The new drone opened a small door on the side of its housing, revealing the sparking prongs of a stun gun. “This is Campbell, and he’s the best self-defense drone the store had,” said Sahara. “Now, let’s get back outside—there’s no sign of damage in the back, which means these appliances are stopping the bullets.”
The group moved outside, staying low, Adriana clutching the wailing Chito tightly to her chest. The backyard was more of a loading zone than anything else—a long, narrow driveway came past the restaurant, ending in a small, paved courtyard with a spigot and a drain and just enough room for a delivery van or a garbage truck.
“Stay down,” said Guadalupe, talking to the girls again. “I know it’s scary, just—Pati, no! Gabi, grab her!”
Marisa couldn’t hear the conversation, but she could guess what was happening—Pati had spooked, and was running. And the first place she’d think to run was toward the restaurant.
Straight into the line of fire.
Before she was even aware of what she was doing, Marisa was up and running as well, charging down the driveway to the street. Her father shouted after her, but Marisa didn’t stop. She didn’t even have a plan, she just had to save her sister.
“She’s hit!” screamed Guadalupe.
“Get back!” shouted Sahara. Marisa ignored her, but a moment later Sahara grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back, just a few feet short of the building’s front corner. The space Marisa had been just about to enter was suddenly raked with bullets, and Marisa backed up with a yelp.
“I tried to warn you,” said Sahara, holding her tightly with both arms. “The cavalry just got here.”
Marisa looked up to see Campbell and Camilla hovering above the street, giving Sahara a bird’s-eye view. Half a second later a black car roared past the mouth of the driveway: a Dynasty Falcon. Maldonado’s enforcers had arrived.
“Stay hidden,” Carlo Magno whispered fiercely. He tugged the two girls farther back into the cover of the wall, keeping his gun up and ready.
“We have to get to Pati,” said Marisa.
“I know,” he said, “but we’re going to do it smart.” He looked at Sahara. “Tell us what you see.”
They waited, Sahara’s eyes moving across her video feed. “The enforcers stopped in front of the next shop over. The Tì Xū Dāo shooters are one door further down—ew, one of them just got hit.”
“Are they leaving?” asked Carlo Magno.
“No,” said Sahara, “they’re coming toward us.”
Carlo Magno nodded. “Tell me when they get right in front of the Maldonados—that’s when we move.”
Marisa turned to him. “When the shooting is worst?”
He shook his head. “When none of the bullets are coming in our direction.”
“Now,” said Sahara, already moving toward the street. “Go!”
The three of them sprinted out, turning sharply to the left, away from the battle and toward the two girls. The noise of the gunfire was deafening, and the street looked like a war zone: every building was riddled with holes, the windows shattered and the palm trees splintered and broken. The cars parked by the curb were devastated, some of them smoking where accelerated rounds had blown up their electric engines. Marisa saw her sisters huddled behind one of the burning wrecks, and dashed forward to reach them. “Is she okay?”
“No!” screamed Pati. Her eyes were closed, and she jerked back when Marisa tried to touch her.
“She’s not hit,” said Gabi, so agitated that her words came out in a ferocious jumble, almost too fast to decipher. “She just tripped, I think on the sidewalk, I didn’t see, I didn’t mean to freak out, but they’re shooting at us. Who’s shooting at us?”
“They’re shooting at each other,” said Marisa. “Just come with us and you’ll be fine. We have to get out of here.” She reached for Pati again, trying to pull her from the heat of the burning car, but the little girl screamed and lashed out with a kick. “It’s okay!” said Marisa. “It’s me, it’s Mari, I’m here to help you.”
Pati opened her eyes, wide and terrified, and latched on to Marisa as if the embrace alone would save her life. Carlo Magno helped her to her feet, and Sahara took Gabi’s hand, and they ran for the corner, away from the battle, only to shriek as two more gangsters came around it, walking toward them. They wore denim jackets covered in glass and colored gems, a ridiculous image in the midst of the carnage. Marisa was too shocked to react, and as the woman in front raised her gun Marisa could only stumble backward, but Carlo Magno’s gun was already up, and he fired two shots before the attacker could aim. The Tì Xū Dāo shooter went down. The second gangster had more time, and fired his thick-barreled pistol with a sound that seemed to shake the earth, the deafening blast of a rail gun, and Carlo Magno fell with a gurgle of pain.
“Like hell you did,” Sahara snarled, and suddenly the man was surrounded by Campbell and Camilla, darting back and forth, distracting the gangster while Sahara ran toward him. Marisa dropped to her father, rolling on the ground clutching his bloody leg.