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I don’t see Max. . .
A solitary foot, charred and dismembered, lay on the path in front of us.
Kaz stepped over it and guided me along.
My eyes watered and I didn’t know if it was due to smoke or sadness.
He got out. I have to believe he got out.
Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of more intruders pierced the smoky haze, and they were definitely coming from the front. Through the dim light and the thick, choking smoke that filled the air, figures emerged like phantoms.
Fuck. Fuck.
Right on instinct, we both shifted our walking to this odd, slow duck-walking as we did our best to stay low and hidden.
Kaz whispered, “You see them too?”
“Yes. At least ten.” I spotted most wearing black masks and squinted to get a clearer view. They reminded me of the sort of face paint from the Day of the Dead—elaborate skulls and colorful floral designs.
Kaz and I ducked even lower, moving within the shadows and aiming our guns in their direction.
More entered.
Jesus Christ.
It wouldn’t make any damn sense to shoot at them now. There was at least twenty to thirty men now.
Fear clawed at my chest.
Kaz tensed beside me, his body coiling like a spring, ready to leap into action. His grip on my hand tightened even further.
He positioned us behind a partially overturned table, its surface scarred and burnt. “Hold on.”
The men spoke to each other in Spanish, yelling out commands here and there. A good bit of them nodded and rushed toward the hallway where we had just left.
Kaz was right. Glad he got us out of there.
More Spanish commands were shouted out, and then the group divided again. Some went behind the bar and shot. A man screamed in pain.
Yep. They’re searching for survivors to kill them.
With his free hand, Kaz signaled for us to move. “Continue to stay low.”
We zigzagged through the debris-laden floor.
Smoke swirled around us, tendrils reaching out to grasp our legs.
Thank God everyone’s visibility—theirs and ours—was reduced to mere shadows and silhouettes. Either way, trying to get out of there was still a gamble.
The masked men prowled around and shot at bodies.
My heart pumped out a morbid rhythm in my ears.
The path to the bathrooms seemed like an eternity away.
We ducked behind another overturned table.
The sound of our own breaths became indistinguishable from the soft whispers of flames consuming the club.
