Chapter 23 #2
She raked the nails of her free hand across Perla’s face, and her aunt hollered. Inés’s fingers hurt with the effort of holding on, but she shoved Perla until her back hit the side of the desk. Perla yelped in pain and finally relinquished her grip on the weapon, which fell to the ground.
At the same time, Perla managed to clutch the glass she’d been drinking from, and she smashed it against Inés’s temple.
A piercing, blinding pain made Inés gasp and stumble back.
Blood gushed down her face as she landed against the door, felt the doorjamb against her back, and fumblingly managed to pull it open.
The dog was in a frenzy, barking and jumping excitedly.
As Inés stumbled into the hallway, a shot rang through the house and a bullet bit her body.
Inés gasped. She was almost grateful for the pain of the glass cuts on her temple because she could not concentrate and determine which wound hurt the most.
Her aunt stepped behind her, raised the gun again, but before she could shoot Inés kicked her in the leg. Perla screamed. Another gunshot went off, but this bullet hit the wall behind Inés.
Inés sprinted away, toward the stairs, and almost crashed into Ulises, who emerged into the hallway, looking startled.
“Run,” she told him, and he had the good sense not to ask any questions as they rushed toward the staircase.
They had practically reached the bottom of the stairs when Inés’s knees buckled under her weight and Ulises caught her, scooping her up like a bride upon the threshold and carrying her the last two steps.
“Criminals!” Perla yelled. “Thieves!”
She was at the top of the staircase, the gun still in her hands.
She waved the weapon in the air and hurried down the stairs, but the dog ran past her, barking madly, and Perla lost her balance.
For a split second she attempted to clutch the banister, but it was a futile motion, and then she was rolling over and over until her body hit the ground with a sickening thud.
It was déjà vu, as if that terrible memory of her childhood had been granted fresh new life, and Inés thought she’d retch at the sight of Perla lying with her eyes closed at the bottom of the stairs.
Ulises and Inés stared at the woman, but for the briefest moment, then he was running, still carrying Inés in his arms, until they reached the car. She slid into the passenger seat and winced. The dog ran behind them and barked.
“Let it in.”
“For God’s sake—”
“Let the dog in,” she ordered.
He opened the door and Diógenes settled on the back seat of the car. Ulises took off his jacket and shoved it into her hands.
“You need to press this hard against the wound. It’ll be a short ride, keep pressing.”
“Where are we going?”
He turned the key and the car rumbled to life. “Next town over, where someone can patch you up. We can’t stay here.”
Inés rubbed her free hand against her temple and wiped the blood staining the side of her face. “And after that?”
“North, to Monterrey. Or Mexico City. Anywhere we choose.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why bother coming back?”
“Maybe it’s easier when it’s a team. I never did well on my own, but I knew how to handle an act for two back when my father was still alive. I can teach you the ropes.”
“The ropes of what? Postal scams?”
“Lonely hearts games.”
“As if you had anything to teach, you’re a loser and a liar.”
“I’m a prince from The Arabian Nights and this is your magic carpet.”
“A stolen car.”
“I do what I can on short notice. Next stop, Ithaca, my lady,” he said, with a lightness that almost managed to conceal any apprehension.
“You said Monterrey or Mexico City.”
He smiled, but he was gripping the steering wheel tight, and perspiration beaded his forehead.
She wondered if they really would find a physician in the next town, and even if they did, whether they’d be able to help her.
She looked behind her and thought about Perla, left alone in the house.
But they couldn’t stop to tell anyone what had happened.
Perla might be dead or seriously hurt, and the police would pin it on them.
They needed to run away, that was what they must do. Run away and not think about Puerco Ahogado ever again. This was what they’d planned, wasn’t it? Murder and then freedom. Here they were, her twin yearnings.
She pressed her hand against the wound, felt the throbbing pain that seemed to radiate up and down her body.
“You must keep the dog,” she told him. “Whatever happens, keep the dog.”
“Nothing’s going to happen. Someone will patch you up. I’ve seen worse, trust me.”
“Promise me.”
“Yes,” he said.
How quiet and lonesome the town seemed as they sped away from it, as if every single inhabitant had headed indoors and turned their heads away from them. As if it were only Inés and Ulises following a winding road.
They both looked forward as the car drove through a diminishing fog that half concealed lush orchards and rich fields of tobacco.
When they were farther ahead, and the fog was but the thinnest of shrouds, the land around them began to look unreal; the moist green hills seemed as if they had been painted with watercolors.
She wondered if he’d really keep the dog, or if he’d leave it behind, abandoned by the side of a highway, and dump her body in a ditch. The blood from the cut at her temple rolled down her face once more and she did not bother to wipe it away this time.
She felt his palm against her free hand, clutching her for a moment, clutching her tight. A sob lodged in her throat, but she bit it back. She stared ahead, through the fear and the pain, feeling the weight of his fingers against her own.
“I don’t even know your real name,” she said.
He spoke.