“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
