“Phew! So heavy… Makes me wonder how that thin-ass plastic can hold so much. And there’s… like… seven more left…”

  The college-aged Jorge’s voice was like a roller coaster, going from relief to curiosity, and then disappointment in a matter of seconds, realizing just how many more garbage bags needed to be dragged and put into the dumpster. Taking off one of his gloves for a moment, he wiped the sweat around his buzzcut with his bare fingers.

  “I can do those on my own.” Javier’s response was obvious, considering what had happened in his mere four days on the job.

  So obvious, but his older coworker looked almost offended as he looked up at him in disbelief.

  “No way, man! Look, I was just coping, okay? Everyone does it, doesn’t mean I’m not going to work, much less leave it all to a kid!”

  “I’m bigger. Stronger.” Javier replied matter-of-factly. That much was even more obvious.

  “So what?” Jorge insisted, eyes narrowed. “How old did you say you were? Like, fifteen or something? The boss is a major dick so he couldn’t care less, but to me it doesn’t matter if you’re a giant or a midget; you’re a kid and that’s what matters. Just let me take a piss and get us some water, then we can both finish up.”

  Rubbing his hand across his shaved head once more, he exhaled deeply while walking back through the diner’s back door, stretching his arms up with interlocked fingers.

  Javier kept looking for a few more seconds, his expression unchanged in its aloofness, then walked toward the remaining sixty-gallon bags. Without Jorge’s insistence on helping with each one, it would only take around a minute to finish dumping all.

  It was a tad annoying that he could only settle his debts with Jorge when he was away, but he was beginning to get used to it. It did not hurt that it was still much easier than most of what he had to do previously.

  Before that police officer happened to return his second wallet out of the blue, and he revealed the location of Dad’s meet in return.

  Javier had always been unusually big for his age, now taller and more muscular than his father and most of the people they often dealt with. To anyone who knew of his youth, the fact he was already working as muscle for relatively big names in their snow operation was a source of surprise, interest, and sometimes offense. He still did not fully understand the logic of it; it only made sense for him to pull his weight in the organization, and such a job was where he could put his biggest strengths to use.

  He had accompanied Miguel to a few meets once he turned thirteen, three months later he was asked to keep an eye on Ana as she took over new territory, and just before he turned fourteen, Dad had begun taking him to every important deal as if it had always been the case. The one from four days ago would have been no exception, had he not skipped after such a heinous act of betrayal.

  Still, he did not feel any regret for the fact, as he did not really have a choice on the matter. He was only repaying a debt in the way that should be most useful to a law enforcement agent.

  Only Javier’s first wallet was indispensable, holding possibly incriminating information, but the second one held most of his cash in hand. It was what he used to afford most of his casual expenses, such as the food truck meal he planned to get before meeting back up with Dad. If that rookie officer had gone out of his way to give it back to him after finding it, there was no way he could let him leave empty-handed.

  Indeed, there was no way around it. It was only what Dad had taught him, something that man would never dare to complain about.

  At first, the officer had been in disbelief, then upset at what he thought was a joke in bad taste before leaving. It was of no concern to Javier, as whatever someone did with a debt’s payment was up to them; but when he checked his police scanner a few hours later, out of nothing more than lingering curiosity, he clearly heard orders and directions that could have only been meant to corner the meet’s location.

  Knowing as much as he could have wished to, there was little reason for him to stay in the city any longer. Once Dad and his associates were caught, the cartel would immediately start looking for possible rats. and deal with them as they saw fit.

  Leaving town for some other place, preferably one under the control of an enemy group, was the only remaining choice. Alone, to attract the least attention possible as he traveled… Perhaps a futile effort, as his absence from the meet was the closest thing to a target he could put on his back.

  Like back then, his thoughts went back to Alba; Sofía, Diego, the twins. And once again, he did not truly know why. The way they lived at the house was, in purely structural terms, a family; but even if they very roughly played roles like those of mothers and siblings, there was likely no real basis for it. They did not even know who was related to who in that house, only who were Dad’s children and who were his lovers.

  Even so, he had found himself pondering how he could leave with them. The needs of everyone once they were on the road, which of their possessions they could take, how to find a place they could all stay…

  Useless thoughts for what would only make things more problematic. But in the end, he still sent one last text message to Alba, telling her what happened at the meet and about the dangers of staying in the city. Crushing the burner right after and trusting her to tell the others so they could all remain safe, he finally left.

  A week had passed since then. The cash he had gathered was enough to afford a very small, but usable motel room within one day, and he had found a cleaning job at the diner by the next two. He could not complain about the pace at which his plans were moving along, having already heard of a service that could arrange an opportunity for him beyond the border, but he knew every day he stayed put was one more day the cartel had to find him.

  Of course, he also knew they could reach him today of all days. But still… He never expected it would be him.

  “Javi!”

  By the diner’s entrance, seen as soon as he entered through the back to wash his hands in the restroom, was Javier’s father with that uniquely pure smile of his.

  “…? You know him, mister?”

  A voice asked confusedly. Perhaps Jorge’s, or maybe the boss’. There was no way Javier could tell, as he had become wholly numb to everything beyond his father’s presence.

  “Sure does; he’s one of my sons. Why’re you dressed like that, Javi? All grimy too… Are you really working here~? Heh, they must have some good-ass chicharrón then! I guess I could eat a few arepas with the stuff; could you get us some to talk over?”

  How had he made it out of the police ambush? For him to have found him so quickly was a major problem, but it was of little concern compared to the former issue. Not only had he escaped, but also seemed completely uninjured and relaxed.

  … If he had prevailed with such ease over that conflict, what could Javier even do now? Nothing could stop his father from dealing with the rat.

  “Hello? You deaf or something, Javi? I know you don’t really like talking but sometimes you need to answer, I’ve told you—”

  “Mister, I don’t think our guy looks very comfortable with you here.” A voice barely recognizable as Jorge’s answered, with just the slightest inkling of irritation.

  “Huh?” Dad turned to him, his eyes like those an insensible person might look at a homeless man with. “I can’t talk to my son now? Is that a rule in this place?”

  “It’s just decency to not interrupt people while they’re working, but that’s not what I’m saying.” But Jorge insisted, unconcerned with Dad’s response. “Again, you can just wait until his shift is done to talk to him. If he doesn’t want you here in the meantime, then that’s how it—”

  He was completely clueless about the person he was challenging. That was enough for Javier to finally snap out of his stupor.

  “Don’t worry, Jorge.” He said frantically, his large hand on his coworker’s upper arm. “He’s my dad, he just wants to talk.”

  “…?” Jorge glanced at him with brows furrowed in confusion at first, annoyance second. “Dude, it doesn’t matter. It’s obvious how things are, and you don’t have to talk to him if you don’t—”

  “Please.” Javier insisted, turning to him with a slightly louder, almost trembling voice. “We… haven’t seen each other in days, he wants to catch up.”

  “Finally!”

  Dad sighed as if bothered, then around three seconds of silence passed. Jorge did not find any more words in them, though he certainly seemed to search for them. In the end, he could only give up.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Arepa de chicharrón?”

  “That’d be great. I haven’t eaten in a while, so get me two big ones.”

  Seeing Jorge starting to leave before he finished speaking, Dad’s annoyance resurfaced slightly. Still, it had all disappeared when he turned to Javier again.

  “What are you waiting for? Get us a table, Javi. I’m your dad but also a customer now~!”

  Javier felt colder from each word his father uttered. He wanted to just go, wash his hands as he originally intended and run away, but his body was not his to freely control anymore. Pressing at the sanitizer dispenser nearby and rubbing the cold fluid over his hands, he guided the smiling man to a small free table by the windows.

  He did not sit down until Dad asked him to.

  “Phew. Four days and you already got yourself a job? Don’t think I ever taught you anything about that, but I guess you really are my blood! Go-getters, you and I.”

  “Mm…”

  A conversation like any other for them. Dad speaking his mind, Javier acknowledging his words with nary a voice. Essentially a daily routine.

  Only the situation was far from routine. Why was his father bothering with something like this at all? Any time he handled a rat, a traitor or someone who messed up severely, it was quick, decisive and…

  “… Yeah. Anyway, I was really surprised by how sharp you actually are. Leaving before things got real ugly with that setup.”

  … A new topic caused Javier’s thoughts to spike in a very different direction. He already knew the specifics, but the way in which Dad talked was…

  “The police ambush?” Javier muttered reflexively.

  “What else would it be, Javi?” Dad replied almost sarcastically. “I know you’re too smart for dumb questions. It was hard to believe at first, but you actually saw it coming before any of us! A warning call wouldn’t have hurt, but I guess you didn’t feel comfortable sticking around to buy a burner. Can’t blame you.”

  He could not believe his ears, every word he heard sounding too good to be true. Somehow, Dad thought someone else was behind the incident? The cartel was not targeting him at all, despite everything…?

  “How did you… make it out?”

  … There was no way. People like them had no shortage of enemies, people who would pray for tragedy to strike them like that. But if an insider just happened to leave before things went down…

  “You’re smart, Javi, but remember you took after someone in that regard.” Dad narrowed his eyes with a pleased expression, leaning back on his chair without a care in the world. “Though your old man’s more of a cunning fox than anyone else. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t show up, and decided to bail just in case. Cops had already started to swarm the place by then, but they were still few enough for me to manage.”

  Such pathetic reasoning. His frantic, unceremonious, incriminating leave had become his show of ‘innocence’? Worse, the reason for why the man was even standing before him? Bullshit.

  Was it because they were family? Delusion out of some twisted favoritism? It could not be that either. It would not be enough, and his Dad was not…

  … There may have been other possible reasons, but all Javier could think of at the moment was…

  “… Dad… About who was behind it all…”

  … that another suspect was being targeted.

  “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that too.” Dad replied much too quickly, his smile vanishing as if it had never been present. “While rushing back home to get my cash, I saw them heading out in the car. Alba and such.”

  Javier’s mind turned to stone. His eyes failed to focus, everything going by so fast as he attempted to reject every new thought. But his father did not need a response from him; he did not care about one.

  “I don’t think I have to say how suspicious it is, that they were getting the fuck out just when shit was about to go down. No cops around the house, nothing at all and—”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.” Javier spoke up suddenly. “Dad… No, there’s no way it was them. Look, there’s so many others who could…”

  For the first time in his memory, Javier had interrupted his father’s speech. He forced himself to say something, still unsure of why exactly he would do such a stupid thing. His thoughts were a mess, and he somehow preferred them that way, as the fact that a whole week had passed since then could mean…

  “Javi, you don’t get it. I said ‘suspicious’, but that was only at the start. It’s no longer a suspicion when she admitted to it.”

  … His father’s words forced something incomparably worse into his head.

  Admitted… Admitted to what?

  “I know it really sucks, but Alba stabbed me in the back. She ratted me out to the cops for some protection maybe, and I was just lucky enough to catch her on the way.”

  What? What did she admit to?

  There was nothing for her to say. She did not do anything, no one did. No one… but him, and she knew that.

  Alba was smart, she knew things, she thought about all. She likely did not even need Javier’s text message to know the truth behind everything, and he still had sent it. He was the rat, she was completely aware of that. Why did she say anything else? Why, why would she claim to be behind anything? Why would she admit to…

  WhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhy—

  “Trust me, I know how annoying this is.” That voice—that voice continued on, like the only, only thing in the world. “It wasn’t easy, I’m telling you! I slept with her for years, she was good, but it was a matter of responsibility. Can’t let people like that go on about, especially when they even drag others into it. Would you believe me if I said Diego still tried to defend her after all that?”

  “… Diego?”

  Javier felt nothing but ice within him. An indelible coldness spiraling in every direction; skewering him.

  “Yeah! Was he nine? Seven? Ah, whatever, a kid is a kid, and she still was such a bitch as to turn him against me! Jumping in for a woman who’s not even his mom… Can’t remember if he was Patricia’s or Natalia’s, but he sure as hell wasn’t Alba’s! Didn’t make any sense, the whole situation. Could have ended so easily too, but he just had to get in the way…”

  “… Diego… Diego and Alba?”

  Unbearable. Throbbing. He was not injured, so why that cold seem to burn across his whole body?

  “What did I tell you about dumb questions, Javi?” But Dad spoke like any other time. Same voice, same mannerisms, same face, same eyes, same tone, sam— “I’m not some sadist, I was happy to just take her head off. But I guess she’d gotten that much into Diego’s head, so he tried to do something and got his ribs busted right out. Poor guy couldn’t even breathe anymore, no voice came out even if he tried, so it was just mercy at that point.”

  Cold… Cold? No, not cold. Not anymore.

  Only burning. Burning everywhere. His chest, his blurry eyes, his whirling stomach, his arms… Arms, arms. Arms raising.

  Javier had asked ‘why’ to something specific, but an answer… Any answer was now enough. And now, he had one.

  “So yeah, whoever else was in the car got away during the whole issue. Are you up for helping Dad a bit, Javi? Of course, we’ve downsized a lot, but don’t you think it’s the perfect time for a father-son road trip to track down—”

  An answer that only became more and more clear as his hands moved, increasingly closer to Dad’s face; Dad’s head.

  Capitán. Alba. Diego.

  Debt. Yes, no matter the ‘why’, he owed them all a debt. A debt of his very life, the one that still remained.

  But that was enough. So long as he lived, so long as he survived… A debt is always repaid.

  “No.”

  Javier said, large hands at each side of his father’s head… Before plunging both thumbs deep into his eyes.

  A quick, squelching noise. Warm, viscous membrane surrounding them. Seeping fluid, and the man’s expression which still had not changed until a full second passed. Only when the pressure from his palms began to make something crack did Dad react.

  Before then, purple crystal had burst out like a twisted, inverted pincushion. Solid, intertwining branches of a material that did not exist in this world, moving to the tune of shrill breaking noises as crimson rain sprayed on the window by their side. Javier’s blood.

  Neither the horrified screams from across the restaurant, the grotesque warping of his father’s face, nor the pain on his shoulder, abdomen and jaw came even close to distracting him from his single goal. As if none of that was present in the same plane of existence, Javier only felt a swelling energy as he noticed Dad’s head gradually collapsing under his grip.

  Goaded by that energy, he pressed further, steadily eliminating any slivers of hesitation that may have remained. His flesh tore swiftly after, followed by the grinding of his bones as newly formed crystals pierced all the way out the back of his hands. Still, not even that managed to rattle him.

  He would gladly mangle his whole body in return for the man’s head.

  Javier pressed once more, then swung his arms down. Whether the promptly broken table did anything, or if his father’s head was fully crushed before the impact, he could not ascertain. The result was the same either way, like fruit through a half-broken blender.

  Javier exhaled heavily, noticing so many sensations returning to his body. He was sweating so much but felt no warmth, aside from the crimson liquid seeping past his wounds without rest.

  From high on the window, down the wall, by the shattered table and further, both his and his motionless father’s blood dripped and spread at a slow pace. Following the trail with his gaze, he happened upon a returning Jorge, who had at some point dropped the tray of food onto the floor.

  Javier could not get a full glimpse of his face. That his former coworker waited even a second before running off was quite impressive, but expecting anything more was nonsensical. Once Jorge, the last person escaped, silence reigned.

  It should have. And yet, it somehow did not.

  Survival?

  A voice spoke up, as if whispering close to his ear… No. It clearly did not come from his side, but rather his front, where nothing but broken wood and a broken corpse remained. Had he lost his mind? Hallucination due to blood loss?

  If you seek survival above all, I can understand.

  The voice followed on, not heard by his ears, but reaching into his very mind. Javier’s attention was somehow drawn to the purple, blood-stained crystals so close to collapse. His gaze on a minuscule crack, he noticed its glacial, but sure spread.

  You’re dying.

  As are you.

  A single fracture, growing and leading to several more. His blood flowed at the same pace, leaving that which he needed to live dry and shriveled.

  But it does not have to be that way.

  He used you to kill them.

  Finally, the voice quieted down for a moment. It clearly wished to speak again, but stopped in the way a human might when interrupted.

  Yes, that is right. It was my power that allowed him.

  Javier’s eyes narrowed, both his swelling emotions and weakening body playing a role. Even so… He reached out for the crystal with his torn hand.

  Then I’ll have you repay that debt properly.

  His skin was pierced once more, but he did not stop. The crystal rippled, pulsating with life in the way no mineral he knew of should. Then, it laughed for but a second.

  To think I would only see this drive…

  The crystal began to disappear, steadily crumbling from its tips.

  Only for more of it to appear at the same time, gradually sprouting from Javier’s open wounds.

  … from one of your kind.

  If all you care for is surviving…

  The pain was excruciating, as if a white-hot iron broke through his whole spine. And yet, the hidden strength he felt was…

  … then we will!

  … unmatched.

  No one else would know for sure what happened at that diner. Called desperately about some family conflict, perhaps drug-related, the police officers dispatched had been warned about the possibility of violence. But when they were retrieved; some maimed beyond recognition, others insensate and amnesiac from injury, and many on death’s door; all they could talk about was one thing.

  Not a father, not a son, but a beast bound for hell.