There is no time to argue. I hear the rumble of his shoes on the grass as he speeds away. Rooster can't be too far from him.
I scramble to my feet and pull the gun out of my back pocket as I scan the wall as if I can see through it. Gillian touches me lightly on the shoulder. -This...?
She rings a third shot, interrupting what she was going to say.
Then a room. My heart clenches and I stare at the wall. I hold my breath and close my eyes, trying to hear footsteps. In the distance, footsteps can be heard moving away. Please, God, make it Charlie.
I try to grab the wall to pull myself up and face the other way, but Gillian pulls me down.
"We should get out of here," she insists, pulling me away from the wall. Checking that I'm not moving, she adds. Oliver, please.
"I'm not going to leave him.
—Listen to me, if you show your head again it would be like having a target drawn on your forehead. Nothing will happen to Charlie, he is ten times faster than Gallo.
"I'm not leaving him," she repeated.
—No one has said anything about abandoning him, but if we don't get out quickly from here...
A fifth shot echoes in the street. Startled by the noise, we both crouched down.
"How far is your car?" - I ask.
—Follow me.
He takes my hand and we run across the open courtyards. Halfway there, we pass the sliding glass door to Gillian's bedroom, which is exactly when DeSanctis's hand suddenly appears to grab Gillian's curly black hair.
"Ready for round two?" DeSanctis asks, looking stunned.
The right side of his face is covered in blood, and before she can even take a step out of the room, Gillian spins around and plunges her knee into his balls. DeSanctis falls heavily to the ground, and I hit him with the butt of the pistol, and we continue to run to the end of the yard. When we reach the wall, it's like a mirror image of the wall Charlie jumped over a few minutes ago, that is, until I glance to the left and see the black metal door interrupting the continuity of the wall. Between the bars is a card in a plastic bag: "Do not lock-Due to fire," he says in handwriting.
Gillian pulls on the bars and opens the door. It closes behind us with a clang and leads us into the parking lot of a low-rise apartment complex. As soon as we reach the street we turn left.
"This way," Gillian says, getting into her blue beetle, which is parked under a tree.
She turns the key and starts the engine. I look over her shoulder for DeSanctis.
"Come on, come on, come on...
-Where? she asks. —All straight. We will find you.
Momentum slams us into the seats as the car shoots off with a screeching of tires. We keep our heads down, in case we run into Gallo. But when we get to the end of the street—the corner Charlie was heading toward—no one is in sight. Not Gallo... not Charlie... not a soul. In the distance, sirens can be heard. The shots have alerted the police.
"Oliver, I really think we should…
"Keep looking," I insist, scanning each alleyway next to each pink house we pass. It has to be somewhere.
But as the car drives around the block there is nothing but deserted driveways, overgrown lawns, and a few palm trees whose leaves flutter in the breeze. Behind us, the sound of sirens grows in the silence of the night.
If it was me running away, I'd turn right at the next stop sign.
"Turn left," I tell Gillian.
I still know my brother. However, when we turn the corner the only person we see is an old man with skin as brown as shoe leather and a baby blue shirt from the fifties. He is sitting on the porch of his house, peeling an orange with a penknife.
"Have you seen anyone running past?" I ask as I lower the window glass and hide the gun.
He looks at me as if I speak... "Spanish," Gillian clarifies.
"Ah... have you seen a boy?"
The man does not answer. He continues to peel the orange. The police siren is almost upon us.
Gillian looks in the rearview mirror, knowing they are very close. She needs to make a decision.
"Oliver..."
"Wait," I tell him. Please, it's very important. He's my brother!
The old man doesn't even look up. "Oliver, please..."
Behind us, some tires they creak around the corner.
"Come on, let's get out of here." I finally give up.
Gillian steps on the accelerator and the wheels seek traction again to get the car moving. A quick right turn and a completely ignored speed limit turns the neighborhood into a pink and green blur. I look out the window, waiting for Charlie to jump out of the thicket and yell that he's safe. But he does not. I can't stop looking.
Beside me, Gillian reaches out and caresses the back of my neck.
"I'm sure nothing bad happened to him," she promises.
"Yeah," I say, as South Beach—and my brother—fade behind us. I hope you are right.
Had he arrived at the scene just ten minutes earlier, Joey would have been able to witness the entire scene: the red lights of the squad car, the uniformed cops opening the doors and running out, even Gallo and DeSanctis offering their prepared explanations to the crowd. light: Yes, we were the ones who were shooting; yes, they managed to escape; no, we can fix this issue without help, thanks anyway. But even when everyone had left—even with Gallo's rental car nowhere to be seen—it was impossible not to notice the yellow and black police tape covering the front door of the Duckworth house.