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Alfonso Mendoza’s compound, Mexico
The sound of an explosion penetrates my hazy consciousness. I crack my lids open, but I can’t see anything other than darkness. The ground under me shudders as several more detonations go off somewhere close by, then, a cacophony of yells and screams add to the overall mayhem. Everything in me wants my eyes to stay open, but they keep shutting as if my lashes are weighed down with lead.
Automatic gunfire. Coming closer. More screams, shouts. I’m guessing one of Mendoza’s rivals is attacking the compound. Whoever it is, or whatever else may be going on, I don’t particularly care. My mind wants to return to the dream I was having before the noise chased it away.
A stand, laden with vegetables, and a beautiful woman lifting various greens for me to smell.
It seemed so real that I could almost inhale the pungent scent of dirt, but for some reason, I couldn’t recall her name.
I know her.
I know her very well.
My heart beats faster each time I see her. She’s always in my dreams. But lately—the past few days, or maybe it has been weeks—her name escapes me. Every time, it’s at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t remember it.
The echo of running footfalls. More gunfire, closer now. I push it all away, slipping back into my dream.
I’m sitting on a roof, the woman is snuggled into my side. Her hair is tied up at the top of her head with a red scarf.
What is her name?
“Holy Mother Mary, Jesus, and Joseph,” a male voice says somewhere near me. “East corner. Get your ass over here. Now, Az.”
Another voice joins shortly after, but I block both of them out, trying to hold on to the vision in my mind.
A soft female voice, saying something next to my ear. It’s her again. Reading to me. Something about . . . cows?
Her name, what is her name . . .?
“Hold him down. I don’t want him going berserk thinking I’m an enemy.”
Hands grab my legs, the sensation dissolving my dream, just as I almost grasped it. I flip over, hitting the distraction with my foot. I want my dream back!
“Jesus fuck! I told you to hold him down, damn it!”
Something heavy lands on top of me. I roar and headbutt the son of a bitch who planted his ass on my chest. A sting of a needle in my thigh. I thrash around, trying to get the man off me.