Jake knelt across from him. The big man turned to Donovan.
'He's dead,' Jake said.
There was a crackle of energy. Far up, thousands of feet, a tear in the darkness shot a bolt of pure energy to the earth. It struck with surgical precision, driving Salvatore and Jake back and slamming into Snake's body with the force of a lightning strike. The air filled with the scent of ozone, and the light blinded them all — just for a second. Then it was gone.
Donovan opened his eyes. The park was just a park again. Snake lay very still across the tattered remnant of what now appeared to be no more than an old sheet. Salvatore lay to one side, and Jake was getting groggily to his feet. Amethyst sat in the dirt shaking her head, and in between them all, a young woman's body lay crumpled and silent.
Donovan stepped forward and knelt. He placed a hand on her throat. She was alive.
Far in the distance a siren rose.
All around them, men stood. They brushed branches, leaves, and dirt from hands, faces, and clothing. Los Escorpiones and Dragons alike seemed confused, lost and without purpose.
'You have to get them out of here,' Donovan said, turning to Jake. 'Get your people back to the clubhouse. I'll help with Snake.'
Jake stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. Then the big man glanced around, took in the chaos, and nodded. He stared at one of Los Escorpiones, standing only a few feet away. The man met his gaze, but there was no animosity in that stare. Jake nodded once, and they turned their separate ways.
Jake gathered several of the Dragons nearest him and spoke to them in low tones. They spread out through the park, and in only moments, motors fired up and down the road. Headlights sliced the park, and the crossing beams of those brilliant lights, Salvatore, Jake, and Donovan lifted Snake on what had once been his flag, and carried the Dragon president's body from the park.
Amethyst had managed to revive the girl, and helped her along in their wake. They passed through the parked bikes and crossed the street, disappearing into a darkened alley. Santini Park stood dark and silent. Only Snake and Jake's bikes remained, tilted on their kickstands and watching, like silent sentinels. More sirens rose, but the park was bare. The moon shone bright and clear.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Before they'd gone more than a block, Martinez stepped out of the shadows and fell in beside the make-shift stretcher. He reached out a hand, as if to touch Snake, or to check for life, and then pulled the hand back.
'It's over,' Donovan said.
The old man turned, met Donovan's gaze, and then shook his head. He turned, spotted Salvatore, and went to the boy's side. Donovan saw him lean in close and whisper something, but he got no response. Martinez laid his hand on the young artist's shoulder and shook him gently, but again there was no reaction.
Salvatore's hair stuck out at crazed angles from his pale face. He still gripped the makeshift club that had once been a flagpole. Martinez tried to pry it gently from his hand as they walked, but Salvatore wasn't letting go, and again, the old man let it slide.
'We have to move fast,' Jake said. 'Those sirens are getting closer, and we have a ways to go. If they catch us before we get to the clubhouse, this is going to be hard to explain.'
'They will not see us,' Martinez said.
'I wish I shared your confidence,' Jake said.
'I have taken care of it. They will not see us.'
Jake stared at Martinez for a moment, and then nodded. He turned back and led the others through the darkened streets.
Donovan turned and glanced at where Amethyst supported the girl on her arm. He wanted to go to her, to talk to her and offer his help, but that would have to wait, at least until they got back to the clubhouse. He glanced up at the moon far above. He thought he saw a shadow pass before his eyes, far above, and his heart chilled. He flashed on Martinez shaking his head. If it wasn't over…
They turned the last corner and saw the lights of the clubhouse ahead. The bikes that had lined the park now covered the street, and the clubhouse yard. The fire in the back yard had been built up again, and light streamed from every window of the building. They hurried their steps. When they got within a couple of blocks, a contingent of quiet, silent Dragons took the makeshift stretcher from their hands gently and moved on ahead. Jake joined them, softly giving directions that Donovan noted were followed without question.
Relieved of his burden, Donovan hurried to Amethyst's side.
'How is she?' he asked.
'She'll live,' Amethyst said. 'Salvatore gave her a good shot to the head, and she's confused. She hasn't been in control of her body for hours. Also, one thing we failed to consider when we brought her along with us… she's one of the Escorpiones ' women. The more her memory comes back to her, the more she's scared out of her mind. I've told her we'll watch out for her, but I think we need to get her away from here.
'Give me a few minutes,' Donovan said, 'And we'll go. We can drop her at the hospital and tell them where to find her people. I need to see what Martinez is up to.'
'What do you mean?' Amethyst asked.
Just then, the shadow crossed the moon again. This time it seemed a bit lower, and a bit darker. They both glanced up. There was nothing in sight, but something hung in the air, something dark and angry. Something powerful and hungry.
'I think,' Donovan said, 'you have your answer.'
He spun, and ran for the entrance to the clubhouse. He slipped in past the groups of Dragons, their heads hung and their voices low. They'd won a battle that night, but they'd lost their President, and they'd lost brothers, and for most of them, there were more questions than answers. They didn't prevent Donovan from passing, but he caught more than a few confused glances.
There were candles on every horizontal surface. Donovan wound his way into the crowd and searched until he spotted the gray of Martinez's hair in the kitchen. He pushed through and found Salvatore seated at the table, staring at his hands. Martinez stood over him. The old man had a far-away expression. He seemed on the verge of saying something, and at the same time uncertain what it should be.
'Martinez,' Donovan said, grabbing the old man's arm. 'What have you done? They aren't gone. The dragons.'
'They are not here either, my friend. They are… between.'
Donovan started to ask what that meant, and then he caught sight of Salvatore. The boy sat at the table, but there was little indication of whether or not he was aware of his surroundings. He seemed lost in some other place. Tears had streaked his cheeks and his eyes had dark bags beneath them, as though he'd been drained of energy…or hope.
'The painting,' Donovan said softly.
'Yes,' Martinez said. 'It was the painting. It opened a portal — connected worlds. Now that painting is gone, but the portal…it never closed.'
'No,' Donovan said. 'I understood that. The paint — the Rojo Fuego — is there more?'
Martinez blinked.
'Yes, a little. I don't know how much. There are other colors, as well. They aren't as powerful…'
'We need the red,' Donovan said.
He dropped to one knee before Salvatore.
'Sal, can you hear me?' he asked.
The boy glanced up slowly. His eyes were glazed, but he nodded. He was aware.
'You have to paint,' Donovan said. 'You have to close the portal. The only one who can do it is you — you see the dragons. They are in your heart — your soul. You are the one who brought Snake and his dragon together. Now Snake is gone…you have to take his dragon home.'
A light flickered in Salvatore's eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched.
