'I guess. Anyway, we were caught between these two groups of goddamn saviors of the poor.' He sighed. 'They were shooting—most of them firing into the air at first—and waving torches More fire We couldn't do anything but run back in through the gate.
''Everything was crazy. Ben and Greg were crying. People were running everywhere. All the houses were burning. Then someone shot me. I was knocked down, stunned. At first I didn't understand what had hit me. Then I felt this unbelievable pain. I must have dropped Greg. I tried to look around for him. That's when I understood that I was down on the sidewalk. I felt slammed down, stomped, plus stabbed through the right shoulder and arm by a hot poker. I never knew who shot me or why. We didn't have guns. I guess they just shot us for fun.
'Then I saw Mama get shot The truth is, it all happened so fast—first me, then her, bang, bang. I know that But at the time 1 remember seeing it all, taking it all in as though I had plenty of time. And yet I was desperate to get out of there, and scared to death. Jesus God, there's no way I can make you know how bad it was.
'I saw Mama stagger and collapse She made a horrible noise, and I saw blood pouring from her neck. I knew then that... she... that she was dying. I knew it
'I tried to get up, tried to make myself go to her. But while I was struggling to stand, a green-painted woman ran up and shot her through the head.
'I slipped in my own blood and fell back. From the ground, I saw a red guy shoot Ben twice through the head, then step over him and shoot Greg. I saw him. I was yelling. The red guy had an automatic rifle—an old AK-47. He shot Ben while Ben was trying to get up. Ben's head... just... broke apart.
'But Greg was down on the sidewalk—moving, but down. When the guy shot him, the bullets must have ricocheted off the concrete. They hit another paint in the legs. He screamed and fell down. That made all the paints nearby mad. It was like they thought we had shot their man—like his being wounded was our fault. They grabbed all four of us and dragged us over to the Balter house. It was burning, and they threw us into the fire.
'They did that They threw us into the fire. I was the only one who was conscious. I was maybe the only one alive, but I couldn't stop them. Somehow, though, once they threw me in, I got up and ran out. I just ran, panicked out of my mind, blind with smoke and pain, not human anymore. I should have died.
'Later, I wished I had died. Later, all I wanted to do was die.'
Marcus stopped and sat silent for several seconds.
'Someone must have helped you,' I said when I thought the silence had gone on long enough. 'You were only 14.'
'I was only 14,' he agreed. After another silence, he went on. 'I think I must have fallen down in the Balter yard. I was on fire. I didn't think about rolling on the ground to put the fire out, but I must have done it. I was just scrambling around in panic and pain, and the fire did go off. Then all I could do was lie there. I must have passed out at some point. When I woke up—I have a clear memory of this—I was on a big wooden wagon on top of a lot of scorched clothes and some pots and pans and junk. I could see the sidewalk passing under me—broken concrete, weeds growing in the holes and cracks, and I could see the backs of a man and woman walking ahead, leaning forward, pulling the wagon with rope harnesses. Then I passed out again.
'A pair of scavengers, picking over the bones of our neighborhood had found me groaning—although I don't remember groaning or being found—and they had loaded me onto their salvage wagon. They were a middle-aged couple named Duran, believe it or not. Maybe they were distant relatives or something. It's a pretty common name, though.'
I nodded. Not unusual at all, but the only Duran I happened to know was my stepmother. Duran was her maiden name. Well, if these Durans had saved my brother's life five years ago when he couldn't have lived without their help, I was more than willing to be related to them.
'They had had an 11-year old daughter kidnapped from them the year before they found me,' Marcus said. 'They never found her, never found out what happened to her, but I can guess. You could sell a pretty little girl for a lot then. Just like now. I've heard people say things are getting better. Maybe so, but I haven't noticed. Anyway, the Durans were handsome people. Their daughter could have been really pretty.'
He sighed. 'The kid's name was Caridad. They said I looked enough like her to be her brother. The woman said that. Inez was her name. She was the one who insisted on collecting what was left of me and taking it home to nurse back to health.
'I'm surprised I even looked human when she found me. My face wasn't too bad—blood and bruises from falling down a few times. But the rest of me was a hell of a mess.
'There was no way these people could afford a
