The Long Run by Billy Wittenberg

Author:Billy Wittenberg [Wittenberg, Billy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Buffalo Bayou Publishing, LLC
Published: 2023-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 28

Chucho

Chucho chose a man named Felipe to guard the prisoners during the transfer. Unlike the other men, who hailed from impoverished homes and held little combat training, Felipe was a former Mexican paratrooper trained by the gringos. He once fought the cartels alongside the federales. Like La Doña, he had been drawn by the money and power of the cartel and switched sides. Now he held Chucho’s full confidence. But neither of them had anticipated the unexpected. The gringa had escaped and interfered. Chucho found Felipe splayed on the floor, breathing, but oblivious to the surrounding squall. Chucho dragged him under the remaining roof panels and propped him against a wall. His left eye was puffed and black. His split lips bled over his chin. Chucho grimaced. He needed Felipe’s help to track down any escaped prisoners. Had they all escaped? Or just the American? Chucho slapped him once across his good cheek. After two more, Felipe’s good eye fluttered.

“Chucho…” Felipe’s weak voice faded after recognizing his boss. His eyes closed and his body slumped against the wall.

“Goddamn Americans!” Chucho would make them pay for this. All of them. He would do it tonight. Hurricane be damned. Time to make some examples. U Buluc Chabtan, ti’ prometo. If La Doña complained about the lost ransom payments from the dead prisoners, he would tell her where to go. He stood and retrieved Felipe’s rifle. He inspected it for clogs and ammunition. As he did, he heard a distant crackle outside. A popping sound that resembled fireworks. It was hard to define through the howling winds and thunder. But it was there. And it meant one thing.

He hurried to the door—intending to race outside—when the compromised wall’s remaining blocks gave way. They leaned back, driven by the gusting wind, and collapsed in a crescendo of crumbling cement. Chucho leaped away from the tumbling door frame and roof panel. Behind him, another wall failed. Felipe still laid unconscious at the wall’s base. Chucho moved towards him, but there was no time for a rescue. Hammering winds pushed the wall inward, crushing Felipe under a pile of broken and jagged concrete. The remaining roof panels wrenched free from their fastenings and tumbled in the wind. Chucho dropped to the floor, avoiding one panel’s sharp edges as it flew over his head. A rumbling vibration in the foundation rattled his chest. He looked back as the third and fourth walls failed as well. One was falling backwards. The other towards him. He skittered away—his feet splashing and sliding on the wet floor—and clutched the rubble of the first wall. The remnants of the men’s jail house collapsed behind him as he pulled himself forward over the crumbled pile. He stood hunched over, bracing himself against the gusts and the jumbled concrete under his boots. A hard drop to the soaked earth followed. He rolled forward and popped back to his feet.

Where were they? Where did the gunfire come from? He scanned the blackness. A crack of lightning illuminated the compound.

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