Twenty-eight.
That’s the number of bodies littering the town square. At least, that’s the number I’m able to count from where I stand in the crowd with Gabriela.
She has her phone out, snapping pictures, documenting the scene. My first impulse is to grab the phone from her hand, smash it on the ground, ask her what the hell she’s thinking. But this is her job. Her purpose. The whole reason she’s here. She didn’t have to agree to let me tag along. That was her decision, and I respect the work she does.
A minute or two has passed, but it feels like an hour. It’s night now, and there aren’t that many lights around the town. The headlights of the police cars and ambulances mostly light the square. Around us women sob and murmur prayers. The few police officers are doing what they can to keep the relatives back, but many of them want to be close to their loved ones.
An old man stands near us. His shirt and pants are still fresh with blood, though it’s clearly not his blood. Gabriela asks him what happened. He doesn’t answer at first, just stares at the bodies, but then he shrugs his old shoulders. In a raspy voice he says two pickup trucks came into town during the party and men got out with guns and started shooting. The man’s voice cracks as he tells us one of the dead bodies is his granddaughter.
I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. Try to slow my heartbeat.
Beside me, Gabriela pauses in her discussion with the old man. She sucks air in between her teeth. The sharp noise catches my attention and I open my eyes and look at her.
At first I think she’s looking right back at me. But no—she’s staring past me. I glance over my shoulder, not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for, but then I see him.
Ramon is weaving through the crowd, heading our way.
I turn and look past Gabriela and see the older man, Carlos, heading our way in the opposite direction.
Which means our only way out is behind us, deeper into town.
Without hesitation, I grab Gabriela’s arm and pull her toward the fringe of the crowd. For her credit she doesn’t protest, just follows me as I step left and right, zigzagging us out of the crowd.
I spare a second to glance over my shoulder and determine that, yes, Ramon and Carlos are indeed coming for us. They’re pushing through the crowd now, not even making any attempt of discretion.
We step past the few people lingering on the outskirts of the crowd and break for the closest alleyway.
We’re halfway down the alleyway when I hear Ramon shout behind us, telling us to stop.
We’re near the end of the alleyway when I hear Ramon threaten to shoot if we don’t comply.
We turn the corner and there are two men standing in our way. They look official. Both wear masks just like Ramon. Each aims a gun at us. The Colt Commander is in the waistband of my shorts. It would take two seconds to reach for it, pull it out, but by then one of these men could easily shoot us in the narrow space.
Gabriela and I stop short. I raise my hands. Gabriela, after a stunned second, raises her hands too.
Ramon and Carlos catch up to us, Carlos breathing heavily.
The older man says, “Jesus Christ, I’m out of fucking shape.”
Ramon now has his own gun in hand. He approaches us carefully, keeping the gun aimed.
“Get up against the wall.”
I ask, “Aren’t you supposed to buy us dinner first?”
Ramon doesn’t smile. Doesn’t say anything. None of the men do.
Gabriela and I turn and place our hands against the cold brick wall.
Down at the end of the alleyway, an old woman with a cane watches us. Carlos yells at her to go away. The old woman doesn’t move for several long seconds before she shuffles out of view.
Ramon steps up behind us.
“I need to search you both.”
I say, “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. At this moment I’m under the assumption you’re armed. Is that assumption correct?”
“This is the worst vacation I’ve ever been on.”
Ramon repeats himself: “Is that assumption correct?”
“I’m going to ask my travel agent for a refund.”
I glance at Gabriela but she doesn’t seem amused. She’s staring straight at the wall, her lips moving quietly in what may be a silent prayer.
Ramon pats me down first. He finds the gun easily enough. He hands it to Carlos, then checks my front pockets. Pulls out my passport and the disposable phone and the few pesos I have left as well as the picture the prostitute outside the motel gave me.
Ramon unfolds the picture enough to glance at it in the dark alleyway.
“Who is this supposed to be?”
I say nothing.
Ramon hands the items to Carlos and then pats down Gabriela. He takes out her cell phone and her keys and some money.
“No identification. I guess that means I’ll have to ask you who you are and what you’re doing here, and I hope for your sake, you’re honest.”
Gabriela’s lips pause. She stares straight ahead at the cold brick, considering it. Before she can answer, though, I speak.
“Don’t tell him.”
Ramon says, “We’ll get to you later.”
“Why not get to me now? You have questions, I have answers.”
“As I said, we’ll get to you later. There’s more to you than we first thought.”
Carlos has set our items down on the ground. He has his gun out, pointed at us.
“Enough of this bullshit. Ramon, cuff them.”
Okay, this is definitely not heading in an ideal direction. Time to mix things up.
As Ramon grabs my left arm and starts to pull it back, I say, “Don’t.”
He pauses.
Staring at the cold brick wall, I say, “If you know what’s good for you, give us back our stuff and we’ll be on our way.”
One of the government men snorts a laugh.
“Is that a threat?”
“No, this is a threat. If you don’t give us back our stuff and let us be on our way, you all will have massive headaches in the morning.”
For a moment, nobody moves. Then Ramon continues to pull back my left arm. As the plastic zip-tie touches my skin, I twist to the left, spinning into him, and with my right fist punch him in the face.
Stunned, Ramon lets go of my arm, stumbles back. He’s still standing, though, so I wrap my left arm around his neck as I move to the right and launch myself in the air, my momentum enough to swing me around toward the two government men. My foot connects with only one of the men, right in the side of his face, but it’s enough to send him stumbling into his partner. Both feet on the ground again, I release my grip on Ramon’s neck and kick him in the back of the knees, sending him to the ground, and as he falls I somersault over him toward Carlos. Before the older man can fire off a round, I punch him once in the stomach and then push him straight back into the brick wall. The gun falls from his hand and I grab it midair, then turn and scramble to the government men who are trying to get back on their feet. I jump at the wall and use the momentum to perform a roundhouse kick at both of the men’s faces. One of the men gets knocked out. The other manages to stay upright for another moment, just long enough for me to kick him straight in the chest. Behind me, Ramon jumps to his feet and I spin, throwing another roundhouse kick in his direction. He’s expecting it, though, and ducks the kick. Before I try another kick, I remember I’m still holding a gun and aim it at Ramon.
“Get on your knees.”
He stares at me and says, “You’re not going to shoot me.”
“Do you want to test that theory?”
Ramon’s face is impassive.
“You shot those pimps outside Miguel Dominguez’s apartment building, didn’t you? We know it was you. What were you doing there?”
“Minding my own business.”
Behind me, one of the government agents grunts as he tries to rise to his feet.
I spin and throw another kick at his face. This one sends him down and out.
I turn back to Ramon who hasn’t moved.
“I said get down on your knees.”
He slowly lowers himself down to the ground.
“Now pull your gun from its holster and toss it over here.”
He pulls the gun from its holster and tosses it at my feet.
Keeping Carlos’s gun aimed at him, I crouch down and grab the gun and fling it onto the roof of the closest building. I step back and unburden the two government men of their guns and fling those up on the roof as well.
I step close to Gabriela, nudge her with my elbow.
“Get our things.”
She doesn’t move at first, and I think maybe she’s frozen with shock. But then she shakes it off and hurries over to where Carlos placed our items. She scrambles to pick up everything, but Carlos leans forward from where he is on the ground, trying to grab her. She shrieks and jumps back.
We don’t have time for this, so I step forward and whack Ramon with the butt of the gun. He falls to the ground. Just like I told the men, they’re all going to have massive headaches in the morning.
Hurrying over to Gabriela, I give Carlos a whack on the side of the head with the gun and then grab Gabriela’s arm and pull her back down the alleyway.
“My ID and passport?”
She hands them to me as well as the disposable phone.
“I didn’t have time to grab the photograph.”
I shake my head, tell her not to worry about it. The ID and passport are the most important things. Not that either gives my actual name, but less documentation in the authorities’ hands, the better.
We hurry across the street into another alleyway. The men will be giving chase in no time. We might manage to make it back to Gabriela’s car, but I’m worried about getting into a chase on the main road.
We reach the end of the alleyway and I pause, glancing back the way we came. I can see two of them farther away, just shadows in the dark.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Despite lights on inside, the houses along here all stand still and quiet. Of course they do. I would imagine everybody in town is still at the square.
I pull Gabriela toward one of the nearest houses. It’s only one story tall. There’s a way to climb up to the roof from the outside. Not quite a ladder, but enough places to grip to climb up.
As quietly as I can, I motion for Gabriela to hurry and climb up to the roof. She does it faster that I thought she would, scaling it like a pro. I stuff the gun in the waistband of my shorts and climb up after her.
On the top of the roof there’s just enough space to lie flat. I lie there with Gabriela and wait.
It doesn’t take long.
Seconds later we can hear the heavy pounding of footsteps. Then the shouting of the men’s voices as they speculate where we went. One of them—Carlos?—suggests searching the houses. The men apparently agree to this idea without question because then we hear front doors opening and closing. This goes on for several minutes, the men hastily searching each house, before a woman shouts.
“What are you doing to our homes? Get out! Get out of our homes!”
One of the government men tells the woman that they’re searching for suspects.
The woman shouts, “Suspects for the killing that occurred here tonight?”
The government man doesn’t answer.
The woman shouts, “Our town is in pain and you go through our homes? Get out! Get out! Get out!”
Other townspeople take up the chorus. They must have heard her from the square and hurried over to find out what was wrong. Soon her voice is accompanied by a half-dozen more, then a dozen more.
“Get out! Get out! Get out!”
It becomes a chant. A chant of a town which just suffered a great loss. Ramon and Carlos and the government men aren’t about to cause more grief. They relent and leave.
Minutes pass, and the townspeople below start to wander away, either back to their homes or back to the square to continue grieving. Gabriela is motionless beside me. The urge to glance over the edge of the roof, to check whether the coast is clear, is strong, but we remain where we are. We lie on our backs and stare up at the clear night sky.
Until, down on the street in front of the house, a woman speaks.
“You can come down now.”
Gabriela tenses.
I turn my head and stare back at her, urge her with my eyes to remain quiet.
The woman on the street speaks again.
“They are gone. You are safe now. You can come down.”
Is it a trick? Possibly. But after what just happened it doesn’t feel like a trick. The townspeople ran our pursuers out of town. No chance it was all a ruse. Besides, the woman who just spoke, she sounds like the woman who had started yelling in the first place. The woman who started the chant for the men to get out.
I look at Gabriela once more. She looks terrified. I take a deep breath, roll over, and raise myself just enough to peek over the edge.
The old woman with the cane stares up at me. She motions at the empty street.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”