They had not grown up in prison.
Javier grabbed his cousin’s baton arm, stretched it out to its full length, and drove his elbow into his cousin’s shoulder and his knee into his cousin’s stomach. His other cousin was struggling to stand, now, so he grabbed one cousin’s shoulders and smashed them together in a heap. Then he picked up the baton, and tased them both. Their legs jerked. They went still. They were done.
Stuffing the baton down the back of his chinos, he surveyed the rooftops. They were uneven, occasionally dotted with clunky black squares of photovoltaic tile. The lightning exposed their hard edges. The breeze carried the smells of rooftop gardens: oregano and mint and lemon blossom. He could have stayed here, he realized. He could have stayed in this country. It would not have been so bad. He could have found a good town and a good job, like the clademates he’d just dispatched. He did not have to go north. He did not have to meet Amy. But he had, and now his life was different.
The sirens were nearing. Mentally kicking himself, he discarded the watch wallet. It was likely being tracked. He would have to make money some other way. He’d need it, for the trip to Vegas.
In the distance, crowned by fairy lights, the cruise liner waited.
It would be easier to pose as a tourist if he were one of a crowd of them. Luckily, the Zona Rosa was full of them. Most of them were waiting out the rain in bars, or in the alcoves of bars, but some of them were undeterred by the weather and walking in the corridors made by palm trees and pastel stucco. From the rooftops, they looked especially determined. Determined, or completely dissolute.
Javier started by unzipping his hoodie, and draping it over the baton. Then he took things one step further, and took off his shirt. He rolled it up and stuffed it in a pocket. It was raining, but that was fine. Plenty of young human men were doing the same. They were all drunk. They were cooling off with their arms spread wide and their eyes closed against the rain. Javier jumped down into the alley and joined them. He found the one that was weaving the most perilously on his feet. They tended to give up the most information.
“I’m coming right back, I swear.” He was a kid in his late teens, with dirty blond hair and grey eyes. “But you gotta go full Shawshank on this bitch.” He grabbed Javier’s shoulders. He was very, very drunk. “Here. You gotta hold your arms out. Like you’re flying.”
Javier held his arms out.
“It never rains like this in Albuquerque.”
“I guess not.”
The kid squinted. “You look familiar.”
Javier smiled. “I get that a lot.”
“What are you?”
Javier made robot arms. “I-am-a-robot.”
The kid beamed. “I knew it! I fucking knew it!” He jumped up and down. “Aaron,” he said, sticking out his hand.
“Arcadio,” Javier said. It was the first lie that came to mind.
Aaron blinked. “Wow. That’s like a really cool name.”
“I’ll be sure to tell my father.”
Aaron laughed. Then he peered up at the rain. It was letting up, now. “So. You like, work here, or whatever?”
Javier shook his head. “I work in the forest, at one of the national parks.”
“Oh, I’m going out there tomorrow. We’re doing some jungle tour thing, and then we all get back onboard and head home.”
Javier put on what he knew was his most debonair frown. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Albuquerque landlocked?”
Aaron smiled again. He was so very drunk. “Uh, yeah, it’s landlocked,” he said. “We get off in Galveston. I mean, we dock in Galveston. I mean, I guess people in Galveston do get off, sometimes, but that not what I…” Aaron wiped rain away from his eyes. “I am so fucking trashed, man. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK.” Javier felt bad leaving him. It might be a bit dangerous. “Let’s get you a cab, OK?”
“Oh my God, no, I’m sorry, you don’t have to–”
“I want to,” Javier said, because it was true. He stepped further out into the street, and waved one down. It was one of those little driverless jobs painted a cheerful yellow, with a grill and headlights meant to look like a smiling face. It blinked at him and whispered up to him through the rain. He waved and the back door opened. He stuffed Aaron inside.
“Hello!” the cab said. “Where would you like to go today?”
“This passenger is going back to the…” Javier turned. “What’s the boat’s name?”
“Oh, God.” Aaron looked pale. He rubbed his temples. “It’s a poem. I’m supposed to remember that it’s a big, epic poem… like a real epic poem, not like an epic poem, you know…”
“The Odyssey?”
“That’s the one. The Caribbean Odyssey.”
“Take us to the Caribbean Odyssey. Charge this to his cabin.”
“Very good, sir.”
Javier went around the back, and entered the car from the other side. “We’re ready,” he said. The car began trundling away, just as Aaron puked between his spread legs.