The brownstones glowed blue as heat radiated off of the buildings that comprised the Hijo Lux compound.

A sweltering heat.

Tasìa made her way back up the street towards the office complex only to get smacked by a wave of it. She was forced to cover her eyes and duck down against the asphalt street as the air ripped from her lungs.

It had become too hot to even breathe.

Dummy, you are supposed to run away from a bombing raid, not run into one.

Still, she needed to tend to the safety of the people she had asked to place trust in her. Mere self-preservation seemed indecent at the moment.

As the heatwave passed, she squinted her eyes to once more face the direction from whence it came. A proverbial Hell on Earth, so it appeared.

Three giant wolf spiders near the compound's street curb were set ablaze by a stream of white phosphor-tipped rounds fired from a gunship.

The arachnids reminded her of a riot she had witnessed as a child. Men dressed in skull-painted masks splashed gallons of kerosene on random cars on the streets of San Pedro and set them on fire. Quickly they were consumed with flames that seemed to danse macabre above the metal carapaces.

The gunships rose in the air, and out of site. She assessed that the greater part of the danger had subsided so Tasìa pushed herself back up on her feet to continue onward.

Someone hugged the ground a mere ten yards ahead of her. A rather traditional long red bordello dress wrapped around a voluptuous figure.

The dancing prostitute.

The sky around them was littered with smoldering materials. A cinder landed on the prostitute's rump and bounced on her cheeks as the material that comprised her ruffled dress began to smolder.

She must not be able to feel it just yet.

Tasìa called out to her.

"Hey, Big Sexy!"

The prostitute looked up at Tasìa, crossédly.

"What did you just call me?"

"Big Sexy. It was meant as a compliment."

"Oh," she said, nodding her head. She smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry if I sounded so defensive," said Big Sexy. "I'm a little overly defensive about my figure. I use to be skinny as a rail in my days as a professional dancer."

Tasìa pointed at Big Sexy's rump.

"Your ass is on fire!"

Big Sexy blushed and smiled, sheepishly. "I do admit -"

Her eyes lit up and she screeched as she finally got the message. Unfortunately, Big Sexy was paralyzed with fear.

Her dress began to burn with holes forming and growing along the double arches of her rump.

As Tasìa closed in on the distance between the two of them, she put her climbing gloves on.

"Roll over and wiggle your bottom on the asphalt," Tasìa pleaded.

Tasìa helped Big Sexy to properly position herself to smother the fire out. The fire, however, routed itself around their attempts to contain it.

Where Big Sexy sat with her knees up and her feet dangling, fire still spread out from between her thighs. Tasìa shoved her hands through the side slip and patted the fire out.

It was an effective strategy. Big Sexy rolled on her side with her hip pointed up. Tasìa patted that out as well. The only fire that remained seeped up the lines of ruffles near Big Sexy's feet. With one shoe holding the fabric down, she stomped it out using the other boot with all due ferocity.

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As she stood up and appraised the damage, Big Sexy cursed.

"Damn. Damn. Double damn. My best dress. Positively a tatter."

Tasìa pointed up to the warm winds where embers flickered and drifted nearby. She grabbed Big Sexy's hand.

Tasìa dragged her along towards the wall of Annebél's home for the modest shelter against the fiery element that it provided.

She helped the prostitute out of her sadly ruined dress. Big Sexy was left wearing nothing but her boots and a girdle. She removed the girdle and threw it to the ground.

Though she had seen Big Sexy in full frontal flesh before Tasìa stood in awe even still.

The big girl chuckled at Tasìa's curiosity and she decided to make some use of it. Big Sexy turned around, grabbed her haunches, and pulled her cheeks in an upward motion for Tasìa's inspection.

"How is my bum?"

Along her left cheek and inner thigh were some minor burns.

"Nothing serious. No worse than a typical sunburn."

The prostitute sighed in relief.

"Thank you for your help, Sugar," Big Sexy said. "I've done this walk so many times now, I doubt if anyone at the Quick Mart will be surprised when I show up butt-ass-naked again."

With a nod of courtesy, she swung back around and proceeded to strut down the road toward the service station.

Tasìa continued up the hilly street. Commotion, heat waves, and explosions continued. Even so, Tasìa made it to Annebél's door in one piece.

The materials that formed Tasìa's assembly of clothing were even more prone to fire hazards than Big Sexy's dress. Yet, except for having to brush away at a few granular embers that bore into her flesh, Tasìa made it to the safety of the vault awning without much fret.

When she stopped there to rest, a large chunk of wall fell from the brownstone façade along the front curb corner. Pieces of rubble splashed out from the fallen wall and pounded upon the awning.

Yet, Tasìa remained safe. At least acceptably so, she determined. With that in mind, she could better gauge what was occurring around her.

For one, she needed to ask Annebél about Alex and the Wise One. She tried the vault door release to Annebél's home. It was locked.

Where was she?

Had she and her brother already made their break for it and were now on the road to Asunsión?

Tasìa's eyes darted about in a fretful surveil across the lot. She wasn't even certain which one of the vehicles belonged to Annebél. She suspected the Jeep, the closest one that lined up functionally with Annebél's vaulted door.

Unlike the other vehicles, some appeared quite derelict, it was still in good shape; as in, nobody would dare fuck with it good shape.

The transients and local musical talent still hung by the main building. As they watched the fiery display emanating from the Hijos Lux compound, they had sensibly backed up closer to the sturdy wall so the roofing cantilevers provided some protection from random debris. Tasìa searched their faces.

Neither Annebél nor Agu was amongst them. As sirens began to blare from approaching fire engines, Tasìa got the uneasy feeling something was not quite right.

She now spotted that which gave her pause and fret. The lookout she had previously shot with a graze wound stood like a bouncer by the entrance door of the main building.

What was going on here?

Tasìa caught a glimpse of something sparking up.

From inside the office window, a stogie-sized red ember of light outlined Annebél's face. A gun was being held against her head.

Tasìa could tell it was her very own early 1980s-issued Desert Eagle chambered for the .357.

A second inhale lit up Annebél's face in the red ember light. Her brows arched more amused than fearful, much like that face of herself from the faux 18th-century Parisian poster.

That is just so perfectly you, my sister. Ever defiant. I can't let you die!

Yet, she had mere seconds to spare and that was only if they let her finish her cigar.

The Kel-Tec P-32 was no more, the TAC-50 was damaged beyond repair, and the .357 Desert Eagle was in enemy hands. That left the Škorpion machine pistol. Fortunately, the duffel bag was only four yards away.

She breathed in and clinched her gut. Mercurial vapor arose from her sinuses as her flesh grew heated.

Tasìa bent her knees, grabbed the saddlebag key from its boot clip, sprinted, jumped, and slid against the ground until the flap of the was in her hands.

All accomplished in a little over a half-second.

Her hope died when she lifted the strap, swung the duffel bag inside it around to the ground so the zippers faced her. The bag did not weigh enough to have been carrying a Škorpion inside. Two clips of 9 mm rounds tumbled out, along with other effects.

The bolt lock she had previously fastened upon it made a double thunk sound at her feet; made from a titanium alloy, but now split in two laser-cut pieces.

She jerked her head back around towards the main building window so she could see her captured friend for one last time.

I have failed you, my dear sister.

The cigar glowed again. As it slowly dulled, the cigar swirled end over end to the floor in one last flicker.

Tasìa winced and clenched her hands together as she braced for the inevitable muzzle flash.

Several seconds passed as she blinked her dust-dry eyes. The muzzle flash did not come. She wiped at her forehead with the back of her arm, and she began to breathe again.

What she now noticed troubled her.

The lookout stared blankly at her. Now that he had her attention he nodded. From behind his back, he brought out the Škorpion and rested the butt against his hip.

He pointed a bony finger at Tasìa and swung his thumb towards the main building entrance.

"Get inside," he yelled. His voice nastily exuded thuggish ambition just as she assumed it would.

She peered into his eyes. He was too ignorant to know fear.

"Get. In. There. Now!"

Tasìa looked him in the eye once more, grinned, and sauntered slowly forward.