CHAPTER 39: THE FLORAL RUG

Xitllali

"Valdo! Mateo!" I screamed, spinning around to face the street. "Bring him!"

They didn't hesitate. Mateo grabbed Guillermo under his broad shoulders, and Valdo grabbed his legs.

They lifted his massive weight off the wet cobblestones and rushed toward the house.

I pushed the wooden door open wider for them.

Beatriz stepped back as they carried Guillermo into the small living room, her hands shaking as she clutched her medical kit to her chest.

The house smelled like cinnamon, old paper, and the dried lavender I had given Beatriz just last week. It was just a normal, quiet home.

"Where?" Mateo grunted, struggling to hold Guillermo’s heavy frame.

Beatriz stared at the blood dripping onto her clean hardwood floor and she took a deep, shaky breath. I could see the exact moment her years of hospital training cut through her terror.

"On the rug," she ordered and pointed to a large, braided floral rug in the center of the room. "Lay him flat on his back. Do not drop him."

They gently lowered him to the floor. His head rolled to the side, completely limp. His face was gray, and his lips were turning a terrifying shade of blue.

"Esperanza, go to the kitchen," she said, dropping to her knees beside Guillermo and opening her kit. "I need all the clean towels you can find. And bring a bowl of warm water. Hurry.”

I ran into the small kitchen and ripped open the cabinets, grabbing a stack of clean white dish towels and a large plastic bowl.

I turned on the sink, waiting two agonizing seconds for the water to fill the bowl, and ran back into the living room.

When I returned, Valdo was already using his knife to cut away Guillermo’s heavy coat and his ruined shirt.

Guillermo’s bare chest was exposed. The cold clay packs I had put on him in the cellar were gone, replaced by an ugly pool of dark red blood.

The wound in his shoulder was completely ripped open.

I dropped to my knees on the other side of him and set the bowl down. Then I pressed a clean white towel directly over his wound. It soaked through with warm blood in less than ten seconds.

"The artery is completely torn," Beatriz said. Her hands were moving fast, pulling sterile clamps, a needle, and thick surgical thread from her kit. She looked up at me, her eyes dead serious. "Esperanza, there is no bullet, but the muscle is ripped apart. I have the tools to clamp the vein and stitch the muscle. But I do not have anesthesia. I only have rubbing alcohol. If I do this while he is awake, the pain will put his body into deep shock."

"He's unconscious," I said, my voice trembling as I pressed another towel to his chest. "Just do it. Please, Beatriz. Save him.”

"If he wakes up while I am digging in his shoulder, he will fight me," she warned. She looked at Valdo and Mateo. "You two are large men. Pin his legs and his right arm to the floor. Put all your weight on him. If he moves, I could sever the nerve completely, and he will lose his arm forever."

Mateo immediately dropped his heavy knees over Guillermo’s right arm, pinning it flat against the rug. Valdo threw his body weight across Guillermo’s legs.

"Hold his head, Esperanza," Beatriz ordered. "Do not let him move his neck."

I slid closer, moving my knees until I was right next to his head. Then I placed both of my hands firmly on the sides of his face. His skin was freezing cold.

She took a bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured it directly into the open wound.

The reaction was violent and immediate.

Guillermo gasped, a harsh, ragged sound tearing from his throat. His entire massive body jolted upward, and Mateo and Valdo grunted, using all their strength to force him back down against the floral rug.

Guillermo's eyes snapped open.

They were wild, dilated, and completely clouded with blinding agony. He didn't know where he was. He thrashed against Mateo's grip, his jaw locking tight as a low, animal-like groan of pain vibrated in his chest.

Beatriz didn't stop. She picked up a metal surgical clamp and pushed her fingers directly into his bleeding shoulder.

Guillermo screamed.

It wasn't a loud noise, but a broken, suffocated roar of pure agony. The muscles in his neck strained against my hands.

"Guillermo, look at me!" I cried, leaning over him.

I pressed my forehead firmly against his, forcing his wild eyes to find mine.

"Look at me!" I begged, my tears falling freely onto his pale cheeks. "I am right here. Don't look away from me. I've got you."

His chest heaved. Through the blinding haze of pain, his eyes finally locked onto mine. He recognized me.

"Xitllali," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

"I'm here," I sobbed, moving my hands to grip his hair, holding his head completely still while Beatriz dug into his shoulder.

"Hold on. Please, stay with me."

For two agonizing minutes, he didn't look away from my eyes. His breathing was harsh and fast, and sweat poured down his face, but he stopped fighting Mateo.

He focused every ounce of his remaining strength entirely on my face, anchoring himself to my voice while Beatriz clamped the bleeding artery deep inside his muscle.

It was the most terrifying, intimate moment of my life. At that moment, I didn't care about anything else, I just wanted him to live.

"Got it," Beatriz gasped, her own forehead covered in sweat.

The heavy flow of blood immediately slowed. She quickly grabbed the needle and thread and began sewing the deep tissue together.

Guillermo's eyes fluttered. The pain had completely drained him. He let out a long, shaky breath, his tense muscles finally relaxing against the rug as he slipped back into a heavy, dark unconsciousness.

"He's out," Valdo breathed, slowly stepping off his legs. Mateo released his arm, wiping sweat from his own face.

I stayed where I was, my forehead still resting against Guillermo’s, my hands gently stroking his dark hair. My heart was beating so fast I felt dizzy. He was going to live.

She tied off the final stitch and covered the wound with a thick, clean white bandage. Her hands were covered in his blood.

Before anyone could speak, a sharp burst of static filled the quiet living room.

It came from the heavy black radio strapped to Valdo's tactical vest.

Valdo quickly grabbed the radio and pressed the button. "Hector, do you copy?"

There was a second of static, and then Hector's deep voice came through the speaker.

"I copy, Valdo. We are entering the town limits now with thirty armored trucks. We have the streets locked down."

A massive wave of relief washed over me. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath.

But when I opened my eyes, the relief instantly vanished.

Beatriz was still sitting on her heels. The quiet living room was very still.

She looked down at the blood on her floral rug. She looked at Valdo and Mateo, who were both armed, covered in soot, and talking on a military radio about armored trucks locking down the town. Then, she looked at Guillermo's chest, staring directly at the old, faded bullet scars from his past.

Finally, her terrified eyes settled on me.

"Esperanza," she whispered, her voice trembling as she backed away from us slowly. "Who are these people? And why did that man call you Xitllali?”