The Fallen Read online

  Frankie blinked.

  Maybe it was the guilt he had for Huero’s death. Maybe it was that he didn’t want to shoot me in daylight where a crowd of people could witness it. Or maybe it was because he was shocked that I was willing to die to prove I ain’t a killer. I don’t know what it was, but Frankie let me go.

  “This ain’t done,” he growled and jumped back into his car.

  I believe him.

  The clock over Ms. Spencer’s desk said 10:38. Frankie and the boys had been on the road for 20 minutes already. There were at least two guns in the car, and the only one who knew their plan was me. I was wasting time.

  “C’mon, Martin. It’s like I said before. You have a choice. You can end this right now,” Mr. Mitchell said, staring at me like I was a puzzle. “We’re listening. ”

  I could feel myself zoning out, like there was a fog settling over my brain. All last night, I replayed how this day would go down. When I grabbed my bandana and left to meet Frankie, I knew I had to walk away, that Frankie was gonna come at me like never before. But I figured if I could just escape and get to Bluford, it would all be over.

  I was wrong.

  Looking at Ms. Spencer’s tight jaw and Mr. Mitchell’s wide eyes, I knew it was just beginning.

  Chapter 2

  “He’s in the principal’s office, Ms. Luna. He’s been hit in the head, and he’s a little out of it. We have an ambulance coming to take him to the hospital,” I heard Ms. Bader, the school secretary, say in the distance.

  Instantly, the pounding in my head got worse.

  I closed my eyes and listened as the familiar jingle of my mom’s keys grew louder. Then I heard another sound. My mom gasping.

  “Oh, Jesus, no!” she cried, darting across the office to me.

  “I’m okay, Ma. It looks worse than it is,” I said, shocked at who followed her into the office. It was Ramirez! Like always, my mom must have called him the second she knew something was wrong with me. No wonder he hadn’t answered his phone.

  “Who did this? Who did this?! ” my mother yelled, brushing my hair and then hugging me. Her eyes were wet and bloodshot. I didn’t want to see them. I pushed her away.

  “Ma, I need to talk to Officer Ramirez now. It’s important. Can you all leave us for a minute?”

  Mr. Mitchell and Ms. Spencer stared at each other. My mom started shaking her head, the way she always does before she says no. I looked at Officer Ramirez. I needed him to listen to me.

  “Please, Imelda. It will just be a minute,” he said.

  Mr. Mitchell almost looked hurt for a second, but he walked out of the office without a word. So did Ms. Spencer. Officer Ramirez closed the door behind them.

  “What happened, Martin?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was about to do something I never did before—talk to a cop. For a second I couldn’t speak, like invisible hands were holding my mouth shut.

  Snitch! I could hear a voice in my head insulting me. Martin Luna’s a snitch!

  That’s one thing you don’t do in the barrio, something I never did no matter how many times I got in trouble. But I kept thinking of Huero and what was about to happen in his name. I couldn’t let it happen.

  “I know who shot my brother,” I said, careful to keep my friends’ names hidden. “His name is Hector Maldenado, and he lives at 2187 Tanner Street. You need to throw his butt in jail before something really bad happens to him. ”

  “Bad?” Ramirez said, studying my face. I knew he understood me. “How soon?”

  “Like right now,” I said, glancing up at the clock. “Get someone over there now, or it’s gonna be too late. ”

  “How do you know this?”

  I shrugged my shoulder.

  “Is Frankie Pacheco behind this?”

  “I didn’t say that. ” I knew I didn’t have to. He was smart enough to figure that much out himself.

  “Martin, if something happens to Hector, you and Frankie—”

  “I didn’t do nothin’!” I said before he could go any further. “And nothin’s gonna happen if you leave right now. Go!”

  My head felt like it was breaking apart. If you told me a month ago that I’d send out the police against my friends, I would have been all up in your face. Now look at me.

  I just kept picturing Frankie and the boys rolling up on Hector only to have a dozen cop cars surround them. Either the cops would arrive early and catch Frankie with guns in his car, or they’d arrive too late and Hector would be shot.

  Either way it played out, it was going to be bad. And I was at the center of it.

  Martin Luna’s a rat. That voice in my head wouldn’t shut up.

  Officer Ramirez bolted out of Ms. Spencer’s office like someone whose house was burning down. Within seconds, Ms. Spencer, Mr. Mitchell, and my mother were back.

  “What’s happening, mijo? What did you tell him?” my mother asked, staring at me, her face pale like she was coming down with the flu or something. I felt sick too. Nauseous.

  “Don’t worry about it, Ma,” I said, rubbing my forehead where Frankie clocked me. I could feel the lump there. And the blood in my hair. The pain.

  My mother looked at my hands and turned to Ms. Spencer. “Where’s the doctor? How come you’re all standing around? His head’s bleeding!”

  “The ambulance should be here any second, Ms. Luna. ” Ms. Spencer rubbed her own temples. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

  “Frankie did this to you, didn’t he?” My mother gave me that look moms do when they think you’re hiding something.

  “It ain’t like that, Ma,” I said, my voice breaking. The less she knew, the better.

  “The ambulance is out front,” Ms. Bader called out.

  “C’mon, mijo. Let’s go. I’m going to ride with you. ”

  I tried to stand up, but my balance was gone. The room spun like the inside of a washing machine. Even the fluorescent lights overhead became dim and hazy.

  A paramedic got in my face and said something, but his words were slow and made no sense.

  In the chair across the office, I noticed something strange.

  A small boy, younger than any freshman. He was wearing a backwards Los Angeles Angels baseball cap, and he was looking at me and smiling.

  It was my little brother.

  I’m so sorry for all this, Huero, I tried to say, but my words came out all mumbled.

  “What did he just say?” the medic asked.

  Tears filled my eyes. They burned as they snaked down my swollen face. I tried to reach out to Huero. To touch him again. But my arms were suddenly like dead weights and the world was fading around me.

  I blinked and he was gone.

  Then blackness . . .

  I don’t know how long I was out, but when I woke up, I was in a hospital bed wearing a papery gown. I felt naked and cold in that thing, but what woke me up even faster was the person at the foot of my bed.

  It was Officer Ramirez.

  “What happened?” I asked, sitting upright. I noticed my mother’s jacket draped across a chair at the foot of the bed. My clothes were there too.

  “You’re in the hospital, Martin. Whoever hit you gave you a concussion. You got a few stitches too, but you’re all right. The doctors wanted to observe you for a while before they send you home. Now that you’re awake, they’ll probably get you outta here soon. Your mother’s been here all day. She just went down to get a cup of coffee. ”

  “But what happened with Hector? Did you get there on time?”

  “Nothing happened, Martin,” he said, crossing his arms on his chest. “We had people on Tanner Street, and I even had someone check out Frankie Pacheco’s house . . . just in case,” he said, eyeing me. I didn’t blink. “He was working on his car when we found him. He kept at it all day. ”

  My heart was pounding so loud I thought he could have heard it if he listened. Nothing happened. That meant I stopped them. Frankie changed his plans because of me. But wha
t else did it mean? Was Frankie just giving up? And what about Hector? Was he in jail already? The questions flooded my head faster than I could speak.

  “Listen, Martin. I want to applaud you for contacting me. Every day bad things happen in the city that could be prevented if someone were brave enough to take a stand. People complain all the time, but few are willing to step up and do something about it. ”

  I ignored him. I wanted answers, not a pep talk.

  “What about Hector? You got him, right?”

  “Now listen, Martin,” he said. I could tell by the way his voice hung in the air that he was going to say something I didn’t want to hear. “We don’t have any real proof that Hector did anything. He has no record, and he seems to spend his time with his family. Are you positive he shot Huero?”

  I blinked. I couldn’t believe my ears. Not again. Not another day with Huero’s killer walking free.

  “I know for a fact he did it,” I blurted out.

  “What proof do you have?”

  I could feel my temper building. The truth was I hadn’t seen anything that day except a white car with tinted windows. The only reason I knew Hector was involved was because Chago and Frankie told me. I knew they wouldn’t lie, not about this, but I couldn’t say that without bringing them into it. That would just make things worse.

  “I just know he did it,” I said.

  “Well unless you can prove it, or you can get someone who knows to talk to us, we can’t do anything except investigate. We can’t just go arresting people on rumors, Martin. ”

  His words were a slap in my face. After months of waiting, I couldn’t listen to more excuses. For a second, I saw red. Blood red.

  “You see! This is why people don’t come to you. ’Cause when they do, no one believes them and nothin’ gets done. I don’t know why I even bothered with you. You’re no different than the rest of them. ”

  “C’mon, Martin. No one wants to solve your brother’s murder more than me—”

  “I do!” I screamed. “You think I took this beating for nothin’? It coulda all been different, Officer,” I said, twisting the word into an insult. “If I’da known this is how it would end up, I wouldn’ta said nothin’ to you. ” It was like a dam burst in my head, and my anger was just spilling out. I kept thinking about Huero. I saw him in my mind lying on the ground again, his life pouring through my fingers and dripping onto the concrete like red rain.

  “You know we got ways of handing this without the police,” I added, unable to stop myself. I knew my words sounded like a threat, but I didn’t care.

  “Now be careful, Martin. You did the right thing today. You had enough guts and sense to try to solve this the right way. Now stick with it. I don’t want to find you on the street in a pool of blood, and I don’t want you to waste your life in jail. You’re a good kid, and your mom would do anything for you. You’ve got more going for you than a lotta kids out there. Stay at Bluford. Get your education, and do something with yourself. You hear me?” He put his hand on my shoulder like we were friends or something.

  “Yeah, I hear you,” I mumbled, shrugging off his hand. Who was he to tell me what I should be doing when he let a killer go free? “I hear you sayin’ you’re not gonna do nothin’ about what happened to Huero. ”

  He looked like I had just slapped him in the face. Part of me wanted to hit him too.

  “Look, there’s no point talking to you right now,” Officer Ramirez said, taking a deep breath and turning away from me. “I’m going to keep my eyes and ears open, and we’ll be watching Hector. We’re not giving up on Huero. ”

  “Whatever,” I hissed, cursing under my breath. It was like old times, when anger was the only thing I felt.

  “And listen, Martin,” he added as he reached the doorway. “No matter what you do, stay away from Frankie. He looked like he expected us to be watching him today. He might even think you were the reason we were interested in him. I’m saying this to warn you. Stay away from him, and if he starts bothering you in any way, call me. You got it?”

  “Yeah, I’ll call you,” I said, knowing I would never do it, not after this.

  He sighed and walked out. I grabbed my clothes and changed out of the hospital gown. Not only was my little brother’s killer still out there. Now Frankie, the guy who used to be like a big brother, might be coming after me. And the only person in his way was Officer Ramirez.

  Please! He was useless. A bull’s-eye painted on my chest would protect me better than him.

  “Mijo! Thank God you’re awake. You’ve been asleep for hours,” my mother said, rushing in from the hallway to give me a hug. “Did you see Nelson?”

  “Yeah. He just left,” I said.

  “I’m so proud of you for talking to him. He’s been so good to us. I hope you thanked him for what he did. ”

  Thanked him? For what? I wanted to say. Getting Frankie after me and letting Huero’s killer go free? I didn’t feel like fighting with her in the middle of the hospital. My head still hurt, and I was tired.

  “Whatever, Ma,” I said.

  She sighed and put her hands on my face, forcing me to look at her.

  “You scared me,” she said. “If Nelson wasn’t with us this morning, I would have lost it. He told me you did a brave thing and that I should be proud of you. Now I don’t know what happened, and since you won’t talk to me about it, I’m just going to say this once. I don’t want you hanging out with any of your old friends. They’re no good, Martin. I don’t want you going back there anymore, not unless you’re with me. ”

  “What? ” I yelled, feeling my old temper coming back. “That ain’t right. What are you punishing me for?”

  “I’m not punishing you, Martin. I’m protecting you. I lost one son, and I’m not gonna lose another one. End of story. ”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Neither does Ramirez,” I yelled. My world was crashing down, and everyone I knew was trying to make it worse.

  “You can yell all you want, but you’re not going to see them anymore,” she said.

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” I mumbled just loud enough for her to hear.

  She glared at me, and I just looked away. I knew she was serious, but so was I. Huero was buried in our old neighborhood, and if I wanted to visit him, there was no way I was going to ask for permission. Not from her or anyone.

  I was glad when the doctor came in and cut off our conversation. He checked my head and shined a light in my eyes.

  “I’m gonna send you home tonight,” he said. “But for the next two weeks, be gentle with your head. That means no gym class, no sports, and please, no fighting. Another shot to the head could cause permanent brain damage. ”

  He spoke as if I had a choice about where Frankie hit me. My mother sighed at his last words, but I ignored her.

  “Whatever you say, Doc,” I replied.

  It was getting dark when we finally left the hospital. My mother and I didn’t speak to each other at all on the bus ride back. What was I going to say? All I wanted to do was yell.

  When we stepped off the bus, I walked ahead of her to our apartment. As I neared our front step, I spotted something dark covering our doorknob, something that made my stomach drop and my heart race.

  My black bandana.

  I grabbed it before my mom noticed it. But I knew who had put it there. The same person who knocked it off my head earlier that day. The same one who wanted me to know I was in trouble.

  Frankie.

  Chapter 3

  That night I didn’t sleep.

  I kept listening to the creaks and groans of our apartment, wondering if someone was watching us.

  It’s funny how many sounds the night makes, especially when you’re nervous. At one point, I swear I heard someone walking in our kitchen. I even grabbed Huero’s old baseball bat in case I needed to hit something.

  Just some pipes in the wall making noise. I checked all the closets and then glanced out our living room w
indow to make sure Frankie’s LeMans wasn’t out there. Nothing.

  Somewhere far away, sirens screamed, and a memory of Huero’s ambulance ride to the hospital flashed in my mind. My mother and I followed in a neighbor’s car, and we could see paramedics pumping Huero’s chest through the small ambulance window. My mother screamed like she was being tortured. It was a reallife nightmare, worse than anything I ever dreamed. I shook off the memory, closed our blinds, and headed back to my room.

  In the hallway, my mother had set up a tiny table beneath an old picture of Huero. Two red church candles were burning under the photo. I could see my brother’s face dimly in the dark. It was like he was watching me.

  “I miss you, little brother,” I whispered to his picture.

  The last time I whispered to Huero was on a night last spring. He had a bad dream, and he came into my room and woke me up.

  “Martin, I’m scared,” he said, his eyes half closed.

  “Don’t worry,” I said to him. “Ain’t nothin’ in a dream that can hurt you. ” He yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was as dark and quiet a night as it ever got in our neighborhood.

  He fell asleep next to me, and I was awake the whole night because he snored loudly and kicked me a few times. I was annoyed with him then, but now I’d do anything to have that time back. You’re gonna have a moment like that too, a time when you wish for things to be back the way they used to be, even if they weren’t perfect.

  In the flickering candlelight, shadows crept up and down the hallway like ghosts. I remembered the boy I saw in the office at Bluford just before I passed out.

  Was it Huero?

  It might have just been the hit to my head. Maybe I was losing it.

  Or maybe he was still with me somehow. Watching over me the way I was supposed to watch over him.

  I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you, little brother.

  At 7:00 my alarm blasted me awake like it did every other morning. Only this time, I felt like kicking it. I must have slept an hour or two at most. The last place I wanted to go was Bluford High School.