The Price Of Hatred

Chapter 7 - Almost

​James didn't look back. He hit the heavy iron push-bar of the fire door with the full weight of his shoulder. The door flew open, and he burst out into the cool, sharp morning air of the Spanish streets. He stood on the concrete sidewalk, his heart hammering violently against his ribs like a trapped bird, his eyes moving frantically across the empty, sun-bleached road. He had no car, no weapon, and no way out.

​Screeech!

​The violent burn of rubber sliced through the morning quiet. A bright yellow taxi swerved across the lane, its brakes groaning as it slammed to a halt right at the curb in front of him. Before the vehicle had even completely stopped shaking, the rear passenger door swung wide open from the inside.

​Todd’s pale face appeared in the dark gap of the interior, his good hand gripping the frame. “Get in!” he roared. “Right now”.

​James lunged forward, throwing his entire body into the back seat and slamming the door shut behind him with a heavy thud.

​Through the rear window, the heavy fire doors of the hospital crashed open, and the two police officers lunged out onto the sidewalk, their hands reaching down for their holstered sidearms. But they were already too late. The taxi driver slammed his foot onto the accelerator, the engine let out a high-pitched scream, and the rear tires spun against the asphalt—leaving the cops standing frozen in a thick, gray cloud of exhaust as the car sped away, disappearing completely into the rushing Spanish traffic.

The yellow taxi tore through the narrow, sun-bleached streets of Spain, its suspension groaning as it slammed over potholes and zipped past rows of faded apartment buildings. Inside, the air was suffocatingly hot, smelling of cheap pine air freshener and the metallic tang of dried blood. James leaned back into the worn vinyl seat, his chest still heaving with adrenaline. His hands were braced hard against the front seats to steady himself against the violent turns.

​He shifted his gaze to the front, looking past the unfamiliar driver to where Todd sat. Todd was leaning heavily against the passenger door, his freshly bandaged arm cradled protectively against his ribs, his knuckles white as he held onto the dashboard with his good hand.

​“I thought you left me,” James said, his voice dropping into the cramped space of the car, raw and laced with the remnants of his panic.

​Todd didn't turn his head immediately. He kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, watching the Spanish traffic blur past through the bug-splattered windshield. His jaw was set tight, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

​“You thought I would ever leave you there?” Todd asked, his voice low but carrying a sharp edge of offense. He adjusted his stance slightly, a grimace crossing his face as a sharp bump rippled pain through his freshly stitched arm. “I already heard the cops the moment they arrived at the front lobby. I knew exactly what was coming.”

​James leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as the gravity of the situation caught up to him. “The doctor called them. She called them because she extracted three military bullets from Tidder’s stomach.”

​Todd’s posture stiffened even more. He shot a quick, alarmed look over his shoulder at James before snapping his eyes back to the road. “Then we have to get Tidder out of that hospital. Right now.”

​James’s face hardened, the vulnerability from moments before vanishing behind a wall of cold, detached stone. He sank back into the shadows of the rear seat, staring out the side window. “I’m not worried about her,” he said flatly, his words sounding deliberate and hollow. “She will find her way out herself.”

​Todd gasped, his head spinning around completely this time, ignoring the pain in his arm. “What?”

​James didn't look back at him.

​“You’re crazy, you know that?” Todd’s voice rose, vibrating with a mixture of disbelief and growing anger. “You think the cops are just gonna leave her there unwatched in an open ward? She’s under guard, James!”

​“Keep your eyes on the road,” James snapped, his hand shooting forward to point at the windshield as the taxi clipped a curb.

​But Todd wasn't backing down. The fury in his chest was boiling over now, fueled by the pain of his own wounds and the sheer absurdity of James’s coldness. “You don't really actually care about her, do you?” Todd shouted over the drone of the engine. “She’s your sister!”

​James’s jaw tightened until it ached. He finally snapped, his eyes flashing with a sudden, bitter emotion that burned through his calm facade. “You already heard what she said back at the oil station! You heard her! She told Roman she doesn't have a brother. She called me an asshole!”

​“Oh, and that’s what you’re going to hold onto right now?” Todd fired back, his voice thick with disgust. “While she’s lying in a hospital bed with holes in her stomach?”

​James slammed his mouth shut. He twisted his head away, staring blindly out the window as the buildings grew more dilapidated and industrial. He didn't offer another word, letting the heavy, suffocating silence fill the cab.

​After twenty minutes of agonizing tension, the taxi slowed down, entering a gritty, sun-baked neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. Todd pulled up to the curb, stopping right in front of the squat, grey apartment building where they had been hiding out. Before the tires had even stopped rolling against the gravel, James shoved the rear door open. He climbed out instantly, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the glass, and began marching toward the concrete steps of the entrance.

​Todd didn't hesitate. He kicked his door open, and stumbled out into the hot afternoon air. His boots crunched loudly on the gravel as he hurried to catch up, his breath coming in short, painful gasps.

​“James, wait!” Todd yelled, his voice echoing off the concrete walls.

​James didn't stop. He took the stairs two at a time, his key already out, aiming for the rusted metal lock of their apartment door.

​“I said wait! We can't just leave her there!” Todd roared. Just as James reached the door, Todd lunged forward. He threw his good hand onto James’s shoulder, twisting his entire body around and slamming him back against the plaster wall beside the frame. “Wait!”

​The two young men stood face-to-face, breathing heavily, the heat of the narrow corridor pressing down on them.

​“You should wake up, James. We have to get her out of there,” Todd pleaded, his eyes wide and intense, completely unmasked. “She’s still your sister. It doesn't matter what she said about you back there. She could be right, or she could be wrong. But right now, she needs your help. She can't f*****g help herself while she's tied to an IV and bleeding!”

​James stared at him, his chest heaving.

​“Show it to her that you actually care about her,” Todd whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of their shared, painful past. “Prove to her that you don't just come running to her when you only need something from her. Be her brother, James.”

​The words seemed to strike James like a physical blow. The rigid, angry posture he held suddenly collapsed. He let out a long, shuddering breath, his head dropping back against the wall. He raised his hand, running his fingers through his sweat-matted hair, leaving a faint streak of dry blood across his forehead.

​“I don't know what to do, Todd,” James said, his voice dropping into a desperate whisper. His eyes were wide, looking completely lost. “I don't know what to do.”

​Todd watched him closely, his expression softening as the anger drained out of him. He stepped back slightly, giving James space, but his eyes never wavered. “Are you sure? You really don't know what to do?”

​They stood there in the dim light of the hallway, just staring at each other. It was a silent communication they had practiced since they were boys in the orphanage—a shared understanding born from surviving a world that wanted them dead. James looked into Todd’s calculating, steady eyes, and he instantly recognized that specific, dangerous look.

​James shook his head rapidly, stepping away from the door. “No. No, no, no. I’m not going back into that hospital. It’s a trap.”

​“You ain't scared of s**t, I know you,” Todd said, stepping back into his space, his voice dropping into a low, persuasive hum. “To get her out of the hospital right now will still be easy to do. The longer we wait, the harder it gets.”

​“But the cops will be all over that floor,” James argued, his logic trying to fight off Todd’s determination. “They’re going to be checking identification. They’ll be watching anyone who even comes close to seeing her.”

​“I’m sure there won't be more than two cops stationed at her door,” Todd countered, his mind already spinning a web of strategy. “I will find a way to distract them. I’ll pull them away from the room, and you grab her.” Todd leaned in closer, his tone turning deadly serious. “James, if we don't get her out tonight, by tomorrow morning she’ll be stabilized. The cops will put her in handcuffs and take her straight to the central station. If she gets locked in a cell, she’s as good as dead. Roman’s people will reach her before a judge does.”

​James went rigid at the mention of Roman. He looked down at his own stained clothes, then turned his gaze toward the small window at the end of the hallway. Outside, the bright Spanish sun was finally dipping below the horizon, bleeding a deep, bruised purple across the sky. Evening was settling in, bringing a cold, deceptive shadow over the city.

​James took a deep, steadying breath. His spine straightened, turning back into that line of iron from his childhood.

​“Okay,” James said, his voice hardening into a razor-sharp resolve. “We will do it tonight.”

​Todd nodded, a ghost of a grim smile appearing on his pale face. “Yes. We will.”

​James turned the key in the lock, pushing the heavy apartment door open into the dark, silent interior. Before he stepped inside, he paused, a heavy mumble escaping his lips as he stared into the gloom.

​“I pray we still meet her there.”