La Miserias sits about a mile north from Fernando Sanchez Morales’s house. It’s just past three o’clock in the morning when we pass the town on the main road. I glance at the town as we pass, see that it’s dark and quiet, and issue a quiet sigh of relief.
Nova doesn’t bother glancing at the town. He has no connection to it. He leans heavily on the accelerator, the car’s small engine doing everything it can to keep up.
After all this driving, after all this time, we’re almost to our destination, but maybe it won’t matter. Maybe the Devil will have struck by now, or maybe the Devil won’t strike at all. The priest said Alejandro was wounded, that he may not have much time left, and so maybe he’s already been taken out of the game, bled out in some room where his body won’t be found for days.
Headlights splash us, bringing me up out of my thoughts.
By the look of it, three vehicles are coming our way. It’s not an uncommon thing—we’ve passed a lot of traffic on our way here—but it’s the way they’re tightly grouped together that raises a red flag. I keep an eye on the three approaching vehicles until they’re close enough to make out.
At the front of the pack is an SUV, followed up by two pickup trucks.
The backs of the pickup trucks are full of men with guns.
Because of both of our speeds, I see all of it in a flash, but it’s enough to send a tinge of dread through my body.
I twist in my seat and watch out the rear window at the receding taillights. Just as they approach La Miserias, each of the taillights starts to glow an angry red.
“Turn around.”
“What?”
“Turn around! Those were narcos, Nova. They’re going to attack the town again.”
Without any further prompting, Nova slams on the brakes and twists the wheel, pulling up on the emergency brake as he maneuvers a quick one-eighty.
I pull out the Glock. It’s fully loaded, but I check the magazine anyway. Fifteen bullets.
Nova says, “We got any extra firepower?”
“Nope.”
“What about extra ammo?”
“Nope.”
“Goddamn it, Holly.”
“What do you want to me to say, Nova? I wanted to make sure the town had as many weapons as possible in case this happened.”
We’re almost to the town now, the car doing nearly seventy miles per hour.
“Kill the headlights when you pull in. Maybe we can mow some of them down with the car, take their weapons. They should be carrying Kalashnikovs. That enough firepower for you?”
Nova says, “I guess we’ll see.”
He makes the turn and kills the headlights as we tear down the unpaved road toward the center of town.
Even without the headlights, we can see the three vehicles ahead of us because they still have on their lights. All of them have stopped, and the narcos have jumped down from the truck beds.
One of lookouts on the roof blares an air horn while another starts firing down at the narcos.
Because the narcos don’t give a shit about being careful, they open fire wildly, spraying the closest homes, shattering windows and tearing through walls.
A pair of narcos is closest to us. Their focus is on shooting at the houses so they don’t hear the car until it’s too late. Nova runs right over them and then slams on the brakes. I have my door open and am jumping out before the car can even make a complete stop.
I go for headshots and manage to drop three of them before other narcos turn and start firing back at me. I dive behind the car to take cover. Nova has gotten out of the car, too, and he’s grabbed one of the fallen narco’s rifles. He’s taken cover behind a wall and waits for a lull in gunfire before stepping out and letting loose.
The lookout on the roof has given up with the air horn. The only noise filling the night is gunfire.
The townspeople have joined the fight, but they’re only half awake and many of them have already been shot and killed. Bodies have started piling up.
When Nova exhausts the rifle’s magazine, he takes cover with me behind the car.
“This isn’t the Mexican experience I had envisioned it would be.”
“How so?”
“I was hoping for tequila and women and dancing.”
“You don’t strike me much as a dancer.”
“I’ve got moves.”
Now that we’ve taken cover, the narcos have become more emboldened. They keep firing at the car.
I tilt my chin toward the closest rooftop.
“Think you can get up there?”
“Of course. I told you I’ve got moves.”
“I’ll draw their fire.”
“One problem, Holly.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m empty.”
“Yeah, that is a problem.”
I duck down and check underneath the car. The second narco we’d run over is there. So is his rifle.
Leaning back, I say, “Okay, here’s the plan.”
The approaching narcos don’t let up. The car is being destroyed. Soon we won’t have much cover left.
Nova says, “It better be good.”
I tell him quick, and he nods, and then I dive down under the car and crawl forward and grab the rifle and aim at the approaching narcos. I open up, my bullets tearing into their feet and legs, and as the narcos fall, Nova jumps up from his position and charges the closest narco, grabbing his rifle and then mowing down the rest of the men.
He shouts, “Clear!”
I crawl out from under the car and take in the scene. At least six fallen narcos, some of which are still alive. Nova moves forward and shoots them each in the head, and then bends down to grab more rifles and ammunition. Without a word, he tosses me a rifle as well as a fresh magazine, and then he turns and disappears around the corner in search of higher elevation.
Throughout town scattered gunfire continues. I hear women screaming and children crying and men shouting.
I hurry behind one of the houses to come around the action from another side. As I do new gunfire starts up in the cacophony, a more controlled pop … pop … pop, and I know Nova has already made it up onto a rooftop and is picking off narcos.
I race through town, passing by many dead bodies. There are a lot of narcos, but there are even more townspeople. I take out as many narcos as I can, hiding behind walls or other cars for cover. At one point I see Nova off in the distance, jumping from house to house to get in better position. Eventually he’ll run out of ammunition, just like me, but for now we need to do whatever it takes to protect the town.
And then I turn the corner and see him.
Fernando Sanchez Morales.
He’s standing over an old man, a gun in his hand, and he actually laughs when he shoots the old man in the head.
The old man, I realize a second later, is Antonio.
I start down the road toward Morales who still has his back to me, the gun held loosely at his side, like this is all just a game.
As I approach, I shoulder the rifle and slip a switchblade from my pocket.
Morales still hasn’t noticed me. He’s focused toward the center of town. Where all the dead bodies lie.
He pauses when I’m ten feet away, and starts to turn in my direction.
I throw the knife at his stomach.
The blade hits him dead center as he turns. His eyes go wide for a second, and then he starts to reach for the knife to pull it out.
Now that I’m five feet away from him, I drop my shoulder to loosen the rifle, and as it falls, I grab the barrel and use the rifle as a bat, swinging it back over my shoulder and then smashing the butt against the side of Morales’s face.
He goes down hard.
I step over him and survey the town square. The only movement I see is townspeople. The gunfire has started to die down in the past minute, becoming sporadic, and I realize the last shot I heard was from the rooftop, Nova taking out what might have been the last narco.
Behind me, Morales says, “You bitch.”
I turn back to the man.
He’s on the ground with a hand on the knife, but it’s clear he isn’t sure whether or not he should pull it out. His own gun lies only a few feet away, but he barely seems to care.
I walk back to the man and crouch down.
“Want me to take this out?”
I grab the knife and slide it out of his stomach.
He gasps.
I say, “Nah, you should probably keep it where it is.”
I stab him in the same spot.
This time he cries out.
I’m aware of people approaching us—the remaining townspeople—but I keep my focus on Morales.
“I told you not to come back here.”
His face is a mixture of pain and rage.
“Fuck you.”
“Your men are dead.”
He grins and says, “So is half of this town.”
I nod, listening to the townspeople approaching. Some of them are sobbing, but many of them are quiet.
Morales says, “Are you going to kill me?”
I start to shake my head, but before I can answer, something explodes off in the distance.
I jump to my feet and look up at the house on the hill. A small plume of flames is visible.
I crouch back down in front of the Morales.
“Did you hear that? That’s probably the Devil. He’s finally come for your family. Just as you knew he would.”
Morales grimaces at the pain but says nothing.
“He knows you were the one who came up with the plan. That’s why he waited to come for your family last.”
This causes Morales to frown.
“How … how do you know this?”
“I know everything.”
Down at the end of the street a vehicle screeches to a halt.
I stand up briefly, reaching for the rifle, but pause when I realize it’s Nova in the SUV.
I raise a finger for him to wait a moment and then crouch back down in front of Morales.
“You asked if I’m going to kill you? I’m not going to kill you. You and your men didn’t attack my town. You didn’t kill my people.”
I jerk my thumb back at the crowd behind me.
“You attacked their town. You killed their people. They’re the ones who will get to decide what to do with you. And something tells me it’s not going to be pleasant.”
I start to stand back up when Morales grabs my arm. His face is suddenly full of fear. Not for him, I realize, but for his family.
He says, “Will you save them?”
I pull my arm from his grip.
“Yes. But not for you.”
Before Morales can say anything else, I turn and start through the crowd toward Nova. I only pause when I see Yolanda leaning on her cane. Her face is filled with so much pain and sorrow that it nearly breaks me. We stare at each for just a moment, and then I hurry past her and climb into the SUV.
Nova says, “Time to dance with the devil.”
He throws the SUV in gear and punches the gas.