24
Juárez, Mexico
In spite of the jet lag, Rios sat upright and wired in the passenger seat of the red Chevy pickup. Juárez was even more threatening at night. The one saving grace was the fact Pope wouldn’t notice the hanging naked bodies in the cover of darkness.
He followed her instructions, steering the Chevy through busy streets, with gangs on every corner and spies in every window. Rios felt a curious mix of emotions. On the one hand, the crackle of gunfire visible over distant rooftops made her feel at home. On the other, she wasn’t welcome here anymore.
Then again, was she ever?
In the blue-glow of the lights on the dash, Pope grumbled about the lack of streetlights and signs, the bad drivers and the lumpy roads.
‘I don’t see why you get to drive,’ Rios said.
‘I called it fi
