A Tearful Reunion

by Darrell Maloney

  “Either way that makes it more likely they’ll stop and challenge us. If for no other reason to satisfy their own curiosity.”

  “Very well. I yield to your experience, since you’ve interacted with them and I haven’t.

  “When Beth and Nellie and I came through here the first time we weren’t even allowed to leave the highway. They laughed at us. They said my rig looked ridiculous. And perhaps they were right.

  “But since we weren’t allowed to leave the highway we just went right on through.

  “I don’t remember them being as hostile as they appear to be now.”

  They passed the I-25 interchange and were more or less halfway through the city.

  A bit farther, on the left, was Tony’s neighborhood.

  Dave thought about leaving the interstate and driving the rig to Tony’s old house. They knew him there, Tony’s old friends did. They’d let him use Tony’s ham radio and he could check in with Sarah.

  But no. Sarah and Lindsey were okay. They were in good hands. Dave had more pressing things to worry about, the biggest being getting through Albuquerque alive.

  Tony’s neighborhood was on Hell’s Angels turf. Getting in and out of there was easy when he was with Tony, for Tony was granted free access to the entire city.

  Getting to Tony’s house after Tony was killed was easy because Dave was atop Tony’s Polaris. The Hell’s Angels recognized the ATV and recognized Dave as the guy who hung out with Tony.

  Now that the news of Tony’s death had spread throughout the city the Hell’s Angels would be like everybody else. They’d be on edge and geared for trouble.

  Even worse, they might blame Dave personally for Tony’s death and want to make him pay a heavy price.

  He’d resist the urge to visit Tony’s house. It would have been nice hearing Sarah’s sweet voice again, and to listen to Lindsey complain about having to do chores she felt were beneath her.

  Slowly they drove past each faction’s turf under the suspicious gaze of armed sentries.

  After Hell’s Angels territory came the Bloods, who formed a physical barrier between the Hell’s Angels and the Banditos.

  Dave wasn’t sure who made the decision, when dividing up the city, to put a buffer between the arch rival biker gangs.

  But he thought it was a good call.

  On the other side of the interstate, the Nortenos ruled. They had one of the biggest territories in the city, although he wasn’t sure why. It might have had something to do with their influence in the city pre-blackout.

  Or maybe, just as the Aryan Brotherhood took over the Dalton’s territory by defeating them in battle, the Nortenos gained more territory by defeating their own enemies.

  In any event, it was none of Dave’s business nor his concern. Again, he had better things to worry about.

  The first sign there might be trouble was the annoying knot which returned to Dave’s stomach.

  He didn’t know why it returned, or what it meant. But if his hunch was right he’d soon find out.

  He said a brief prayer that regardless of what happened to him, Beth didn’t have to pay a price for his decision to go through Albuquerque instead of around it.

  Dave knew he was in Luis Rivera’s territory when he started seeing cars spray painted “MS-13”

  Luis Rivera was the gang leader who suggested he might decapitate Dave and hang his head on the wall, so his men could throw darts at it.

  “We’ll make your eyeballs the bulls-eyes, and leave your head up there until it starts to stink. Then we’ll put it on a stick and put it out on the street corner.”

  He obviously didn’t make good on his threat, and Tony told him afterward Luis was bluffing. That he was all talk and no action.

  Tony wasn’t so sure.

  Especially after seeing other heads on stakes scattered throughout MS-13’s territory.

  Still, he’d gotten out of there alive before, so there was no reason to think he wouldn’t be able to pass the place by on his return trip.

  Or not.

  They’d seen the rig approaching from a distance.

  It was the only way to explain how they seemed to magically appear, from both sides of the roadway, to block his path.

  Dave immediately recognized the big one as one of Luis’ lieutenants, although he didn’t know the man’s name.

  He was one of the men who openly berated Dave when he was dragged before Luis, calling him bolillo or wedo.

  Both were derogatory terms applied to white people like Dave.

  Although he didn’t know the man’s name, Dave didn’t like him much before. In all likelihood he wouldn’t like him any more today.

  But he’d at least be friendly, in the hopes he could charm his way through.

  “So we meet again, Wedo. I thought you took your lily-white ass and headed for the hills.”

  “I did. But I missed you so much I cried myself to sleep at night. I just had to come back and say hello.”

  “Luis is not happy with you, Wedo. Do you want to know why?”

  This revelation took Dave by surprise. He’d certainly given Luis no reason to be angry with him.

  He took a shot in the dark.

  “Probably because my liquor business fell apart before it even started and he never got his tequila?”

  “Ha ha ha. No, Wedo. He’s angry with you because you failed to keep Tony alive. And Tony was an important man to all of us.”

  “Please give Luis my apologies. Tell him I assure him Tony’s death was as hard on me as it was anyone else.”

  “You can tell him yourself.”

  “Gee, I’d love to, ya know. But we’re on such a tight schedule.”

  “You misunderstand me, gringo. I’m not suggesting you tell him. I’m ordering you to tell him.”

  He turned back to his men and with a wave of his hand they surrounded the rig.

  “Stand up slowly and leave your weapons on the seat. Then go back with your old man and your kid and get comfortable on the mattress.

  “We’re going to see el jefe.”

  Chapter 48

  Luis’ office was exactly as Dave remembered it. Equal parts mess and clutter, with a whole bunch of dust and dirt thrown in for good measure.

  Luis was sitting back in a faded and worn desk chair, his feet propped up on his desk and smoking a fat cigar.

  The cigar was a little bit on the stale side, but it didn’t seem to bother him much.

  There was a rap on the door.

  “What?”

  He wasn’t necessarily in a bad mood on this particular day. Nor was he angry.

  It was his usual way of answering a knock on the door. His men all knew this and weren’t bothered by it.

  The door opened and in popped the head of the man Dave dealt with on the highway.

  “What’s up Joe?”

  “Remember that red pickup truck you told everybody to watch out for? The one being pulled by two horses?

  Luis looked at him but didn’t comment.

  “We finally found it. Or, it found us. It just came walking down the interstate right into our hands.

  “And guess who’s on it? That wedo who used to hang out with Tony.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Outside.”

  “Anybody with him?”

  “An old gringo and a little girl.”

  “Bring them in.”

  The door closed, then soon opened again.

  Dave, Sal and Beth were ushered in, flanked by two armed men.

  “Ah, gringo, we meet again. I thought they got you when they got Tony.”

  “No. Tony insisted on going in there alone.”

  “I suspected as much. Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “I couldn’t. He was very stubborn and hardheaded. He told me he was almost as stubborn and hard-headed as you.”

  Dave was taking a risk and hoping he could still banter with Luis, as he’d been able to do before.

  Dave was a big believer in the
“keep a man laughing and he won’t kill you” principle.

  Sure enough, Luis laughed and sloughed off the insult.

  “I remember that about him. It’s true.

  “How much do you know about his death and what happened afterward, gringo?”

  “I know they tortured him and he was still alive when they set him on fire.

  “I know I went in there to avenge him.

  “I know I was interrupted by a group of men… paramilitary men… who took over the fight and let me slip out of there.

  “Other than that, I know nothing at all.”

  “You know, gringo, I suspected that was you. When the Brotherhood went around bragging that their military wing took out the Daltons, rumors started to fly.

  “It was said there was another gringo, not affiliated with the Brotherhood, who was fighting alongside them. I even heard rumors that the lone gringo took out most of the Daltons before the Brotherhood even showed up.

  “Now, to hear the Brotherhood tell it, that’s total B.S. They don’t like sharing credit with anybody, you see.

  “Word is their exhalted ruler demanded they find the identity of the gringo. Not to thank him, mind you, but to kill him. For if they admitted to having help, they’d also be obligated to share the Dalton’s territory with whatever faction the gringo belonged to.

  “They don’t like to share territory any more than they like to share credit.

  “I’m sure you’ll agree with me when I say it’s a good thing the gringo slipped out when he did.”

  “No doubt.”

  “I’m glad the gringo survived. But I’m thinking maybe I should slap him upside the head for being so rude in my casa.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Luis nodded toward Sal and Beth, apparently wanting an introduction.

  “I’m sorry. I beg your pardon, my big yet homely friend. Luis Rivera, this is my father Salvatore. He goes by Sal.

  “And this little mini-me is my youngest daughter, Beth.”

  Luis made a grand show of shaking Sal’s hand, and actually bowed before Beth.

  “Welcome to my casa. Any family of my gringo friend is also a friend.

  “Can I offer you a drink? Some whiskey or tequila, perhaps?

  “Or maybe a can of beer. It’s just slightly out of date, but ice cold and still delicious.”

  Dave’s mouth watered, and he decided it would be rude to decline his host.

  Sal took a cue from Dave and followed suit.

  They both asked for a cold beer.

  The big man towered over little Beth, but went to one knee to bring his face closer to hers.

  “And you, little lady… when was the last time you had a glass of icy cold chocolate milk?”

  Her eyes grew as big as saucers and she said, “Really?”

  Luis looked to one of his men and nodded, sending the man running off to fill their requests.

  He turned back to Dave and said, “I understand you found the red pickup you were looking for. Does that mean you’ll start bringing me my tequila?”

  “I’m afraid not. Without Tony I wouldn’t have a chance of surviving a day in the liquor business. The first time I came around with a hundred cases of booze on the back of that truck somebody would slit my throat for it.”

  “Sadly, my friend, that is very likely true.

  “So what are your plans, then?”

  “If we can survive Albuquerque we’re going to make our way back to Kansas City. We’ll pick up my wife and other daughter and head south to San Antonio.

  “And then we’ll try to pick up all the pieces and put our lives back together again.”

  “Did anyone give you any trouble on the highway?”

  “A little. But nothing we couldn’t handle.”

  “Ah… but you still have several more miles and several more territories to drive past. Your troubles are far from over, I’m afraid.”

  “Luis, exactly what happened? Albuquerque wasn’t like this when I left just a couple of weeks ago.”

  “In a nutshell, Tony’s murder happened. And it changed everything.”

  Chapter 49

  “You see,” Luis continued, “the explosions and gunfire from the Dalton’s turf was heard near and far. But nobody knew what happened until two days later.

  “The Aryan Brotherhood used the extra day to gather up all the stragglers in the territory. All the Dalton’s Raiders who were spread all over the place and not involved in the battle.

  “Some of them were executed as cowards because they were close enough to run to the battle and reinforce their side but chose not to do so.

  “Apparently the military wing of the Brotherhood is made up of veterans and they don’t cotton much to cowardice.

  “Those who were executed had their heads cut off. They placed the heads on stakes and painted them yellow to remind others not to follow their example. They posted the stakes in a nice straight line just outside of AB Headquarters.

  “They gave the rest of Dalton’s survivors a choice. They could sign on with the AB or they could leave Albuquerque within twenty four hours.

  “All except for the eight Mexicans who were Dalton members. They said they didn’t want ‘em. Stupid honky bastards. We Mexicans are the fiercest fighters of all. Look at the Alamo.”

  Dave almost held his tongue but couldn’t resist.

  “Santa Anna lost almost four thousand of you guys at the Alamo.”

  “I said Mexicans are brave, not smart. Besides, we won in the end.”

  “Good point.”

  “You want me to continue, or are you gonna keep interrupting me?”

  “Sorry. Please go ahead.”

  “They planted the confederate flag all over Dalton’s turf and claimed it as their own.

  “That made several of the other factions a bit upset, because they were planning to attack them themselves. As far as I’m concerned, the AB was the first to the dance, therefore they should get the prettiest senioritas. They struck first, so they deserve what they got.

  “I’ve got no beef with them for taking the land.

  “My beef was with the Daltons because when they took out Tony they caused all kinds of chaos around here.”

  “Like what?”

  “Tony had good dope. Even the people who didn’t like him because he was a wedo admitted to that.

  “He used to be the only one everybody bought from. It was consistent and it was pure and it wasn’t cut.

  “And people didn’t die from it.

  “When they killed Tony they created a vacuum. Other dealers started coming out of the woodwork.

  “They said their stuff was good, but it was hit and miss.

  “The potency wasn’t consistent. People were shooting up with the same amount they used a week before to get a weak high.

  “And they were overdosing.

  “Some of the dope was cut with bad stuff. You know the quickest way to get a dope dealer killed?”

  “You send him in here so you can talk him to death?”

  “Shut up. No. You get ahold of some of his dope and cut it with something really nasty. People die. And those people’s people get the dealer and make him die too.

  “There was one dealer… Garza was his name. He was pretty good. Not as good as Tony, but he would have been a passable replacement. His stuff was pretty good and pretty consistent.

  “But the third or fourth time he made the rounds, six of his customers overdosed. Terrible deaths.

  “Rumor was the stuff was laced with powdered cleanser.

  “The next time he came around somebody slit his throat.

  “That scared all the other drug dealers away. They figured if somebody as good as Garza was gonna get killed for dead customers they eventually would too. Because a lot more of their customers died in a given week than Garza’s.

  “Now the rumors are really going wild.

  “Since all the dopers that overdosed on Garza’s dope were either Crips or Bloods or 34t
h Street Boyz, the blacks are convinced the Mexicans are trying to start a race war.

  “The Aryan Brotherhood has been stoking that fire, spreading rumors MS-13 went to them and wanted help to get rid of the blacks but they passed.

  “That much I can testify to was all bullshit. If we wanted to get rid of the blacks we’d have hooked up with the Nortenos and Banditos and done it without whitey’s help.

  “The real truth, and I have it from a good source, is that Garza’s old lady spiked his stuff herself. She was sleeping with his best friend and they wanted him out of the way. But they didn’t want to anger his family. So she spiked his merchandize knowing that if several people died their people would take him out.

  “And that’s exactly what happened.”

  Chapter 50

  Luis stopped just long enough to pour himself a double shot of tequila.

  Then he picked up where he left off.

  “So now Garza’s family went after his best friend, who was one of the biggest meth cooks in the city. They’ve threatened to kill him when they find him, so he’s laying low.

  “And while he’s laying low nobody’s cooking his meth.

  “The drug dealers have all gone on vacation until they think it’s safe to go back in. They don’t want to get killed like Garza did, or robbed of their first shipment by somebody who’s going through withdrawals and doesn’t want to get caught short again.

  “All over Albuquerque hundreds of hard core dopers are all going through withdrawals at the same time.”

  Dave wasn’t sympathetic.

  “Won’t it be good for them in the long run if they get clean? Even if they’re forced to do it?”

  “Dave, you’re not listening. Hundreds of junkies, going through withdrawals at the same time.

  “Picture a whole football stadium of women, all PMSing at the same time.”

  Dave got the picture.

  “Oh.”

  Luis leaned over and whispered into Beth’s ear, “Excuse me. No offense, sweetheart.”

  Beth didn’t have a clue what he was talking about and just shrugged.

  “So, that problem is bad enough all by itself.

  “But the Crips and Bloods and 34th Street Boyz are convinced the race war is starting any day now, and the Mexicans are ganging up to come and kill them all in their sleep.