pooled in his eyes, but he refused to let a single one drop. He smiled like it would be his last. Lips quivered. For the first time in his life, he was thanked. He was treated like he made a difference. And everything, everything, was worth it.

"A life knowing you, Amber," he said, "is a life well lived."

He felt at peace to let go.

"Then do that!" she said, her fear turning into unwavering command. "Live! If not for yourself, then for me! Live well!"

The boy stared at his angel, his limbs unable to struggle. How could he express the effect of her words? He would die for her. And at that moment, he would live for her.

He was pinned down, and the doctor managed to inject him with the needle. Live. He needed to live. And as a sluggish sleep took him, Lynch heard the devil's taunting words.

There are things much worse than death... 

***