This is from Maria's Perspective
The sound of gunshots kept me awake again. Each time I managed to doze off, the sharp crack of a gunshot would jerk me awake, my heart pounding in my chest. I would look around in the dark. Slowly calm down and doze off just to repeat the process.
About halfway through the night, one gunshot sounded very close. My blood ran cold, and my skin crawled with fear. The noise was followed by a scream, a sound so full of pain, terror, and shock that it sent shivers down my spine. I sat up without realizing it, clutching the blanket to my chest as if it could shield me from the thing that was outside.
Rosalina bolted up as well. I couldn't see her eyes in the dark, but I was sure they were as wide as mine felt. The world seemed to slow down as the sound of the next gunshot rang out, followed by another scream. Time seemed to stretch and warp, and in that surreal moment, Rosalina sprang out of bed and ran out the bedroom door.
I was left sitting there, frozen in fear, the echoes of the gunshots and screams reverberating in my ears. The reality of our situation was closing in on me, and I knew that something had to change. We couldn't go on like this, living in constant fear, waiting for the next disaster to strike.
After who knows how much time, the realization hit me that Rosalina had run out of the bedroom. Panic welled up inside me, and I scrambled out of my bed, tripping over the blankets twisted around my feet. My heart was pounding, and my mind was racing as I stumbled into the hallway.
I arrived just in time to see Rosalina standing with Derrick in the doorway, both of them tense and alert. Then, without a word, after another shot, he bolted out the door, leaving Rosalina and me standing there, frozen in shock and fear.
In the dark, Sofia's voice reached me, trembling with fear and tears. "Mami, I'm scared."
I steadied my voice, trying to project calm and reassurance. "It's okay, kids. Lay on the ground in the middle of the room. Remember how Daddy taught you. Help little Emma and Michel if you can."
Sofia's voice came back, muffled but obedient. "Okay."
I smiled in the dark, pride swelling in my chest despite the terror of the situation. "Good girls, I'm so proud of y-"
My praise was cut short by two shots in fast succession.
My breath caught in my throat, and I shuddered.
Then, two more shots rang out, followed by two more, and then two more.
I stood there, paralyzed, my mind reeling as the gunshots continued. Rosalina was beside me, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. We were both trapped in this nightmare, helpless and terrified, waiting for the violence to end.
The roar of pain and anger that next echoed through the night sent a chill down my spine, and I clutched at the wall for support. Then, silence. An oppressive, heavy silence that seemed to weigh down on me, making it hard to breathe.
After a few minutes of nothing, Rosalina started moving around in the dark, gathering her medical supplies together. I could hear the rustle of bags and the clink of bottles as she prepared.
I stood in the hallway, frozen, waiting for something to happen. My mind was a whirl of fear and uncertainty, and I couldn't seem to make myself move. I just stood there, listening to the sounds of the night, praying for some sign that everything was going to be okay.
Another few minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity, and then the door opened, and light poured in. It was shocking after a few nights of darkness, and I had to shield my eyes for a moment, blinking against the sudden brightness.
Then I saw them. A group of men walked in, their faces pale and drawn, their bodies battered and bruised. Derrick was among them, his arm dripping blood onto the floor. A few of the men had gunshot wounds, and I could see the pain in their eyes as they limped into the room. Derrick's wound looked deep, and I knew he would need stitches that we didn't have. My mind raced, trying to figure out what we could do and how we could help.
I moved to Rosalina's side, my hands trembling as I helped her patch up Tome's cousins and Derrick as best we could. We burned through half the medical supplies Derrick had managed to get, and I knew that this was just one attack. There would be more. There would always be more.
This wasn't how I wanted to live. This wasn't how I wanted my children to grow up. Fear, violence, uncertainty – it was no way to live at all.
I glanced over and saw Gabriela peeking out from her bedroom door, her eyes wide and frightened. In a stern voice, I told her to go back to her room, but my heart ached for her. I needed to get them out of here.
That's when I remembered Gator's voice bragging about his cabin.
We were going there. With him. Without him. Instead of him. I clenched my jaw with determination. At first light, I was going to go and get us out of here.
The moment Tome took his last injured cousin out of the apartment, Rosalina slumped into a chair across from Derrick, exhaustion written all over her face. I didn't let them rest for long. My mind was made up, and I knew what we had to do. "We need to get out of here," I announced, my voice firm and determined.
They looked up at me, confusion in their eyes. Derrick shrugged, his face a mask of pain and tiredness. "Okay. Why?"
I sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. Didn't he see? Couldn't he understand? "I'm going to protect my children," I said, my voice rising with emotion. "You are welcome to come with me. Everyone is. But we can't stay here. We're going to go with Gator to his cabin."
Mrs. Allen's voice cut through the room like a knife, sharp and cold. "The fuck we are going anywhere. I'm not going to the sticks with a bunch of hicks."
I felt a flash of anger at her words, but before I could respond, Mr. Allen spoke up, his voice filled with anger and contempt. "Shut your mouth, you stupid bitch." He sat up from the pull-out couch, his face pale but determined. "Maria, I think you are right. I'm sorry, but I want to go with you and protect Emma and Michel."
I nodded gratefully at Mr. Allen's support and turned to Rosalina and Derrick, my eyes searching their faces for their decision. Derrick shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite his injuries. "If Boss is going, I'm going," he said, his voice tiered and flat, like it was obvious.
Rosalina's eyes met mine, and I could see the fear and uncertainty in them. "Maria, I don't have any more family other than you, Sof, and Gaby," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I'll go with you."
I nodded back, feeling a surge of relief and gratitude. "You guys should pack. We need to leave as soon as we can," I instructed, my mind already racing ahead, planning our escape.
I glanced out the window and realized that the sun was starting to come up. Time was running out. "I'm going to go talk to Gator," I announced.
Derrick's raised an eyebrow. "Want backup?" he asked, his voice having a hint of concern.
I looked at him, my eyes locked with his. "I won't need it," I said, my voice filled with confidence.
I turned, headed for the door, and marched across the apartment complex as people began to stir outside, scared and jumpy from the night's commotion. I reached Gator's door and took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. With a determined knock, I announced my presence, my mind focused, my resolve firm.
I knocked on Gator's door with determination. After who knows how long, the door swung open, and Gator stood there, looking angry and swaying slightly. "What do you want, Brownie?" he spat, his voice dripping with contempt.
I ignored his slur, my eyes fixed on his, my voice steady. "We are going with you to your cabin. It's not safe here, and we are coming," I stated, not a question but a declaration.
He shrugged and smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Gas, Grass, or ass? How are you paying?" he asked, his voice filled with mockery.
I glared back at him, my anger rising, and I didn't back down. "It's payment for your truck working, for Rosalina patching you up, and for us not taking the truck and leaving you here," I shot back, my voice filled with resolve. I wasn't veiling my threats, and I could see him take notice.
He leaned against the door frame, his eyes narrowing as he considered my words. "Huh. I'm not going to take you to my cabin," he said slowly, his voice filled with a strange mix of defiance and contemplation. He looked down, waiting for a reaction, but I just stood there, glaring, my mind working furiously.
"But," he continued, his voice softening slightly, "I'm sure the commie that lives in a town not far from my cabin will take you guys in. Your kind has a good reputation for cleaning things." He paused, and I could see something change in his eyes. "And I'll vouch for you. You are good people who will do well in the country anyway. Better than in this hellhole, at least."
I nodded, my mind still racing but feeling a glimmer of hope. "Okay, when are we leaving?"
He shrugged again, his eyes distant, his mind clearly elsewhere. "A couple of hours, I reckon. Before all the hooligans and ethnics wake up to riot again, but after, I can see the stuff blocking the road clearly."
I nodded again, my heart still pounding but feeling a sense of relief. "Sure. We will be ready," I said, my voice filled with determination.
By the time I got back to the apartment, there was a flurry of activity. Bags were being packed, belongings were being sorted, and the children were helping out as best they could. Rosalina and Mr. Allen stopped what they were doing and looked at me, their faces filled with questions and concern.
I nodded, my face set with determination. "We are leaving in a few hours. What can I do to help?" I asked, ready to dive in.
At some point, I realized that Tome was in the apartment, chatting with Derrick. He was expressing his gratitude, asking about what we were doing, his eyes wide with curiosity and concern. Derrick explained that we were leaving, and I walked up and added that we would have leftover food and he should take what he needed. We would take what we could, but we couldn't take everything. No point in it going bad.
I heard a rumble, and my heart leaped in my chest as I realized it was a truck. Derrick shuffled with me outside, and we saw Gator outside, looking impatient. He called out, asking if we were ready, and we acknowledged, telling him we would pack up as quickly as possible.
Tome helped us, his strong arms and willing hands a welcome addition to our efforts, especially with Derrick's injuries. We loaded up the truck quickly, leaving just enough space for us to fit into the camper shell.
In the end, as we were finishing up, Gator turned to Tome, his face serious, his voice filled with a strange mix of resignation and generosity. "Here you go, hombre. I have supplies I'm leaving. You can have everything. I don't think I'm coming back. You might as well use it."
Tome's eyes widened, and he asked, his voice filled with disbelief, "What do you have?"
Gator looked up at the sky, his face thoughtful, his voice distant. "Some guns, some bullets, some supplies, medical stuff, canned meat, seeds. You should plant those as soon as the weather allows it. Just look around. You'll find what you need."
Derrick and Gator took their places in the front, leaving the rest of us to squeeze into the back of the camper shell. It was tight, and the smell was far from pleasant, but we made do. The children complained, their noses wrinkling in disgust, but I asked them to tolerate it.
Mrs. Allen's hushed complaints reached my ears, but I ignored her completely, focusing instead on the journey. My heart was pounding, and my mind was filled with a mix of hope and fear. We were leaving behind everything we knew.
After about two and a half hours of slow, swerving, and bouncing in the truck, Gator slowed to a stop. We heard voices outside, talking about what we were doing and where we were going. After a few tense minutes, we started driving again, but at a snail's pace, as if we were navigating through some obstacle.
Then, we were back to normal speed, the truck rumbling along the road for about another hour. My body ached from the cramped position, and I could see the children growing restless.
We slowed again, stopped again, and more voices spoke outside. But this time, when we started moving, it was at that slow, cautious pace once more. My heart was in my throat, anticipation and anxiety warring within me.
Then, finally, we stopped, and the truck was turned off. The sound of voices reached us, distant and indistinct, followed by the crunch of shoes on gravel. The door swung open, and Gator's face appeared, "We are here," he announced, stepping out of the way to let us out.
I tumbled out of the camper shell, squinting against the bright sun, my eyes taking in the view before me. A beautiful lake stretched out before us, its waters sparkling in the sunlight, reflecting the clear blue sky above. Around us, on the side of the lake, houses and cabins were spread out, nestled among the trees, their wooden structures blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. Some were simple and rustic, others more elaborate and grand, but all exuded a sense of warmth and welcome.
Across the lake, I could see a town, its buildings huddled together, their roofs peeking out from the lush greenery. A church steeple stood tall, a beacon of faith and community. Shops and homes lined the streets, their windows glinting in the sun, inviting and friendly. None looked broken
The air was fresh and clean, filled with the scent of pine and earth, a contrast to the stifling, suttee, smokey, polluted air of the city we had left behind. Birds sang in the trees, their melodies a sweet serenade to this new beginning.