The old man nodded at Harvester and then Harvester reached behind a small counter that was littered with metal tools of some kind and brought out a machete covered in what looked like blood.
Oh, great, they don’t even clean their tools, was all that went through Darwin’s mind. The familiar stirrings of violence that accompanied the sight of a blade built inside him.
He backed up.
“You will bleed from as many places on your body as we can open. Then I will have you chained up, upside down, your legs spread wide. Two of my men will use a saw to cut you open from the groin down, until the blade hits your heart. In that position, blood rushes to the brain, keeping you alive through most of the cutting. Quite the experience, really.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the old man picking the guns up. He was defenseless. This mobster had disarmed him, and now they were the ones in power.
All he had was his wits.
At least he did his best for Rosina.
Harvester was really grinning now. He stepped closer, swinging the blade in his hand.
“I love sawing men in half. Only got to do it a couple of times. You’re going to be so much fun.”
To defend himself the best way he knew, with no weapon of any sort, Darwin reached down and slipped out of his brand new jacket and held it to the side. It wasn’t too thick, but it was better than nothing.
“What’s this?” Harvester asked.
“You wanna cut me? Here I am.”
The old man stepped toward the door. “Cut him up, cut him bad. But Harvester, don’t kill him.” And then he stepped out of the room.
Darwin wrapped the jacket around his left forearm. Harvester was four feet away and stepping closer.
“You really are a piece of work. Rarely do I get to meet someone so interesting,” Harvester said.
Darwin didn’t respond.
This was it. He’d held himself together as long as he could. He’d thought of his best response to dealing with the situation at hand, and now, with nothing to lose, Darwin could allow everything to flood through.
All the fury and anger from his childhood, everything he ever hated about his stepmother and all the people who had hurt his wife today, boiled to the surface, hit the top and overflowed into a madness so blinding and all- encompassing, a small part of him worried if he could ever regain normalcy again.
He screamed, grabbed his wounded, bleeding shoulder, and covered his hand in blood. He then wiped it on each cheek as if it were war paint, and said, “Let’s fuck around a little, you piece of fucking rat shit.”
The Harvester hesitated and looked into Darwin’s face. The moment of indecision was over as fast as it showed itself.
Harvester lunged forward, the blade held high.
Darwin threw his covered left arm at the blade and ducked under it, his right hand going for Harvester’s throat.
He clamped on, oblivious of where the blade was now, and squeezed with inhuman strength on Harvester’s windpipe.
In that moment, raw strength pulsed through him, the kind that mothers use to pick cars up off their babies. He tightened his grip so hard and so fast that he dislodged Harvester’s Adam’s apple. He pushed forward and tightened his grip again, screaming in the madness of the moment.
Harvester flailed his arms and lost his balance as he was thrust backwards, dropping the blade and trying to dislodge Darwin’s hand. At that point, nothing but the claw end of a hammer would release the grip.
Even though his eyes bulged from the pressure, the Harvester smiled. Harvester’s sickness fueled Darwin’s rage.
Their forward momentum tossed them to the floor, Darwin landing on top of the Harvester. As he rolled to the side his hand dislodged from the man’s throat. The Harvester was up on his knees in a flash, trying to learn how to breathe again.
Darwin rolled away and bumped into the tool tray. A metal grip lay beside his head. On the other end of the grip was a bar, similar to a police baton, but with long metal spikes. He almost didn’t touch it when he saw the spikes, but knew he needed to be rash here. He needed to use a sharp implement of some kind to end this.
Darwin grabbed the smooth handle and spun around, but he was too late.
Harvester brought his fist down onto Darwin’s wounded shoulder. He screamed and gagged on the phlegm that had collected in his throat.
The Harvester raised his fist again when Darwin, in awe that he held something sharp in his hand, swung it in a clean arc.
The four-inch spikes embedded in the side of the Harvester’s skull, one punching through his left eye, deep inside his head.
Harvester moaned, mumbled something, and sat down. With his good right eye, he found Darwin lying on his back in front of him. It almost looked like he couldn’t figure out who Darwin was.
Then he lost his balance and lay out on the floor, his right eye staring up at the ceiling.
Darwin got to his feet, his shoulder screaming, and looked over at Rosina. She was awake, watching in frightened silence.
Darwin stepped over to the Harvester. The eye met his. Blood dripped out of the four holes in his skull. The Harvester grinned. “That hurts a little,” he said.
“Goodbye,” Darwin said and lifted his foot. He brought it down hard and almost crushed the weakened side of the Harvester’s skull, blood and bits of brain leaking out onto the floor.
Darwin unwrapped the jacket from his forearm and discovered the cut the machete had made. Harvester had gotten in one good hit.
Damn, that’s going to need stitches.
He used his right hand to rewrap his arm and stepped over to his bride.
“How about it?” he asked, trying to put on a cool face, his hand extended to help her up. “You ready to finish our honeymoon?”
She got to her feet and leaned into him, crying.
“Let’s get out of here,” Darwin said and then stopped. “Did you hear that?”
She shook her head.
“Sounds like police.” He eased her off his chest and looked in her eyes. “There was an accident downstairs. A man was killed in the street.”
She nodded. “I know. A man named Paul. I heard them talking about it.”
“I’ve done some bad things today. But it was all in my defense. I didn’t hurt anybody that didn’t have it coming. And I’m sorry for trying to send you away. You have to know I was trying to protect you.”
“I know,” Rosina said. “They all had it coming. But why are you telling me this?”
“Because there’s cops out front and if more cops are on their way, that means they’re coming for me. I could be in trouble. Once everything is ironed out, I’ll come out looking clean, but understand, that may take time and until then, unless that old man is out of the picture, our lives won’t be worth much.”
She nodded. “I understand. Let’s find him before we leave.”
With Darwin in the lead, they cautiously stepped into the room where the old man had gone before Darwin and Harvester fought.
The room was empty. Following Darwin’s lead, they both walked the hallway and looked in every room they could. Sirens ceased in front of the building as officers arrived. They were running out of time.
The elevator kicked into gear.
“I’m sorry, Rosina.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You did everything right. You saved me, didn’t you?”
He nodded and held her close, keeping an eye on the hallway.
“Did they hurt you?”
“Not really. I was scared, but they were instructed to leave me alone until they had you. I did see them hurt a man really bad. They ended up killing him.” She looked into Darwin’s eyes. “I’m so glad you killed the Harvester of Sorrow. That man shouldn’t be allowed to live.”
“How does someone get the name Harvester of Sorrow? That’s so fucked.”
