Savages

190

Sal whimpers.

He can smell his own fear, his own filth.

Can’t stop his legs from shaking or the tears pouring out his eyes or the snot running out his nose.

Jesus’s moans have stopped.

He lies like a pile of dirty clothes.

Lado puts his pistol to Jumpy’s forehead and shoots, splattering pieces of Sal’s friend all over him. Then he turns to Sal and asks, “Do you really expect me to believe that you just found a van full of yerba parked in your barrio and you took it? Is that what you expect me to believe?”

“I don’t know.”

Lado puts the gun to his head.