* * *
Grabbing Lorena as she made her way through the archway, Glenn quickly pulled her and Alma back behind shrubbery near the entrance as the Mexican military showed up. A platoon of soldiers began establishing a perimeter, apparently surprised the tip they’d received earlier in the day was genuine. Looking past the bread and circus, Glenn saw a red convertible off in the distance, making its way around to the back of the Hacienda to stay out of sight.
“They did it!” Alma shouted.
Glenn covered her mouth, glaring at her over his glasses. She shrunk down, keeping her mouth shut as they watched the operations.
“D-do either of you see anyone e-else?” Glenn whispered.
The women shook their heads. Glenn surveyed the area once more, trying to find familiar faces. With no success, he tapped on the women’s shoulders and directed them back inside. Leading the effort, Glenn crept up the stairs back into the Hacienda.
They looked around, staying close to each other in an effort to avoid the rioting. The entire right side of the Hacienda was gone, along with most of the center ground, leaving only the rapidly deteriorating church and arcade. Glenn examined a burnt-out, bloodstained wall across the way, looking up to its balcony. Moving in closer, he saw Kody sneaking across the remainder of the breezeway.
“Kody!” Alma shouted out.
Kody made it to the balcony and looked below, standing up to find a route to reach them. They watched as a bandito ran up from behind and planted its foot squarely into Kody’s back, knocking him off the breezeway. He fell several feet, landing in a small garden, on a bed of soft topsoil.
“Kody!” Alma turned back to Glenn. “Find Jake!” She sprinted off around the sinkhole in a mad dash to reach Kody.
Lorena turned back to Glenn, looking up to him. “I gotta find Ade.”
“G-go help her. I’ll find them.”
Lorena hobble-ran after Alma, leaving Glenn to continue exploring the ruins. Glenn stayed close to the main structure of the Hacienda, avoiding the sinkhole as much as possible. He made his way to the edge of the former courtyard, finding a set of collapsed stairs. He took a running start and jumped across, barely managing to cross the gap. He continued heading up, making his way to the balcony.
It appeared most of the banditos were establishing defensive positions, preparing for a final stand as the Mexican military reinforced their control of the perimeter and began moving in. Glenn canvased the area, trying to see through the smoke, though he could barely hear over the gunfire. Between the assorted flames, he was unable to pick out any of his counterparts.
Preparing to move, Glenn felt a sharp pain as a knife entered his thigh. As quickly as it had entered, the blade was gone. Glenn collapsed, finding a bandito fiending with bloodlust standing over him. The bandito pushed him forward, choking Glenn with his own shirt as it caught around his neck. Repeated violent jerks quickly ripped the fabric, allowing air back into his lungs. Stunned from shock, Glenn was unable to move as the bandito clawed at his pants, tearing them off. Regaining some semblance of reality, Glenn tried to crawl away, unable to do so with his pants caught around his knees. Adrenaline jolted fiercely through his body as the bandito tried to mount him from behind. Glenn screamed out, flailing, trying to protect himself.
He jumped forward at the sound of an inhumane screech as his assault suddenly stopped. He turned around enough to see the bandito running off and Jake standing over him. Glenn collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. Jake knelt, taking off his duster and shirt. He tore pieces of his shirt into bandages, making an improvised pressure dressing for Glenn’s bleeding thigh.
Sniffling, Glenn rolled himself over and pulled his pants up, although they were too damaged to stay on their own. Jake offered him a piece of bloody, heavy rope lying nearby, which Glenn used to make a belt. Jake put his duster over Glenn’s shoulders and helped him up, supporting him. Jake wrapped Glenn’s arm around his shoulder, helping him get back to the stairs. Glenn looked down as they headed to the staircase, seeing the remaining flesh of a flaccid, bloody penis.
He and Jake hobbled down the stairs together, nearly walking into a shootout between the banditos and the Mexican military. They doubled back and worked their way over the rubble behind the chapel, heading for a break in the wall near the sinkhole. They took up a position behind the burnt-out chantry, putting a plan into place.
“Atty—see that hole in the wall? It’s big enough for us ta’ squeeze through.”
“There’s no way we c-can get over th-there. Too much g-gunfire.”
Jake grabbed Glenn’s face and pulled him close. “Ya’ dumbass, remember what I told ya: dead men got nothin’ ta’ fear. Now move your ass while I draw their fire.”
They made their way to the clearing, looking around to find a path of approach. Jake ran out first, creating a scene while Glenn stumbled after. A minor explosion, whether from the bombs below or a hand grenade Glenn couldn’t tell, went off nearby. The concussive blast tossed them back toward the chapel, ringing Glenn’s eardrum as his body slammed against a wall.