Arrived

Chapter 16: A Killer Escape

After grabbing our things, Mom, Pedro, and I scrambled out of the backdoor and ran on the sidewalk until our feet were numb. All of a sudden, the killer kicked the door open and aimed his weapon with his left hand. In his right hand, he was grasping to his bleeding chest.

"Crap," Pedro moaned. He and I took cover behind the wall while Mom fired her gun at the man until she ran out of bullets. The man dodged the small missiles then pressed his finger against the trigger. I grabbed Mom's shoulder and pulled her behind the wall.

Bullets zipped through the wall, breaking bits of rock and brick. I knew the killer is getting closer. Mom quickly reloaded her revolver and fired bullets at the persistent criminal. "Get going!" she shouted at us. "I'll take it from here, okay?" Pedro grabbed Dad's luggage and obeyed Mom's command while I just stood there.

"I want to help!" I cried. Mom gritted her teeth when she saw the man running up to her, unfazed from the ammo. He struck her across the face, sending her flying across the trash can then looked at me. The man revealed his Cheshire smile, dropped his gun, and took out a fresh one hanging from his back.

Taking a step back, I bit my lip to keep myself from shivering. "Say Buenos Noches, girlie." the man snarled as he aimed his gun at me. Without warning, I kicked the gun away from his hand, sending it flying in a garbage can.

Next, I leaped to a nearby wall and sidekicked him to the face. The man staggered and reached for his weapon, only to realize it was gone. Dust clouded his eyes, allowing him to stagger back for a moment. The man swung his arm at me, but I blocked it and drove my kneecap to his crotch.

The next thing he knew, I bodyslammed him to the ground, pinning him with my foot on his back. "Ugh," he moaned. "Why did you have to do that?" "Who sent you to kill us?" I demanded, ignoring his complaint. "Do I have to answer?" the man snickered. "A little girl shouldn't ask these pointless questions-"

I grabbed the revolver that was lying near Mom's leg and pointed it at his head. "Would she do it, if the little girl is tired of your crap?" I barked. The man laughed, but I felt his heartbeat rising fast. "You're not going to shoot me," the man laughed. "You don't have the guts-"

I pointed the gun and fired it a few inches near from his head. "Happy now?" I asked sarcastically. Scared, the crook tried to get up until I slammed my foot down on his cheek and twisted his left arm. "Who sent you to kill us?" I repeated. After hours of struggling under my grasp, the killer decided to give up.

"It was the woman," he confessed. "She was the one who hired me." I raised my eyebrow at him. "What woman?" I demanded. "The woman that serves terrible coffee!" he shrieked. "At the diner-" "Under the Hot Sand," I interrupted sighing. The man looked at me with his scary dark eyes. "What?" he asked.

"That's the name of the diner, retard." I snapped. "Does she have a name?" "Amy Luna," the man answered. I thought about what Amy had said about the gang with a Tarantula skeleton tattoo then remembered something. "Is the name of their group, The Tarantula?" I asked suddenly.

"More like El Arana," the man sighed. "Don't ask me why." "What else is there that you are not telling me?" I asked. "Yes," the man admitted. "I killed the goons and Goodman's wife, yes I followed you, and yes... I kidnapped the boy." "Amy also hired you to do your dirty work?" I asked.

"Yes," the man answered truthfully. "Now, get off of me." Shrugging my shoulders, I realised his arm and get off of his back. The man pulled himself up to his feet then glared at me. "Are we good now?" he asked. "Yeah," I answered. "Thanks." Just as I was about to turn around, the man reached for something in his pocket with a sneer on his face.

Sighing, I threw a punch to his face, knocking him out cold in the process. "Idiot," I muttered. As Mom was regaining consciousness, I pulled up to her feet, handed her the gun, and ran to the path where Pedro fled. But when we got there, Pedro was on the ground with a bullet in his head.

His brown eyes were widened with fear and anxiety, but his bruised hands were tightened into fists. "Oh no," I gasped. Pedro was trying to defend himself from the attacker, but he or she didn't take the suitcases or his wallet. Instead, the person took his life.

Mom sadly took Dad's things while I carefully closed Pedro's eyes and dialed the police. "This is the police," someone called. "How may I assist you?" "There has been a dead body," I explained, staring at the corpse. For a moment, I wanted Pedro to sprang back to life and surprise us, but he didn't.

"What is the address?" the voice asked. I glanced at the white words, sitting on the metal green card then recite it. "Thank you," it beamed. After I hang up the phone, Mom gave me a small smile as she kissed my head.

"Let's find us a hotel," she replied. "In the morning, we will find a police station somewhere." I smiled back and picked up my suitcase and bags.

Together, we departed from Pedro's corpse and walked for many miles. The sounds of cars and crickets were beating down on us. Suddenly, I feel like yawning.

My eyes were getting droopy. "Just a bit longer," I tell myself. I trailed after Mom's sluggish footsteps until they stopped immediately.

I slapped myself in frustration in order to wake up. "Mom," I said. "What happened? Why did we stop?" I looked behind her and saw a small motel, standing in the middle of the lot. Trashcans rested against the ugly pink wooden structure of the building.

The hotel was at least two stories high, and yet it smelled like something died in there. The grimy window and door borders were painted in an aqua green, flies were swarming around the light, like moths, but here is the best part: blocking our entrance, is hobo with dirty business clothes was puffing smoke.

"This vacation can't get any worse," I muttered.