The wild-haired woman shooed them onto her rooftop. Hatch looked down at the woman as she pulled it closed again. Before it shut, Hatch took one moment to admire the woman, who would forever be engrained as the Medicine Woman from Ayala's childhood story about the seed and the boulder. She was glad to have given the moment due pause, because in return she received the old woman's dazzling smile. Another wink and the door closed completely. This time when the padlock was returned to the hinge, Hatch heard the accompanying metallic click as she locked it, followed by the creak of her footsteps as she descended to the lower floor of her home.
Hatch only had the one gun. She carried it now in a low ready, bootlegged position by her left thigh as she turned to the hunched reporter and teen huddled close beside her, both faces offering the same question through terrified eyes. What now?
She had intended to go back for the sack full of weapons confiscated from Munoz and his men. Hatch had given a gun to both Ernesto and his wife Josefina in the hopes neither would have to use them. The rest were stowed in the trunk of Ayala's car, parked on the other side of the roof. No more than fifteen feet separated them from the car. But it might as well have been fifteen miles because of the cartel men sniffing around below.
The four armed men standing between them and their only transportation were now going house to house, looking for them. The terroristic nature of their questioning could be clearly understood in any language, even if their words weren't.
Hatch watched from above and hoped they wouldn't see the yellow of Ayala's Sentra peeking out from under the tattered sleeping bag blanketed over it. But she knew better. Everything now was not a matter of if, it was a matter of when and where they would be when it happened.
The three of them were pressed flat on the tin roof, cool to the touch having not yet been kissed by the morning sun. They were looking over a tight alleyway on the opposite side from where the Nissan was parked.
The gapped space measured no more than ten feet across. Hatch looked at the weakened Angela to her left, and the older but agile civilian reporter on her right and wondered if they'd be able to handle the jump and landing needed to get from where they were to where they needed to be. Hatch tucked the weapon inside her waistband and cinched her belt down as tight as she could, locking it to the small of her back, while being careful to adjust the hard angled steel of the weapon off the center of her spine and keep it in the upper part of her buttocks where her lean body had the most padding.
A commotion broke out below from within the Medicine Woman's home. The wild-haired, kind-smiling woman who hadn't uttered a word since bringing them through her tiny two-story home, more a one-story loft, could be heard loudly fending off the men with verbal assaults delivered in rapid-fire Spanish. Only two words Hatch could clearly hear, probably because they were said with such frequency, but she didn't recognize the words. Perros del diablos. Dogs of the devil. Devil Dogs.
"What'd the woman whisper to you when she invited us in?"
"Just told us to get inside followed by some mumbo jumbo."
"What was the mumbo jumbo?" Hatch asked as she quietly pushed herself up into a low crouch.
"She said she looked out her window and saw glowing woman by her baby cypress."
"Glowing woman?"
"I know, like I said, mumbo jumbo."
Hatch tried to make sense of the Medicine Woman's words as she stood and silently directed Ayala and Angela to do the same. Glowing woman? Then it made sense. She'd been flapping the shredded sleeping bag when the moon had finally broken its way through the cloudy pre-dawn sky above. The green of the makeshift blanket must've caught the light in a way that gave her a glow. Regardless, if that had been the reason for her opening the door and extending her bony hand in kindness, then Hatch glowed.
The Medicine Woman continued her verbal onslaught against the Devil Dogs as Hatch herded Ayala and Angela toward the center of the roof. Glass shattered in the chaos beneath their feet. Hatch imagined it had been thrown, and that whatever was used to make the loud crash had hopefully found its mark in the face of one her aggressors, because the next thing Hatch heard was the gunshot that silenced it all.
"Ready or not, we're going to have to jump."
Hatch expected resistance but got none. Adrenaline fueled them, generated by the imminent fear of death.
"Miguel, I'm going to need you to go first. You have to be on the other side to make sure Angela lands okay. She's very weak and might not be able to catch herself if she's unable to stick the landing."
Ayala nodded and set his gaze on the seven-foot tin runway between him and the edge. He took in air through deep and rapid inhales. Hatch was worried he was going to hyperventilate and pass out before even making the jump.
"It's ten feet across. I know that seems like a lot. I'd never ask you to do it if I didn't think you could make it. You don't jump and you know what's waiting on the other side of that door."
"I know all of that. I just can't seem to make my legs move."
Hatch knew what he was going through. Her father had tested her on that ridgeline and pushed her through the fear. "The distance seems impossible, but that's because you're not taking account of the six foot drop to the roof on the other side. It will carry you further than the ten feet you need."
Ayala's breathing became more settled as did his focus. "Where'd you learn that? Some top-secret killer school?"
"Mr. Henderson's tenth grade geometry class."
"I finally can tell my friends I used not only used my Spanish, I also used math to survive this crazy crap."
Hatch could tell the girl's awkward chuckle that followed melted away some of the fear and replaced it with determination.
"Don't choke up on your run. You hit the edge at full stride and launch off that edge. Do both of you hear me on this?"
Both nodded in unison.
"When you hit the other side, it's important to remember to bend your knees. You don't want to land straight legged. And if you don't stick the landing, then, as best you can, go with the momentum and curl yourself into a tuck, and roll out of it."