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
