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.
