The city appeared as a mirage over the horizon. They had been walking for hours that day, just as the first lights had shown they had started, and with the sun atop of their heads now they had kept going. And that illusion never appeared to get any closer for as long as she saw.

“It was before I saw it, the eighteen dependencies,” she recounted later, “that I lost consciousness.”

The lady first came to later that day. She awoke in a seemingly derelict room, that she would later hear were actually paid for accommodations. In any case, she couldn’t much judge those accommodations, as she was drifting in and out of her sleep. The only thing she would later remember of that first day in the city, was the nest of skyscrapers that could be seen from the open window at her bedside, beyond a sea of makeshift houses and misshapen concrete. “Beautiful,” she would spout meekly, unknowing if anyone else was there to hear her.

The next morning, against all the odds given to them by the unlicensed doctor that saw to them, the lady had made a full recovery. Heatstroke, dehydration, inanition; those were just a few of the things that doctor had diagnosed both of them for. “Just drank some water, what’s the issue?” The lady told the somewhat incredulous looking Sam.

“Well,” Sam started frowning, “if you were normal, it would have been a huge one, actually.”

“Normally, you mean? Normally it would’ve been an issue?” She crossed her arms, “we are not normal though-”

“We are martial artists, I know,” he completed for her, “guess you are alright if you can spout that bullshit.”

The lady laughed. Then, after the laughs, came the explanations. Apparently for her and Sam’s treatment, the underground clinic Sam had taken her to, gave him a credit with some ludicrous interest rates. “Man, you got straight up robbed. I don’t care If I was dyin’,” she told her with her hands on her hips. “And besides, how did they got you to sign this, did they spoke Marascino? In this country? Nevermind that, how did they got you to comply, regardless of their language?”

Sam frowned once more, “you were dying:”

“So were you, pendejo! And I don’t see anything in this paper about your treatment, did you just tough it up?!” She was almost yelling.

“Lower your voice, I’m fine, ok?” He told her while scratching his head, “I already ate, and drank properly. I’m a martial artist, no? So get off my back.”

She frowned and let herself sink in the bed, “whatever.” Then, she began smiling again, “but, hey! If we are both alright, and indebted, does that mean that we gotta work now?”

“I guess.”

“Haha, you do not look happy about that at all!”

“Why would I be? C’mon, let’s get something to eat”

After eating, something they apparently afforded on Sam’s increasingly pricey loan, they both set their sights on doing some honest work. But where to begin? Sam didn’t speak New Universal, the common tongue from this country, so the young lady would have to be their interpreter. “So the people around these parts are fairly organized, right? They have this credit system where you entrust your spending to one of these, uh… groups, and then they get you work, huh? That’s nothing like our pueblitos back home, haha!”

The lady didn’t seem to be too worried about being indebted to an unknown group, but Sam was quite bothered by it. “Let’s just get some work done, get the people from around these parts to tell the Grey Crows we are paying for their hospitality,” he told her while looking over his shoulder nervously.

“The Grey Crows…” she said with some delight in her voice, “thatta name for a neighbourly association,” and cracked a big, dumb smile.

“Well, these guys might not entirely be legit.” Sam said, but was seemingly ignored. He looked around at the decrepit houses and the people that somehow seemed poorer than them, saw shifty individuals gliding around the other folks and in and out of shops, and was increasingly paranoid about it.

The young lady wasn’t bothered by any of it though. The makeshift houses, the suspicious people, the envious looks. It wasn’t entirely alien to her. To some degree, she enjoyed that sort of lively place. But even if she wasn’t bothered by the crowds and the homeliness of that place, she wasn’t distracted from her real goal; she still looked up on the regular at that horizon bejeweled in crystal towers.

“You’re still hung up on that, huh?” He said annoyed, “I still see just a mirage.”

This caught her by surprise. Right away she didn’t know how to respond, but she still tried; “heh, is there a thang that don’t seem to you like a mirage since we crossed the border? Until we can touch with our own hands what we can see with our own two eyes, let’s not let ‘em tell us what is or isn’t a mirage.”

He shrugged and kept walking. They’ve been at that for a while, walking and shrugging, daggers being stared at their backs. After some time, they reached a great grille, it’s mesh bent in places where people tried in the past to sneak to the great city ahead. Monte Callado, it was called. They had heard about it for so long, it seemed like a lie that they were finally so close, and between the city and the grille lay a clearing so large it didn’t seem connected to the city on the horizon.

“There's still a wide gap between where we want to be and us,” she said, still looking through the mesh.

“Yeah…” he responded, shrugging.

I guess it's up to me to fix this mess, she thought. “Alright, so about that debt…”

“Before you lose it again, it was the only way I could've saved you”

“I know, I know. I woulda done the same thing for you. I'm just curious, how did they communicate with you?”

“They had a guy, a guy spoke Marascino, he was one of the crows.”

“So do you think what they say about this place is true? That there are more like us here?”

“Who knows, at least the crows have some people that can speak the language…”

“That's good! Good news is all I hear. Then maybe we can see eye to eye.”

“I don't think you can see eye to eye with these guys”

“Well, we can try. Let's see first if we can work it off, like you said.”

They both nodded and turned around. As they walked back, they passed by a huge mural that could be seen from miles, positioned towards the city. In it was represented a grey crow, and the still fresh mural appeared to be covering another, but they paid it no mind.

“We have to speak with the locals!” The girl said effusively while they continued walking through the neighborhood. “Even if you can't speak the local language, there's still no excuse for your grumpy and antisocial behaviour, this will be remedied by a dose of Carolina's brand diplomacy!”

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. Then the girl, Carolina, told him that she had to interview every person he had failed to communicate with. Unlike him, she had learnt to speak the language of the country of the shooting stars, known as New Universal, after years of pirating martial arts shows and movies.

“The more suspicious, the better!” She finished.

The first person on that list was an old guy that managed a shady place. Sam had spoken to him before, on the Grey Crows’ hq, but they hadn't quite hit it off, perhaps on account of the man's poor knowledge of Sam's language, perhaps on account of his attitude. The place was indeed a seedy one, drunken men and scantily dressed women were standing outside.

Carolina looked at the women and whistled, “what a place!”

“On second thought, maybe we shouldn't go in there,” said Sam.

“Don't be such a baby, Sam.” She said and stormed in.

Before being able to follow, two of the women stood in Sam's way and posed suggestively at him while speaking in the language of the country of the shooting stars. He shoved them aside and briskly went behind Carolina. Once inside he felt nauseous, the place reeked of sex. It took him a second to get his bearings and notice Carolina a few steps to the right, next to a counter.

“Ah, so you came,” said the old man who was sitting behind the counter and already talking with Carolina in New Universal. “I wasn't expecting you, to be honest, but at least you brought the girl.”

Sam got closer to the two, “excuse me, but I don't think we'll be doing business with you.” He said in the tongue of his ancestors, the Marascino that they used to call the Universal Language, back in the times before the Long War.

The man arched an eyebrow and looked at Carolina, “what did he say?”

“Uh, he said he doesn't wanna do business” Carolina responded.

“Why, I don't think you two have much of a choice.” He got from behind the counter and got next to the girl, “mmm, a bit of an ugly face, but in agreeable shape. Some men like the small tits, I suppose… and the muscle.” He then got closer and reached with a hand to her thighs, but Sam intercepted it with his.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Both men screamed in different languages. Sam then began to tighten his grip, folding the old man to his knees.

“Woah there, Sam. Don't you think you're taking things out of proportion? He's just an old man…” said the girl.

“He's a dirty old man and he's about to get it,” answered Sam. Carolina approached him and pushed him away from the old guy, breaking Sam's grip.

“Let's just go before things escalate further… this isn't going to work out,” said the girl to Sam's confused face, disappointment ringing in her voice.

Once he stopped seeing red, Sam sighed and began to follow Carolina, who was already walking away from the place. Outside, he tried to get Carolina to talk, “hey, sorry about all that… it's just that… you know.”

She sulked and for a while it seemed she wouldn't respond, but then she said, “Sam, I am almost an adult, I want to help! We got in this mess together, I wanna do my part to get us out.”

“”But you are not an adult, Caro. And this? I won't let you do this. So don't say that, ok? Don't ever say that, I won't ever let you sink that low.” He was visibly shaken.

“Oh, Sam. I know you don't like this kinda stuff…” she smiled somewhat bitterly, “alright, we'll see what else we can do” and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How touching,” they heard, interrupting the moment. “But I was promised something, and I intend to get it,” it was the old man, and now he was accompanied by some skinny but tall men, three in total.

“See Sam? This is what your ways get us,” said Caro. “Men who think above their station.”

Caro and Sam both sighed, and the latter began to crack his knuckles. The men began to close in on them, the old guy laying back to watch the scuffle. They didn't have the initiative for long, Sam dashed forward and in a split second was in front of the tallest guy, who was leading the other two. Sam opened first with a reverse open palm to the leader's face, his knuckles scraped his eyes. While he was closing his eyes, Sam kicked his knee back, shattering it, and as he was falling forward Sam hit him with an uppercut that sent him falling in the other direction.

The other two stopped for a second, and then took the initiative. One went behind Sam, while the other faced him head on. Sam didn't let them maneuver further, he struck the Adam's apple of the man in front of him and then hit the tip of his jaw with a powerful hook. While the other was falling, the man behind Sam grabbed him, putting his arm around Sam's neck. Sam grabbed the guy's arm and threw his other hand over his shoulder to grab the other’s head, and folding his upper body forward slammed the guy face first into the concrete.

When Sam lifted his eyes to see where the old man was, he noticed him fleeing. “Stay here with the whores for a second, I have something to take care of.”

“Whatcha gonna do?”

“Just getting some trash out of our way,” he said as he followed behind the old man. When he caught up to him, they were both away from Caro's sight, on a deadend. “You got some nerve trying to whore my sister,” he told the old man who was on the ground, his voice cracking with anger.

“I-I c-can’t understand… what you are saying?” And neither did Sam. Before he could say anything else, Sam struck his neck with a low kick.

Crack. Sounded the old man's neck, as he collapsed motionlessly on the ground. Sam walked away without even looking back.

“Hey,” said Caro when she saw him again. “How was the trash taking? You look a lot calmer.”

“I just meditated for a bit.”

“That's good!”

“How were you?”

“Oh, super good. The prostitutes are friendly.” She said with a smile while presenting to Sam a young, demure lady in a tube top and a miniskirt.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” he said, but the lady didn't understand him. “We should leave now,” he said back to Caro.

“Alright! Bye, Dido!” She said while turning back to wave. The lady named Dido vowed back, courteously.

Afterwards, they went to the place where they had grabbed a bite earlier, some kind of eating hall. It was a homely place, when Caro had first seen it from outside, she didn't believe there was a business inside. This time she knew better. Once inside they were greeted by an old lady that spoke a patchwork of languages and had tended to them earlier, Caro spoke a bit of the same tongues, so she handled the communication. The business was stacked, and the lady seemed quite eager to return to work, nonetheless Caro managed to convince her to let them work there.

And work they did, and it was a refreshing change of pace. They cleaned floors, served tables and did dishes. They were peaceful hours, those they spent doing a bit of honest work. It reminded them of simpler times, before the desert, before the last few months at the villa.

But the peace was momentary. Caro was in the kitchen handling some desert onions when she heard the mess start, but by the time she got to the hall it was already over. It was a disaster, tables flipped, customers cowering in fear and would be assailants were roughed up right. On top of the mountain of bodies was Sam a bloodied knife clutched hard in his left.

“The depths happened ‘ere?!” exclaimed Caro.

Sam looked almost bashful in response, he slowly dropped the knife and then began to excuse himself, “they were harassing the old lady.”

“Uh huh?”

They both stood silently looking at the floor, then Sam broke the tension, “they had knives.”

Caro took Sam by his hand and brought him outside. They were both going at a brisk pace. “While I'm glad you're looking out for our new bosses, I doubt they're gonna appreciate the property damage,” the girl said as she went. “How many of them were there anyway?”

“About four or five.” Sam shrugged. It was one of those days when that was his go to answer. Caro grabbed the bridge of her nose and frowned.

“Alright, so this has been a disaster so far, anyone else on the list?”

“There's that guy that spoke Marascino.”

“Yeah that guy, know where we can find him?”

After Sam told her he had spoken to him back at the Grey Crows' hq, she didn't as much as flinch. They went to the place without wasting time and when they got there, Caro thought it was a sight to behold; an old, derelict office building from back to the beginning of the Era of

Unilateralism, the surrounding buildings had been bulldozed so the place stood ominously in the middle of nowhere. While the rest of the slums were filled to the brim with people, there was no one getting close to that place.

“You know you don't have to do this, don't you?” Said Sam with regret in his eyes.

“We got this far, didn't we?” The girl looked willfully at the tower.

“Caro,” he said and put a hand on her shoulder. “You don't have to play tough, we don't have to go in there if you don't want to.”

“You came here before, right?”

“And it was a hard, unwelcoming place.”

“But you think we can find that guy in here?”

“It's my only clue.”

“Then we go in.” She started in the direction of the building, Sam trailing behind. Once up at the door, two thugs stopped her. “Uh, I'm looking for a guy.”

“Tough luck,” said one of them while shoving her back.

“Sam, help me out here, what's the guy's name?” The girl asked her brother.

“Alejandro.”

Caro looked at him and then back at the thugs, “you heard the man, does the name ring a bell?”

The thugs looked at eachother, and in a bit they were leading the two inside. “Ask around,” they said. “If Alejandro’s back, you'll find him.”

Sam had been in the place before, but the ambiance was completely different now, “you say the word, we can go back. Remember that,” he whispered in Caro’s ear.

“Thanks, Sam,” she whispered back, but she had no intention of backing down. Something was boiling inside her, and she wasn't quite sure what it was. Caro forced a smile, and Sam noticed in the corner of his eyes.

I get it. He thought. This was the moment of truth, and his sister was putting her strongest front up. I'm proud of you, he thought, but couldn't say. The words were a knot in his throat. All he could do was smile back.

They kept asking for the man, Alejandro, and going up scores of stairs. They were both sizing up the men at the place, and taking count of how many they were. Bony and hard they were, the men of that place. Caro thought that they mustn't eat a lot in that place.

Eventually they found him, he was sitting on a bench somewhere in the middle floors and he was surrounded by men of the Grey Crows, talking up a storm and laughing. He was blonde and skinny, but looked well fed, unlike the Crow’s goons, also better dressed. And he had an eyepatch covering his left eye. A deadeye? She thought, “hey,” Caro said, interrupting the revelry. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“Ah, yes. El pibe that doesn't speak New Universal and… “he stood and took Caro’s hand to kiss it “...the lady.”

“Charming,” the girl said. And perhaps, in different circumstances, she would have truly believed it was, but her face said otherwise. “As you can see, I'm better now. We wanna pay the crows back.”

“Oh, I've heard you two’ve been paying the crows back, already.” He said nonchalantly, and the air tensed up.

“Wha-whatever do you mean?” The girl said, choking slightly.

“Oh, only that the man we sent your silent boy, Sam to see to pay those pesky debts, well… that's an asset the crows won't be able to make use of again”

Caro looked over to Sam, worry painted over her eyes. What do they mean? She thought, Sam didn't know how to answer that look. With her eyes back on Alejandro and forcefully putting up airs, Caro began again; “your pimp’s terms were unacceptable, I think that after some consideration, you'll see we are more useful assets than that guy.”

“Oh, of that I'm sure, but perhaps not for the Crows. They are a vindictive lot.” At that moment, the siblings noticed that the men surrounding Alejandro had begun to group around them instead. Before Alejandro could signal anything, Sam elbowed a man that was closing in on him from behind, sinking his nose inside his face. But despite seizing the initiative, he was already surrounded by over ten men, he struggled heroically, wounding three others while Alejandro laughed and clapped. Eventually they managed to take him down. Caro, on the other hand, was too shocked to struggle.

When they came too, they were tied up at the wrists, back to back. And they were being carried upstairs. On the next to last floor, they passed right by Alejandro, who was accompanied by a muscular woman in a tank top almost a head taller than him, and he wasn't a small man. He came right next to them and placed a hand to their back, “put up a good show for the man upstairs, and you may yet win the day.” Then they passed him by as he smiled at them the woman beside him was laughing with a devious face.

The final floor of the building was special, a great hall was made knocking down the walls of the offices, leaving only one in the middle. “I assume that's the one we’re going into?” Said Caro, a bit drowsily.

“Are you alright?” Her brother answered.

“A bit confused, I'm thinking about what Alejandro meant… and also trying to count all of these goons,” if she could’ve, she would have gestured at the plentiness of the men in that last floor. “They're a tad few.”

The two were slowly dragged across the hall and through the middle of the crowd, insults and bottles sometimes being hurled at them. One of the bottles hit Sam in the head, opening a small gash on his brow. He could only sigh in response.

“Hey, Sam?” Said the girl.

“Yeah?”

“You think this is a good way to die? Here, today… with me?”

“Caro…” The girl closed her eyes as if expecting to be scolded, but her brother continued, “I wouldn't prefer it to be with anyone else… place and time? Could take different ones.”

They both chuckled, but their respite was short lived. Soon they reached the door of that office in the center, and they were promptly hurled inside. In the office, Sam, who was placed facing forward, saw the leader of the Grey Crows sitting behind a desk. He was a pitiful man, fat and dressed sleazily. A pair of shades with a fake golden frame completed the look. Next to him was a tall man in a hoodie and cargo pants.

“So… after we got you a doctor you two think you can come and fuck with us, huh?!” The man said in the language of the country of the shooting stars.

“What did he say?” Sam said nonchalantly to Caro.

“He's saying we are screwing with him,” she responded.

“Screwing with you?! You were planning to do that to us from the start!” Sam yelled in Marascino.

“You… border trash!” The man began to escalate his tone further, “what the hell are you even saying?!” The man beside him chuckled.

“Sam, he can't understand you.” The girl was trying to de-escalate.

“Oh, he'll understand from the tone of my godforsaken voice!” Sam told the girl, the began to up his voice directing to the man, “you piece of trash!”

“Scummy little rat!”

“Shittily dressed pig!”

“Sam, stop! We gotta play it smart!” The girl tried to appease her brother, but the two men were already invested in talking trash the loudest to the other both in languages their receptor couldn't understand. So the girl breathed deep, and began to search inwards for a way to escape. First were the words of that shady man who could speak their tongue, Alejandro… What did he mean by putting a good show? Then was the nature of their entrapment, she started to feel around the ropes, seeing how tightly they were tied. It was then that she noticed something that wasn't there before.

A pocket knife, sitting nicely inside on one of Sam's back pockets. How did that get there? It was no matter, for now, she had to get Sam to calm down. “Sam,” she said, but her brother was too immersed in the discussion, so she tried harder. “Sam!” It was no use, her brother was seeing red, and there was little that she could do to get him out of that state. She thought long and hard about what to do, at the same time she tried to get that pocket knife into her hands. It was a struggle, she could almost reach it, but not quite. For several moments it seemed the knife would fall from the pocket and into the floor, ruining their prospects. Until she glanced at it with a finger, and grabbed it as hard as she could. Her victory also brought her clarity of mind, in that moment she drove her head back as hard as she could, hitting Sam so hard it confounded both men. “Sam,” she began to say in the ensuing silence in her and her brother's native tongue. “Focus, I'm going to cut you loose, but I need a second. Do you think you can get that guy's attention away from me for just a little longer?”

Sam smiled, “oh I think I got just the words. He had picked up bits and pieces of the language of the country of the shooting stars from here and there, and he had just the ones to say to that guy in particular. He pointed his nose upwards and looked down arrogantly at him and said in the language of the country of the shooting stars; “you bloated, classless, pretentious old pig.”

The man didn't even know what to say to that, so he gave him the closest he could think of “... The fuck did you just say?!”

“You, uh, heard me… bitch.”

“Oh, I'm so done with you!” He yelled and got the man by his side to pass him something from above his desk, it was a meat cleaver, and started in the direction of Sam and Caro, while the other man stayed back.

“Uh, Caro, are you close yet?” Sam said, somewhat preoccupied.

“I'm on it,” the girl said, the ropes required her to twist her wrist in an uncomfortable manner. She was cutting, but was not quite there.

The man began to get closer, cleaver in hand. “I'm going to feed my men with you two.”

“Caro,” Sam said. “Caro!”

The ropes were just about to snap, when the knife slipped off of Caro’s sweaty palms. “Shit!” She got to blurt out. The man, already on top of them, lifted the cleaver high and began to swing down.

“That's good enough.” Sam said, as he snapped the ropes by flexing his arms. And in a single moment he jumped forward into the fat man's face, his hands disappearing in a flash.

It's the fabled one-two! Caro thought. She didn't see, but she didn't need to. The man's glasses, the frame twisted and the glass shattered, went flying through the air with a splash of blood. And so did the cleaver, which spun in the air until it fell and embedded itself to the ground next to Caro. She saw it and contemplated for a second, before thinking; no.

The other man that was beside the desk tried to get something from one of the desk's drawers, but Sam got to him first, he grabbed him from the back of the neck and his pants with the other hand and he lifted him over his head before slamming him face first into the ground, almost making his head go through.

“Alright, how much longer do you think we got?” Said Caro.

“That depends on whether they heard the ruckus,” responded Sam.

“Alright then, how long do you need?” She said while going over the desk's drawers. She knew that a self respecting gangster needed one thing, and she was looking for it.

“I'm about done,” he was stretching his arms and legs, and cracking his knuckles.

“Then let me-” she was saying when she got to what she wanted, a twelve gauge pump action shotgun. “Nevermind, hit it.” She wielded the death dealing machine.

After seeing Caro armed and ready, Sam exhaled, went to the door, kicked it open and stepped outside. Caro got a central position in the room, close to the unconscious body of the leader of the Crows, and thought: if there’s anyone that’s gonna give us trouble it’s that lady with the huge arms that was hangin’ with Alejandro. She was slightly taller than Sam, but she was way beefier. As she was absorbed in thought, she was distracted suddenly by shouting coming from outside the office. Then Sam came back inside, closed the door back and got in position. His stance was a kickboxer’s, “how many you counted?” she asked from behind him.

“About twenty just on this floor.” Which meant that more than twenty would be coming up once the action really got going.

It was in the middle of those considerations that the first man made his way into the enclosement. Sam kicked the door in his face and pushed him back outside. Immediately after, someone opened the door once more, this time Sam let him in, the man came wielding a bat and tried to let Sam have it, but he ducked below it and hitted him with a straight right in the jaw, flooring him. The following man entered wielding a knife, seeing the blade Caro got frightened for a second, but seeing the man flail left and right and concluding his action by accidentally getting Sam stuck between the blade and him, calmed Caro down. He’s done, she thought, Sam hitted him in the head with a hook, throwing him violently on the ground, blood sprouting from his mouth. “Agh! I hate seeing severed tongues!” she winced.

“Focus,” but Sam remained with the head in the fight.

Someone else entered running, Caro couldn’t see if he was wielding a bottle or something else, and whiffed a downward strike. Sam grabbed onto the hand and made the man eat his weapon of choice. The next guy came armed with a wooden plank fitted clumsily with rusted nails, but before being able to do anything with it, he got nervous upon seeing Caro and noticing she was holding onto a shotgun. In that instant, Sam threw a kick at his head that seemed to gently wrap around it, before hitting him and making him rebound against the door frame, and then he fell unconsciously on top of the other bodies. Caro huffed, “humph, a true martial artist would be willing to challenge the gunpowder in melee!”

Sam merely huffed back. Right, Caro thought, head in the game. The fifth guy entered with an icepick, Caro couldn’t help but notice no one seemed to have guns. Not that she was complaining. The icepick guy jumped at Sam with the intent to stab anything at all, but he tripped with the bodies and fell right next to Sam, who stomped his neck as if it was a roach without even looking at him. Caro sighed, self defense, self defense; she repeated to herself.

Just a few moments later, the entry to the office was crowded with unconscious bodies. Unconscious and worse, but it’s alright, she said to herself, because we are doing all of this to survive, and surviving makes me happy. She smiled, and got distracted for a second, until the sight of Sam gouging a man’s eyes brought her suddenly to the present. Right, head in the game. She analyzed the situation, the pathway to the office was blocked, people trying to get in had to climb the ever growing mountain of bodies, or start moving them out of the way. The most worrisome thing, she continued in her head, continues to be that huge lady, if she can fight as good as Sam, she’ll be our biggest obstacle. Aside from that, it would be them realizing they can just starve us until we have to come out.

It took about fourteen or fifteen losses that the Grey Crows that were left first seemed to begin to use their head. Caro and Sam first realized this when they began hearing heavy blows against the walls. “They are going to bring down the office!” Caro yelled. Sam grunted in response, he was too tired for anything else. Caro pumped the shotgun, not for any other reason than that’s what they did in the movies, and then swallowed. The sound of the cartridge falling on the ground echoed for seconds, long seconds, and that was around the time the Crows needed to open the first hole on the walls.

The first thing that happened then was a guy entering with a sledgehammer, Caro couldn’t see how Sam took care of him as she was distracted by another guy entering the office by climbing upon the mountain of bodies. Caro pointed the shotgun at him, but something in her eyes betrayed that she wasn’t ready to pull the trigger, so the guy didn't stop. Caro threw herself on the ground, feigning surrender, and once she noticed the guy on top of her, she placed the shotgun between his legs and pushed upward while getting up. The guy fell over Caro’s head, landing on his own. The sound his neck made gave Caro nausea, but before being able to rationalize anything in her head, she noticed someone grabbing her by the shoulder. As she turned around to see, the first thing she noticed was Sam’s elbow, barely anything of the face it was striking as Sam had gotten to him before anything happened.

Before being able to regroup, a second hole in the walls opened up, as more people kept pouring in. Now there were three conscious men in the office with them. Caro’s hands were shaking, she knew Sam couldn’t handle more than three guys at the same time, and they were beginning to be encircled. She had to pick a target, and she had to do it now, but her sight was growing dim and her entrails were beginning to get mixed up. She closed her eyes and lifted the shotgun, she didn’t know if she got to fire, albeit she did try, and the very next thing was darkness.

When she woke up, her face felt scorching hot and her body mostly numb. It took her a second to become aware of her surroundings once more, and she was next to the rubble, tied again back to back with Sam when she did. “Ah,” she sighed, “I guess we didn’t win.”

Sam started something like a reassuring laugh, but a sharp pain interrupted him and he could only let out a labored grunt. “We did what we could,” he said as soon as he was able.

“Sam… I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t feel as bad as I thought it would, although… It could get, well…”

She smiled, “don’t worry, you don’t have to mince words with me. We saw enough in our journey for me to expect any mercy in the situation that we’re in.”

Sam sat deep in thought for a few seconds, and then began. “Caro, it’s me that should be apologizing, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“Shut up already!”

Caro looked to her side to see if she could catch a glimpse of the bozo that was interrupting their fraternal moment. The absolute nobody was the gangster that had into possession of Caro’s shotgun, he had a hood on and most of his face covered with a mask in the shape of a beak. Caro would have spat on his silly mask if the angle accommodated for it, but before being able to think about what else she could do instead, she noticed the tall, muscular lady appearing behind him. “I already knew we were screw’d, buff lady. Just let us have it,” she said in a humorous, but decidedly defeated tone. In that instant, the buff lady got a hold of the hooded man’s head and twisted it almost a hundred and eighty degrees. Caro had only seen that shit in movies, and could only manage to spout in response a weak; “wha…?”

“What do you say, Harriet? Are these pibes more interesting than they seemed at first sight or what?” Said a familiar voice coming from behind the shocked and confused Crows. It was the voice of a man that didn’t speak the language of the country of the shooting stars natively. The man made his way through the crowd and presented himself before them, it was Alejandro, of course.

Before doing anything else, Alejandro and that lady, Harriet, began making short work of the remaining Grey Crows. They didn’t fight with the aesthetic sense of a martial artist, their movements were crude and forceful. Their bloody rampage went quick with precision, coordination, and bloody disregard for human life. Caro and Sam could only look in confusion at what was happening. And when it was done that man, Alejando, approached them and said; “muy buenos movimientos, so… Where are you from?”

“Why can you speak Marascino?” Asked Caro. Sam was looking at the floor, he knew that the situation didn't call for his usual demeanor so he let his sister do the talking.

“Answering a question with another one, cheeky brat. Yes, I speak a dialect of the ancient tongue, it's a long story. So you people came from across the border, I figure?” Answered Alejandro.

“It seems rather obvious to me, why else would you be at the gates of Monte Callado if not to escape the authorities. The real question is, how in the hell did you get here alive?”

“Willpower, sir. We are martial artists.”

“Oh, you don't have to mention it,” he looked at the mountain of bodies with a sly smile. “That much is evident. And how did you hear about the city?”

“From rumours, on some villages past the border. The rest was just desert crossing.”

“That's some detective work, not an easy journey either…”

Before being able to continue, Caro remembered the knife, “did you slip us the blade?” She asked.

“Oh, who knows how that got there, these bad gang members are quite careless. But if I had done that… it would mean you owe me.”

Sam struggled some against the ropes and grunted uncomfortably. Caro sh’d at him and whispered, “keep calm, Sam. Let me handle this.” And then she directed herself to Alejandro, “well, first, could you untie us?”

“Oh, I was waiting for you to ask. But my associate here and I would like to know a little thing first”

“What do you need to know?” Caro asked, she was ready and willing to do business.

“If you’d like to make some money, that is.”