The Guadeloupe Squadeloupe

Chapter XXXVI: Alice

"Then we should get out of here," agrees Guad in English. "What cheap travel can we use to get far away from Mexico City? As far as possible?"

For what feels like the first time in forever, I get an epiphany.

"Cheap bus fare," I say. "It's horrible, gross; just dandy. But not very expensive." Janis and I had once taken a bus to a new foster home. We were crammed into a corner and sat there for five hours as we drove from one side of Wyoming to the other.

Perry nods. "That's a great idea." He locks his emerald eyes with mine and sends me a personal smile. I want to slap myself for the grin I find my face displaying. Are you serious, Alice? This is Ronnie Simmons all over again.

"Well dandy dandy great great," interrupts Janis. "Why don't we get out of here then, if we have a game plan?"

Is she serious? I glance at her hard blue eyes. What's her problem?

She stares back at me like, knock it off. This is important.

Until 10:00 in the morning we pack up our remaining supplies that haven't been lost in rivers or ambushes. All we really have are two backpacks stuffed full of plenty of hotel food and a few articles of our old clothing.

By the time we walk out of the hotel's luxury glass doors, Mexico City's bright sun is shining on the smog that lines the streets. People ride around on bikes, speeding past us on the sidewalk. Others sit in their cars as traffic crawls, yelling in Spanish at each other.

The squad begins down the sidewalk to find the closest bus station. I heft my backpack, ready to follow when I feel a hand clamp down on my shoulder.

It sends a shock through the rest of my body.

"Did you and your friends enjoy your stay?" A Mexican accent asks. Oh no.

I pivot my feet to see a buff looking man in a velvety green hotel uniform. On his chest a card reads, Miguel Sol, some word in Spanish, and below that, "manager."

"I-" I begin.

"We hope you appreciated the gifts we sent you," says the manager, tightening his grip on my shoulder.

As I stare closer at his uniform, I see that his golden jacket buttons each have the insignia carved on them.

Time to go.

Frantic, I glance to the direction of the squad, but they seem to have been swallowed by the crowd.

"Janis!" I scream a moment before the manager lets go and someone else (probably from HEXA) pulls me up against them.

A hand is clamped over my mouth as I struggle to pull away from this new person. But my backpack and I are pressed tightly against his torso.

The manager pulls out a sack and approaches me, lifting his hands to throw it over my face.

I struggle to make a noise, but one hand of the henchman holds his hand on my mouth to keep it shut and uses the other to keep my other hands bound by his hip.

"Mhmpghhgpfmghhhfg!" I yell.

Moments before the sack comes over my wide eyes, there is a gun shot and the manager crumples to the ground.

I scream and the henchman lets go of me and rushes off into the crowd of now panicking citizens.

To my left, Perry is stuffing a pistol in his pocket with the rest of the squad behind him, looking both disgruntled and furious.

My mind can't even comprehend it, so I simply run to them.

Janis embraces me quickly just to make sure I'm here and Perry touches my arm. I flinch. "Are you okay?"

"I- I'm fine. Thanks for killing a man, I guess."

"Come on, guys, we have to hurry," insists Guad. "It won't take long for the police to find out about this." How would he know a thing about that?

Perry snatches my arm, catching me by surprise, and pulls me into the crowd.

We're sprinting through the streets and in the background I feel as though I hear a siren. It has to be my imagination. I hope.

It doesn't take very long for us to arrive at a bus stop where several people are waiting, looking anxious.

One of them asks something to Guad in rapid Spanish.

"No vi nada," our friend replies, the back of his neck coating his scarf in nervous sweat.

He turns to us and mutters, " He asked if we knew anything about the gun shot." So that's why these people look so terrified.

"I would hope you fibbed a little with the answer," says Diana.

Guad furrows his brow and looks down at her. "'Fib?' What's that mean?"

The bus screeches and pulls up to the stop. Like lightning, the people sitting at the stop rush inside for protection from crazy gunmen (like Perry).

I read the location on the screen lining the vehicle.

"Quick! Quick! What does it say?" Bob asks, flapping his arms up and down. Soo handsome, Janis.

"Guayabitos?" I try to pronounce.

"Yes! Good! That's a couple hundred miles north of here! I've been there," explains Bob with a bright face. "That's great news!"

Perry pulls some cash out of his backpack. "Let's get on then."

He leads us and we all walk single file behind him, seeming to move too slow. I glance to the tall buildings lined with sunshine. I feel as though police snipers are up there, ready to kill us for the shooting of a manager.

The sky shuts out and I'm walking onto the bus. Perry pays for our tickets as fast as he can and we make our way to the back.

It's just as I remember. Smelly and crowded. The squad and I sit in the back, taking up the last two rows of three.

My backpack sits at my feet, Perry to my right, and the window to my left.

My heart jolts at the sound of a real police siren coming from the street. Get moving, get moving, I concentrate.

On Perry's right, Bob clamps his hands on his knees. "Awesome," he says through clenched teeth. "You had to shoot a man, Perry."

The bus lurches forward to my relief. Reaching down, I grab the new book Perry bought me in Bogota. Conveniently, it's in English.

He puts his hand on mine. "Sure you're okay?"

A nod.

"HEXA almost had you," he whispers close to my ear, his nose brushing my hair. It's like a gust of winter wind blows by me. I shiver. "Who knows what they would have done?"

"Actually Bob-"

Upon opening my new book, something new falls out of the pages.

I pick up a packet of 6 baseball tickets and let my mouth hang open. Each is signed by Finnegan Ashton.