34.
The hiking is getting harder, the angle of the climb steeper. The vegetation is also getting thicker so that the machete-swinging Rodney is soaked with sweat after only an hour of bushwhacking. I try to get a look at Leslie, who is walking so close behind me I can almost feel her hot breath on my neck. I know she needs water. We all need water. But the bandits want nothing to do with keeping us hydrated. They want us to show them the way to the mountain, but they also want to keep us as weak as possible. It’s standard operating procedure for a revolutionary band like Tupac, just as it was for Castro’s bandits many decades ago.
I always chuckle to myself when I see some kid walking the streets of Manhattan or Florence wearing a mayday-red T-shirt that bears the black-stenciled image o
