A special section of the warehouse was designed for overnight stays near the exit. It was a massive room from Fetus’ perspective. It was adjacent to the office and mechanics closet where most of the tools were kept. The room was perhaps eight hundred square feet. There were several beds, a television, a sink and off to the side a toilet and the area was kept remarkably clean. This was much nicer than Fetus’s own living quarters where he shared a room a fraction of this size with five other men. This room had no immediate ceiling however; the walls were simply sheetrock and two-by-four boards that extended no more than ten feet high. From the tops of the walls it was another forty feet to the roof of the warehouse. Between the tops of the walls and the roof of the warehouse were the catwalks and the guards with their rifles. Across the room two loaders was already asleep. They had removed their shoes but not their pants or undershirts.
Leaf gestured toward a bed where Fetus eagerly plopped down and began to get undressed.
“Just remove your shoes. Keep your shirt and pants on at all times.” Leaf said.
Fetus looked at Leaf for further explanation.
“We are safe, but not as safe as we would be on the farm. It is best to be prepared.” Leaf explained, then lay down on his own bed and began to snore gently. It was just after six-thirty in the evening. The last thing Fetus heard above Leaf’s snoring from the bed next to him was a mariachi band making its way past the warehouse and down the street.
The sound of the semi’s engine brought Fetus fully awake. The adrenaline ran through him and he leapt from his bed and started making his way toward the door just as Leafs hand rested on his shoulder.
“Our visitor has arrived,” said Leaf “but he is not here to see either of us so stay out of sight.”
Fetus nodded. The lights in the warehouse were never turned off or even dimmed and Fetus had a clear line of sight to the big rig.
The driver stepped down from the cab and spoke to Alonzo, who was waiting and looking furious.
Another man got down from the passenger’s side. He had glasses and was thin. He wore a panama hat and a short-sleeved floral patterned shirt. Everything about the man screamed tourist and his every gesture and mannerism made it obvious he was nervous.
The driver started making his way toward the sleeping area and Leaf and Fetus backed away from the door.
“Looking for an empty bed” said the driver as he entered. He looked like he had recently been in a fight. He had a swollen lip, a blackened eye and was walking with a slight limp. He carried a medium size duffle bag.
Leaf gestured toward the row of empty beds.
“We have these,” Leaf said while keeping a sharp eye on the newcomer.
“Thanks.” said the driver. He then shuffled over to the nearest bed and grabbed a second pillow from the next bed over.
He sat down and Fetus couldn’t help but grin as the driver removed only his shoes. The driver then arranged his pillows so that he could sit up with his back against the wall. Once in position he just looked at Fetus and Leaf.
Leaf started to make his way back to the bed and tugged at Fetus’s shirt sleeve to follow.
The driver grabbed his duffle and began casually searching through it. Fetus watched as two red dots of laser light appeared on the driver’s chest. The driver lifted one hand in the air and very slowly withdrew a bottle of Kentucky Deluxe whiskey with his other. The lights disappeared.
“These meskins don’t fuck around, do they?” the driver asked.
Leaf turned and looked at the driver.
“No offense amigo,” said the driver offering the bottle to Leaf. “I forget my manners at times.”
“None taken gringo,” Leaf said with a grin as he took the bottle.
Both men started to laugh. Fetus didn’t fully understand what had just happened but he was suddenly feeling much more relaxed.
After a prolonged silence the driver started talking.
“So I got this college boy riding with me for five hours. Egg-head boy won’t shut up about tombs and elixirs and shit,” the driver said.
“Passengers, that’s new.” said Leaf.
“Where did you come from…?” Fetus interjected before he realized what he was asking.
Both men stopped and looked at Fetus. He flushed with embarrassment. Fetus knew questions could get you killed faster than answers but his excitement had gotten the best of him.
“Sorry…I meant…” Fetus began to stammer and then just stopped talking as he watched the floor.
When the semi had arrived Alonzo had called for the two remaining loaders. Neither was around which was lucky. Fetus knew Leaf wouldn’t tell anyone about his inquisitive nature so it was a matter of whether the driver would mention it.
Thankfully, he ignored Fetus’s indiscretion.
“It seems like the boss is searching out his roots. You should see what’s in the trailer,” the Driver said.
“Then again, perhaps we should not,” Leaf said cautiously.
“Rest assured my friend it’s nothing to fear. Just an old Aztec sarcophagus I think the boss wants to donate it to a museum or some shit,” the Driver said.
Leaf and Fetus looked at the driver with puzzled expressions. Neither knew what a sarcophagus was.
“Should be done in a few hours, then it’s back,” the driver said.
“Not an easy run?” Leaf asked
“Had a bit of a scrape at the pickup but passenger and cargo are intact,” the Driver said.
The phone rang. Because the depot was usually noisy with diesel engines the phone was wired to a PA system loud enough to be heard throughout the structure. It startled Fetus.
The phone got through half of its second ring when Alonzo picked up. They could hear him shouting and above them they could hear the sound of boots running along the catwalk.
One of the two remaining loaders came running into the sleeping area and immediately made for his bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, pulled his boots off, and started pulling on his pants. Alonzo came running in behind him with a duffle bag in one hand and a Mac-10 submachine gun dangling from his shoulder by its strap.
“Boss Soberano was attacked. He’s alive, but told us to get ready because…well, just get ready,” Alonzo said as he tossed the duffle onto Leaf’s bed. The bag wasn’t zipped and Fetus could see several handguns, extra clips of ammo, and even a few grenades.
Fetus looked at Leaf. Leaf looked at the bag, then up at the catwalk. The guards had taken up positions at the opposite ends of the warehouse. The topmost part of the warehouse was ringed with windows and the catwalk ran along all four walls. Those were the only windows in the elongated structure and the guards were watching the streets intently.
“We don’t have enough guards to keep watch,” Said Leaf.
“Yeah! I fucking know that!” shouted Alonzo.
One of the loaders was now fully dressed and making for the nearest exit.
“Where the fuck are you going?” shouted Alonzo.
“I have a family, my children…I cannot die here,” the loader said without turning around.
“If you go out that door you can’t come back,” said Alonzo.
The loader didn’t bother to respond. When he reached the door he stopped to make sure his shirt was tucked in and pulled his cap down low over his eyes. He opened the door and the noise was deafening. The rate of fire from the surrounding force was so rapid that it sounded to Fetus like one protracted explosion. Fetus saw the back of the loaders shirt blossom, and explode from a dozen exit wounds.
The loader stumbled backwards screaming until one of the exit wounds appeared at the back of his skull removing his cap. The man finally collapsed but the gunfire didn’t stop. His body writhed and convulsed as if being jolted with electricity while bullets continued to hit home. The door continued its arc until it hit the wall and began to rebound. As the door began to swing closed the gunfire increased but this time it was aimed at the door itself and its hinges. Moments later the door, bullet riddled, smoking, and hissing, was lying on top of the dead loader. Fetus heard the squeal of tires and watched as Alonzo backed up one of the smaller trucks so that the cargo area of the vehicle blocked the doorway. The gunfire stopped. No one was willing to risk destroying even an ounce of the freshly bailed marijuana.
Leaf looked at Fetus, who was standing rooted to the spot with his mouth open.
“Can I come out?” asked a voice from another part of the warehouse.
Alonzo, the guards, the remaining loader, and Leaf all turned to look for the source of the voice. Those that were armed aimed their weapons.
EggHead stepped from behind a barrel marked ‘Petrol’ with his hands up.
The guards returned to their posts and Alonzo let his sub-machine gun swing on its strap while he mopped his brow with a filthy rag he kept in his back pocket.
The driver, having emerged from behind a stack of tires, retrieved his cell phone from his pocket.
“No bars. They have a jammer. You may want to check the land-line?” the driver asked Alonzo. “You get back to work,” the driver said pointing at EggHead.
Alonzo looked perturbed but went toward the office and tried the phone. They heard him slam it down on the desk and they all knew that they were cut off from help. Alonzo returned to tell them what they already knew.
“The line’s been cut,” Alonzo said.
It was two in the morning and the streets outside were silent. There should have been people about, making noise and singing songs. There should have been the sounds of empty bottles breaking on concrete, trumpets, overtures being made and oft as not refused, but it was silent. Fetus thought back to the farm. Even during the quietest part of the night the cicadas could be heard, the owls hooted, and the bats made their odd staccato chirps as they hunted. This quiet terrified him.
The truck blocking the door now sat at an odd angle with one of its rear tires partially resting on the newly perforated door that lay on top of the loader. The bullet-riddled door’s weight was forcing the loaders wounds open even further as the vehicle yielded to gravity.
Everyone but EggHead sat and waited on their beds in the sleeping area. No one could sleep and no one bothered to speak. The half-full bottle of vodka sat unmolested as everyone wanted to keep their wits about them.
“Yes!” came a shout from the main loading area.
The driver, followed by Alonzo, Leaf and Fetus, got up and went to see what the EggHead passenger was shouting about.
He was standing over a makeshift table made out of a sheet of plywood supported by two Petrol barrels. He was grinning like an idiot and holding up a tattered piece of paper so that the big over-head lights shown through it.
“What the fuck are you yelling about?” shouted Alonzo.
“I found what Mr. Soberano is looking for! Do you know what this means?!” EggHead asked almost hysterically.
“No.” Alonzo said growing slightly impatient.
“It’s…” Egghead stopped mid-sentence and looked around. He was fully registering the situation for the first time. He scanned the room. He paused when he came to the off kilter truck and the partially flattened body of the dead loader. He looked up to see both of the guards’ implacable expressions. He turned to see Fetus swaying slightly on his feet, the driver and Leaf on either side of him, both armed.
“We’re not getting out of here are we?” EggHead asked.