Bane of Blood: La Gorgona

III, Part 32

The city of Saguero wasn't much of one. Only in comparison to a place like Cortez. It was simply more crowded, somewhat less crumbling and sad. It was dingy and shabby. A mean-looking town. Dogs and derelicts scuttled about the streets, weaving among the working-class folk who trudged on by foot or sullenly biked, or puttered past in their varicolored jalopies, which belched black smoke against the advancing dark.

It was about nine in the evening when Fernando and the others arrived in what appeared to be the entertainment district of the city. There were certainly a good deal more shops, bars and restaurants here than in Cortez. El Mar seemed to be the most popular of these establishments—a two-story industrial building turned nightclub. Giggling gaggles of young women in skimpy dresses and high heels tottered toward the main entrance, already tipsy. Hopeful men of all ages pursued them.

Pedro drew to a stop by the curb. He'd pulled a flame-patterned shirt over his shoulders before they'd left like a conscious afterthought. His wife beater and cross chain glared broadly through the gap.

The truck had driven well. Fernando said so. Pedro grunted, spitting out the window toward the club.

"You get bored with this pussy-ass place, come to The Red Room."

"He's just saying that because he works there," Chico put in snidely.

Leaning past Fernando, Pedro shot him a glare. "Not just there, shithead, and not tonight." Leaning back, Pedro nodded to Fernando. "You want some real action, primo, you know where to find me."

As Lalo, Pepe and Tito clambered down from the back of the truck, Chico and Fernando got out of the cab.

"Lazy ass," Chico scoffed to him as Pedro drove off with a roar. Casting a mercenary glance over the chittering girls flocking toward the club, Chico grinned wolfishly. "No sense in paying for what you can get for free."

Chico turned back toward the other three, who were dusting themselves off from the ride. He eyed them over, as if re-assessing. His sharp gaze settled on Tito and Pepe.

"Ugly and goofy," he said with a sneer, "you two fuck off."

Pepe frowned. Tito stiffened. Drawing up beside Chico, Lalo snickered smugly.

"Fuck off?" Tito shot back, incensed. "Where are we supposed to 'fuck off' to?"

Chico shrugged. "Not my problem."

Tito flushed with such indignation that even his boils boiled. "What did you bring us along for if you were just going to ditch us?"

"I didn't think about it before," Chico said, matter-of-fact. "But seeing you here now I've realized what pussy repellent you are."

As Tito balled his fists and fumed, Fernando said to Chico, "Let them come along."

"Tch." Chico shook his head, turning back toward the club. "Have it your way, primo. You want to babysit these losers, be my guest."

As Fernando followed Chico and Lalo toward the entrance, Tito and Pepe flanked him. Tito glared into Chico's swaggering back.

"He's always busting my balls."

"Only because you let him," Fernando said.

Tito turned his glare upon him. "Easy for you to say. Chico practically worships you."

Fernando smiled, offhand. There were many things he could say to that, both cruel and true. Toward himself and Chico as much as Tito.

Settling somewhere in the middle, Fernando replied, "Saying things is always easy. It's doing them that's not. In the end that's all that matters. What you do and what you don't. Words don't count for shit."

Being all bark and no bite, Tito glowered at this pronouncement.

Catching Fernando's eye, Pepe nodded to him in wordless thanks. Fernando nodded back.