Green Desert - Chapter 2.6.3 - Fírí

The garage door stood open. The towtruck sat behind a white minivan and a shiny tan sedan. But those cars would be moved in a minute or two. Evidence. What evidence did we have in the car? My suitcase I already got. But Zhíno’s shit.

My heart pounded. The police would show up any second and the gangsters just after them. I yanked open the back door and threw out Zhíno’s duffel bags, bits of window glass falling off and tinkling on the cold cement floor. The bags landed on a stack of old newspapers, tipping it over and spewing papers across the floor, under the car.

The trunk.

I opened it, put the keys back in my pocket, still in the shadow from the hot midday sun. I sweated like a pig. Cardboard boxes, closed, full of guns and explosives and Píníno-knows-what. If Gogzhuè didn’t get it today, we were dead. They were fucking going to kill us.

I heaved out the first rattling box, practically throwing out my back, and dumped it against the wall beside the garbage cans. The next box wasn’t any lighter. My hands shook. The police or the thugs would show up any second now. And then I was a dead woman.

Another fifty-pound box, on top the other two. And a fourth. The heat seeped into my pores, draining me, sapping my strength. My tshirt soaked through. My sweatpants stuck to me. A fifth box. Three more. My chest heaved. I wiped my brow with the back of my hand. I grabbed the next box, lifted.

Out of the corner of my eye, flashing green and red lights.