Deadly Hearts: A Post Apocalyptic Romance Novel

by Priscila Santa Rosa

  “All right. I don’t think there’s internal bleeding. I’ll have to take care of your cut lip and the burn back at the clinic. I didn’t bring any supplies with me. Sorry.”

  I blink at his apology. After what I did and our last conversation, it seems ridiculous he would need to feel sorry for anything, much less this.

  “I’m fine now. Thank you, Liam. For coming. You didn’t have to,” I murmur.

  “Of course I did. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t have.”

  “You were right to be angry.”

  He shrugs. “Maybe, but I don’t want to be mad anymore.”

  His words bring some much-needed relief, lifting a little of the weight of the guilt I was carrying. Somehow, I feel like he has forgiven me or at least started to.

  “Doctor, I want to talk to Isabel alone.”

  I jump at Diego’s voice, happy to hear it but also afraid of his dry tone and what it might mean. Something has changed.

  Liam gently squeezes my hand and offers me a smile. “I’ll be right outside.”

  Does he think I’m afraid of Diego? I simply nod.

  As Liam leaves, my heart starts beating fast. I awkwardly hug myself, feeling as vulnerable as I felt in that dark room. I left him behind, lied to him, and almost put Alex in danger. He did say he would understand my choices, but pretty words mean very little. Will he trust me again? Have I ruined what we had just like I did with Liam?

  Diego paces for a few seconds before breaking the silence. He turns around, and we finally face each other.

  “I … This …” He stops talking, sighs, and then tries again, “I took over leadership of this gang. Ezequiel is dead. He won’t hurt you again.”

  The information doesn’t sink in immediately. I stay silent, trying to understand how that would’ve happened and what it means. Not just for me, but for Bonita.

  “He … I knew him. He was El Loro’s cousin—my former cartel boss. He’s also the one who sent the letter.”

  “The letter?”

  “The letter I told you Alex sent … but I …”

  His hesitancy is more frightening than the threats Ezequiel threw at me earlier. The Diego I know always says the right thing at the right moment. I wait for him to make sense.

  “It was a stupid lie. I suppose I wanted to appear more heroic to you. When, in fact, I was being blackmailed. Ezequiel wanted the cartel to supply him with weapons so he could overthrow General Ortiz. Alex for the guns. That was the deal he proposed to me.” He shakes his head with quiet fury. “I hated it. It made me feel weak. Like I couldn’t protect my family. So I rushed into this risky, crazy plan, not caring if it would place Alex and, later you, in danger.”

  “Diego … You saved me. I don’t care about any of that.”

  “The thought of you being hurt and being too far away to stop it …” He takes a deep breath. “I was out of my mind. I wanted to kill that guy so badly for what he did to you and Alex. I have never felt so much rage toward anyone. Even with all I’ve been through.”

  “Lots of people wanted to kill him. It was justified. You don’t have to feel bad about it.”

  He finally looks me directly in the eyes. His own are full of regret. “But I do. Because I did this to you. I bribed you to come back to this island. I abandoned Ana and my men back in the jungle because I was paranoid. I let myself get shot by my crazy brother… And because of all that, you got hurt. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  I smile. “Not good, I assume.”

  He shakes his head, still not in the mood for teasing. “I don’t usually feel bad about what I do, Isabel. I know I tried to convince you I’m a good guy. But the truth is I don’t think bloodshed is very good for business. That’s the only reason why I tried to stop it. The profits were down and the law was on my ass. Retreat was a good plan. I’m ruthless like that.”

  “A ruthless man would’ve abandoned his son. You love Alex. You risked everything to save him.”

  Diego ruffles his hair, licking his lips in frustration. “Yes, I love my son, but … as we crossed the jungle, I kept … I thought maybe I was rushing into a crazy plan, not because of love. But pride. And yet, I kept lying to you. Playing the regretful father. And you believed it. You believed so much you went on a suicide mission by yourself to help him. For me.”

  I should feel angry at being manipulated, but strangely enough, I find his reasoning endearing more than anything. For the first time since we’ve met, I know Diego’s feelings better than he does. If pride were truly the driving force for rescuing Alex, he wouldn’t have questioned his motives that much. People like Ezequiel don’t lose any sleep over their actions. They don’t bother analyzing the reasons why they enjoy torturing and abusing others.

  “Yes, I did it for you, but for him too. And for my mother. You’re feeling guilty. And maybe that’s a new emotion for you. I understand, but I really don’t care. All I care is that you are here and the nightmare is over.”

  He steps forward. We are at arm’s length now. He takes my hand and places it above his heart. “You say this is guilt. I don’t think so. It’s deeper than that. Isabel, I—”

  I shake my head. I’m not ready for those words yet. “Don’t say it. You don’t have to say it. Just hug me.”

  He does. He’s recovering from a gunshot, and I’m hurting everywhere. But none of that matters as we hold each other and the whole world around us disappears. He plants soft kisses on my neck and I close my eyes, breathing in this feeling of being safe. Of being wanted and protected.

  “Thank you for saving me,” I whisper in his ear.

  “The doctor helped.”

  “Of course he did. He saves everyone. You saved me.”

  Diego pulls back. I don’t shy away from the intensity of his gaze. After carrying so much fear for so long, my heart is lighter. I came back to Bonita, and I survived. We both did. I feel like I’ve been underwater, struggling to breathe all this time and have finally emerged to the surface, welcoming the fresh air into my lungs.

  “You did your share of saving me too,” Diego finally says, a small smile on his lips.

  “Yes, but you took over a gang for me. That’s on another level entirely. Also, how did you do it?”

  He slides his arms under mine and holds me by the waist. “My reputation comes with a few perks. Once I knew Ezequiel’s gang consisted of ex-cons, I was sure they would fall in line. They know who I am, and what I can offer. Not sure how long it will take for one to get brave and try to challenge me, but I don’t plan to stick around to actually rule this little kingdom.”

  “Who will, then? As much as I want to leave…” I sigh. “I have a debt to pay to Liam and this island.”

  That man, as horrible as he was, was a constant among the chaos. A power vacuum can be as dangerous as a psychotic ruler.

  “I made a deal with the doc. I promised him supplies, free of charge. I’m going to clear the tunnels of the infected and set up a smuggling route. Your friend will have anything he needs.”

  I frown at his plan. “Clear the tunnels? Do you mean to kill all the infected? They’re still people. I do it when I have to but…”

  “I know. I’ll sort this out too. But not here, not now. My priority is getting Alex and you off this island. Once we’re back at Punta Franca, I promise I’ll come up with an incredible plan that will make you happy.”

  The notion that we might safely go back to the town finally sinks in. I’m a step closer to getting my family back.

  “My mother will be cured, won’t she?” I whisper. “Once we go back.”

  Diego leans down. Our foreheads touch.

  “She will, yeah,” he whispers back.

  In a few days, my mother might be cured. I blink as pure excitement allows me a genuine smile. I had almost forgotten how wonderful that feeling can be. The discomfort of my injuries disappears. All that is left is joy.

  I tilt my head and find his lips with my own, ignoring the sting from my cut lower lip
. It’s a quiet kiss, but this gentle brush carries a new certainty: I’m safe. I can trust him. We survived together.

  There’s no desperate rush to prove a point, no edge of tension or doubt. I’m free.

  When we break apart, silence lingers. We smile at each other without really needing to say anything else. It’s a strange sensation, but pleasant too. I don’t think I have ever experienced tranquility like this.

  Finally, Diego lets out a sigh.

  “As much I want to stay right here with you in my arms, I need to talk to a group of tough guys and sound very menacing while being inspiring. It’s a tough act, and every second I stay with you, it’s one more second that will take for me to wear that mask again.”

  He doesn’t even try to hide the regret in his voice. While he has mentioned the burdens of being the leader of the cartel before, this is the first time I truly believe he’s tired of it. It’s the first time I abandon the suspicions that kept me from seeing him as he is.

  “You could just walk away from the cartel. From Punta Franca.” I hold his face, searching his eyes for his true desire. “I’m sure Ana Cruz will be more than happy to take over.”

  He frowns. “Is that what you want me to do? To give up everything and hide in the jungle?”

  It would be safer, I want to say. No more violence, no more fighting to stay alive. Yet, I shake my head.

  “No.” I caress his cheek with my thumb. “I’m asking if that’s what you want.”

  “Maybe someday. After making a good deal.”

  “A deal?”

  “Drug lords, cartel criminals … either they end up in an early grave, in prison for life, or they make a good deal. One that guarantees a safe, dignified retirement. But I still have things I want to do before that day comes.”

  I nod, a little disappointed. Power is hard to give up, especially when you spend most of your life struggling to have it in the first place.

  We break apart and leave the room. Liam is still dutifully waiting outside. Our eyes meet, and I give him a reassuring nod. He shoots me a half-hearted smile, shoulders relaxing.

  One of Ezequiel’s men—no—one of Diego’s men finds us and quickly takes him into a large common room where about thirty men and women wait for their new leader’s speech. Liam and I stay out of the spotlight, preferring to wait just outside the doors. The mood of the room is tense, but the ones with a rifle are standing next to Diego when he climbs on a table to address the crowd. He has the support of the upper levels already.

  “I’m sure you are all aware that Ezequiel is dead.” The crowd starts murmuring, but Diego continues, loud and clear. “What you might not know yet is that Ezequiel has never been your real leader. Whatever power you thought Zeke had. Whatever luxuries and protection you believed he gave you, nothing came from him. Either he had to beg the Army for it or it was freely given from the Rio Alto cartel. From me, Diego Vargas.”

  Again, the crowd stirs. Diego lets the information settle in their minds before speaking again.

  “For too long, Bonita has been in the grip of unworthy people. From General Ortiz to Zeke, this place is barely surviving. You deserve more. And I plan to give you more. The Army that controls Bonita will be defeated. The infected will be dealt with. If… and only if, you give your loyalty.”

  The crowd cheers. I smile as they start shouting his name.

  “He has a good way with words,” Liam says, bringing my attention back to him. “But I don’t think this will work.”

  “It only has to work until we leave Bonita.”

  Liam stiffens. “Right. Then another Ezequiel will be free to take the throne.”

  At his angry reaction, I pull him out of the room so we can talk properly. Diego’s voice becomes muffled as he lists new rules for this place.

  “Liam, I promise you I won’t abandon you again. I’ll find a way to help Bonita, but first I need to help my mother.”

  “Help her how? Unless there’s a way to cure her, I don’t see what you can do.” He widens his eyes as I stare at him with a tinge of guilt. “Are … Did you … Is there a way to cure her?”

  “Yes. Diego has it.”

  Liam blinks multiple times, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. “I … How?”

  “Someone developed it, and Diego bought one vial from some Americans. It’s out there, Liam. The cure is out there.”

  He laughs loudly while shaking his head. “Is it real? Honestly real?”

  I smile at his enthusiasm. “Yes. It is.”

  He pulls me into a bear hug, almost lifting me in the air. I flinch at the gesture, my body still sore, but I don’t complain. Liam was the one who gave me hope that someday this would be possible. I’m glad to be the person who rekindles the hope he seemed to have lost.

  The happiness is short-lived. He lets go of me and rubs his chin, gaze going back and forth.

  “But will it ever be here, Bel? Will it reach Guavina before we all kill each other? I’m happy for you, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’ll save your mother. But what about everyone else?”

  I have no answer for him.

  Diego leaves two men in charge of the base with the promise of contacting them soon, and then we head back for the clinic. Liam is greeted by a surprisingly tight hug from the usually cold Isidor and Alex runs toward his father, almost tripping on his way to us.

  Standing by myself, I watch Diego kneel and let himself be grabbed by the neck. A normal kid his age would probably have been too embarrassed to show affection in public, but here, in this awful place, even Alex knows how important these little moments are and how fleeting they can be.

  It doesn’t take long until Diego is attracting curious looks from a few patients. In the hours we spend resting and preparing for the journey back, the news of Zeke’s death finds its way here. This brings some joy to the sick but also apprehension for what’s going to happen next. Ezequiel was a constant in their lives for so long, any change comes with fear.

  Liam gives me a balm for the burn on my right shoulder, and Isidor changes Diego’s bandages—his stitches held and the wound is slowly improving. They have no food to spare for our journey back, but I manage to fill five plastic bottles with rain from an afternoon thunderstorm. And thanks to Diego’s new position and access to Zeke’s personal supplies, we’re also bringing three flashlights, plenty of first aid supplies, and two machetes.

  Once everything is set, we step out of the clinic.

  Saying goodbye to Liam is no easy task. For six months, I had panic attacks every time I thought of him and this island, and now, I’m leaving him behind again. Although I plan on coming back to help, this might be the last time we see each other.

  Perhaps sensing I need privacy, Diego takes Alex away to give us a moment to talk. At first, we just avoid each other’s eyes, awkwardness lingering now that we’re relatively safe. With every angry word and sad plea over with, what’s left is the notion we used to be together but because of my choices, that ended abruptly. We had no closure to our short, but meaningful relationship.

  “You know, I made a deal with Diego,” Liam breaks the silence while looking at the ceiling. “I don’t trust him, but I do trust you. I would really appreciate if you made sure he keeps his word.”

  Despite wanting to defend Diego’s honor, Liam’s words are more teasing than anything, so I merely nod. “I’ll remind him of that. Constantly.”

  I risk a smile, and receive one back.

  “Thank you.”

  Feeling braver, I say, “Liam, I want you to know … I care a lot about you. What we had together meant the world to me then. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

  He looks at me, and then touches the back of his neck. “It’s okay. It meant a lot to me too. But I realize now that we … we see the world too differently. Even if you had stayed, the end would’ve been the same, I think.”

  “Perhaps,” I whisper, a nugget of regret still rooted deep i
n my heart. I think I will always wonder what would’ve been if I tried to be the person he saw in me.

  “Hey, we’re good, okay? No hard feelings. No guilt. No anger. No whining. No resentment.”

  “Friends?”

  “Friends.”

  He offers his hand. Instead, I pull him into a hug and whisper, “The next time we see each other, it’s going to be the end of this island, I promise you.”

  He hugs me back. After a second, he says, “I’ll look forward to that day.”

  I join Diego and Alex, and we walk to the mine entrance. I stare at the elevator that will bring us down to the dark tunnels again, and I sigh with relief. In a few hours, I’ll be far from Bonita. Despite having fewer supplies than when we started off on our mission, I feel more confident of our survival than I ever did back at Punta Franca. To me, the worst has passed. My heart is light, and there’s no fear lurking inside my chest. Caution, yes, but no panic.

  Although scared, Alex proves himself to be a survivor like his father. Our trip through the darkness of the mine is slow and careful, fraught with tension, but Alex doesn’t scream, doesn’t even let out a whimper once an infected wanders close to our position and we turn off our lights so not to attract more.

  I cut the infected’s throat as quietly as I can, gently laying his body on the ground once he drowns on his own blood. We wait, surrounded by complete darkness, until I’m sure there aren’t others close by.

  When I turn my flashlight on again, Alex winces at the sight of the body as his father pats him on the shoulder. His eyes are fixed on the man’s disfigured face.

  “Is it dead?” he mutters.

  “Yes,” I say. “We’re safe now.”

  Alex nods. We move on, but he keeps looking at the path behind us, perhaps afraid the infected would come back to life again.

  As impressive as it is for Alex to be this strong, I can’t help but worry that the walls he built to survive are hiding a lot pain and trauma. I’ve been out for six months, and the looming feeling of dread has never left me entirely.

  Hours later, we emerge from the undersea tunnel and finally reach the mainland. The jungle is a welcome sight after three days of the claustrophobic Bonita and its stench. I welcome the rain and mud like an old friend.