Blood of the Sons: A Mafia Crime Thriller by Vincent B Davis II

Author:Vincent B Davis II [Davis II, Vincent B]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-30T04:00:00+00:00

Near North Side, Chicago- August 22, 1926

The fever dreams always took him back to the war. He saw Franklin’s head explode, Mckenzie and Flaherty as they were lowered into ditches. He saw himself being shot and engulfed by German bayonets.

When he first woke up, he thought he was still in France, the medics patching him up before returning him to the trenches. After a few moments, recent events flooded back to him. There were hand-picked dandelions withering in a vase of water on the nightstand beside his hospital bed. A picture of their family the previous Easter leaned up against it.

“Good morning,” a nurse said beside the bed.

She startled him at first, but he calmed as he saw the innocent look in her eyes. His voice hoarse, he said, “Good morning.”

The nurse checked his vitals, as he attempted to recall how he ended up there.

He traced back the memories and tried to sift through mostly fever dreams. Then it flooded back. Standing outside of the Holy Name church with Hymie Weiss and Johnny boy. The black car and the volley of bullets.

The pain in his leg reminded him of the shot that sent him to the concrete. He remembered Hymie Weiss standing on wobbly legs with a chest full of bullet holes, and his brother Johnny on the ground clutching a wound in his belly.

“Nurse, nurse,” he said, panicking.

“What is it?” She leaned closer to him.

“My brother. My brother, is he okay? Where is he?”

“The man they brought you in here with?” she asked. She was young, barely old enough to drive.

“Yeah, maybe. I was with two fellas.”

Her face saddened, and she placed a hand on his chest.

“One of them died before we could get him to the hospital. His name was Henry Earl… something, something Polish. I couldn’t pronounce it.”

“Yeah, yeah, what about the other guy?”

“They transported him to a special surgeon.”

“So, he’s alive.” Sebastiano laid his head back on the pillow and sighed.

“And you’ll recover too.”

“What do you mean?”

“The doctors think you’ll be able to walk again.”

“There’s a chance I might not walk again?” Sebastiano sprung up in bed. The irony of surviving unscathed through numerous firefights in France, only to be paralyzed trying to attend Mass in Chicago was palpable.

“Like I said, the doctors think you’ll be able to. That bullet shattered your femur though. It was awful.” She shook her head. “We have the best surgeons in Chicago. They did a great job of removing the bullet and repaired your leg as best they could.”

“The surgeons are good enough for me, but not for my brother?”

She looked down and frowned. “He needed a someone who specialized in repairing stomach tissue and intestinal lining. They sent him all the way to Vanderbilt, in Tennessee.”

She meant to sound encouraging, but it didn’t work. As he remained silent, she leaned in closer. She batted her eye lids and pursed her lips.

“The newspapers said you all work for Al Capone. Is that true?” she asked.

Just another innocent, foolish girl. “Something like that,” he said, and rolled over to make it clear he didn’t want to talk anymore.

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