Vice and Ivo waited for the other kids to be brought up.
The difference was staggering once they saw them. Unlike the cowering kids with their sallow skin and haunted eyes, these ones, around ten of them, looked hungry for something other than food. Their hunger went a lot deeper than the hostage kid's, and the fear had long been driven out of them.
Among boys and girls they all carried weapons, small ones to match their size. But their eyes were already much older than their scant years. One in particular, a girl who shouldn't have been older than twelve, but who towered over the rest, gave him and Vice a hateful, accessing look.
Her gun was trained on them before anyone said a single word. "Just say the word, boss," she hissed, smiling through her chipped teeth. Her hair had been hacked into an approximation of Machado's mohawk. It was obvious she looked up to him.
Ivo smiled inwardly. She was their way in through to the other kids.
