Chapter Text
A speckling of twilight clung to the skies as the roar of the city echoes in the evening, a shadow of its former self just mere hours earlier. A scattering of people hurried about the streets of the old town district of Pueblo, Colorado, keen to ensure they had secured their safety for the night. Before the darkness fell, before the shadows spawned. Ragged neighborhoods, some full of boarded homes and run-down trailers fell into darkness, and a cat growled in an alley, a loud crash followed. A pair of dogs barked furiously at anything wandering towards their way, trained to keep others away from places that someone didn’t want to be found.
All of the commotion and danger didn’t slow Samuel as he cautiously walked the streets of Old Town, glancing over his shoulder periodically to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Generally, nobody was too interested in what a twelve-year-old boy was doing in the neighborhood at this time, after all, they had little to offer, at least, those of his class. To Samuel, this was his life, every day, but he knew he still had to be careful.
To his right walked Miguel, the only friend he had. He met Miguel two years ago, wondering the streets, waiting while his guardians duked it out again, whether that was just through words or physically, that had depended on the day. Miguel found Samuel, needing someone, and Samuel needed Miguel, needing a friend. It began as a mutual friendship and had grown from there. Sure, Miguel offered little to Samuel, when but you have nothing, something is all you need.
“Hey Samu, do you want to go see that new Avengers movie coming out? Joshua can get us in If you want, if you are free on Tuesday,” Miguel asked.
“Are you talking about Thunderbolts? Yeah, that movie looks high-key solid. They aren’t going to let us in there though,” Samuel replied, placing his hands in his pockets. “Anything to get away from Jorge. That fucking prick always wants to start something with me when I get home.”
“You shouldn’t take his shit, man. Fight back,” Miguel countered. “Fuck that guy, why is your madre even with him still?”
“Because he brings in money, and we need somewhere to stay,” Samuel explained. “I hate him, but until my mom can find work again, we have no choice.”
Miguel looked away, studying the old garment factory that they walked past, lost in thought, looking at the graffiti on the side of the building. Samuel wondered if his friend could even read it. The last time he asked his friend to read something, he couldn’t believe how ineffective the ten-year-old boy was. Not that Samuel was a model student himself, but he at least managed to keep his grades above from failing. He knew better to do that, that meant being stuck here one more year if he failed.
“Let’s go see on the roof of the old Ruckers building again. I bet we can get in from the top and find some cool shit this time,” Miguel finally continued. “I heard they have some old machinery in there even.”
“You heard wrong, I’ve been told there isn’t anything in there. They aren’t leaving anything worthwhile in there, they took it down south with them, or at least that’s what mom says. It’s getting late, and I have homework to do. Mom will kill me if I stay out late. She hates when I’m out this late.”
“Then why are you?” Miguel asked.
“Because I don’t want to see that prick tonight. He leaves around 8:00 for work,” Samuel stressed, feeling somewhat aggravated. “I guess I’ll head there now though.”
“Can I come? I don’t want to go home,” Miguel asked as he stopped, looking at this friend. “Please Samu, you know I’m cooked if I go there tonight.” Samuel shook his head as he looked down, frustrated. He wanted to say he didn’t want at his place tonight. He didn’t want to share his room with a kid who always had that certain scent about him. He also knew that Miguel would end up wearing his clothes and always ended up wearing one of his better outfits to school since he never brought spare clothes. But he knew that he couldn’t resist saying no to him. After all, where else did he really have to go? As bad as Samuel had it at times, he knew the young boy trailing him had it much worse, and there was nobody in this world that was going to make either of their lives better anytime soon.
“Fine, but we better hurry. Los Surenos sometimes come down this way, and I don’t want to mess with them tonight, Samuel remarked, looking around after another distant clang erupted to his right.
There was the screeching of brakes from a car in the distance, and he heard people yelling from an apartment complex near his right. He heard a siren in the far distance, steadily getting louder.
“Is it true that they take boys? That’s what mama says,” Miguel asked, shuddering. “I didn’t know they were back.”
“They never left, just laid low a while, and no idea, but I don’t want to find out,” Samuel stated. He saw a couple walking outside by their run-down home, it’s foundation caving in. He thought he smelled smoke momentarily, not the usual smell of tobacco smoke or marijuana smoke, but something different. He heard another distant siren in the background, wailing more and more loudly, closing in. the boy looked around, feeling chills run down his spine. Something didn’t feel right. Samuel finally found his voice, “Something isn’t right, Miguel. Let’s vamos.”
The two boys clung to the shadows but hurried. Samuel knew this route by heart, being he saw things on this street that no boy his age ever should see. He had learned to survive, by being tough, but mostly be being invisible. The duo crept their way through another neighborhood, this one as decrypted as the previous. Pueblo had its good parts for sure, and downtown was a safe haven compared to the other parts, even a good place many will say, great for regional tourism for those wanting a taste of the dry habitats of Southern Colorado, where scant towns stood and survived off of little to nothing. But they were far away the life of what the safe areas of Pueblo offered. Crime continued to plague the city with no end. Last year, his mom’s car was broken into, despite it being barely functional with next to nothing left inside. Last fall, there had been a shootout in his neighborhood, and word had it, it was a deal gone bad. Just another day in these parts.
“Hey Samu, can I sleep with you tonight por favor? don’t make me sleep on the couch again, it gets cold and scary in that room,” Miguel asked as they rounded the corner of another neighborhood.
“No way, you wet the bed last time you slept with me. You’re lucky I still let you come over after that,” Samuel proclaimed. “Why do you that anyways? You’re ten now, it isn’t hard to get up and go piss.”
“I don’t mean too Samu, and I haven’t done in forever. I don’t feel it, I guess. Please don’t make me -” the younger boy stopped as the sounds of siren immediately blared as a fire truck quickly made its way down the street. “Hey Samu, that truck is heading toward your neighborhood.”
“It’s nothing, probably another stove fire or something in the complexes,” Samuel speculated. He was wondering about the constant smell of fire and ash that had only grown stronger as they closed in on
their neighborhood. He recalled a home on the end of his street going up in flames just two months ago, a stove fire that engulfed the home during a rare cold spell of winter weather. It had warmed though as spring crept its way forward though.
“So, I can sleep with you? Please, amigo?” Miguel pleaded.
“I guess, just try to not to piss on me again,” Samuel grunted but couldn’t help to hide a sly grin. “You big baby.”
“Well, don’t snore this time, and we are even,” the younger boy pushed back, grinning. Samuel couldn’t help but laugh, placing his arm around his friend. They walked onward, entering the neighborhood. Within minutes, Samuel’s throat began to tighten, and his heart quickened. The sirens grew louder, and the smell of ash grew stronger.
“Let’s hurry,” Samuel stated. The boys began to run down the road in the direction of Samuel’s home. He heard Miguel beginning to pant, as the smell of something putrid filling the air. Each boy covered
their noses with their shirts as the smell of something metallic continued to grow. Samuel’s eyes watered as the smoke burned his senses. He began to panic as he rounded the corner to his home street. Sirens grew louder with every step. He finally saw the outline of flames to his right, glimmering in the early-night sky. He froze. He then screamed before sprinting to the source.
“Samu, wait up!” a voice echoed from behind. Nothing clicked to the young boy. His fears that had become stronger and stronger had finally enveloped him, and then, as he turned the last corner before he came home, he saw it.
The one-story, bricked home had stood there for decades, or at least that was what he had been told. Passed down from Jorge’s parents to him, giving Samuel and his mother shelter from the winter that they had just overcame. It was always one of the better homes in the improvised neighborhood of Pueblo, and it stood out somewhat as a beacon to the others who lived in less. But tonight, that beacon was gone, consumed in a blaze of fury that swept the night sky. Countless lights were visible and flashing, causing Samuel to lose himself. As he ran to what once was his home just hours ago, he felt his vision darken. He screamed as he raced to the dreaded scene.
“¡Mami! Mamita!” Samuel shouted. He began to wheeze, his senses failing. “Mamita! Where are you!”
“Samu, wait!” a voice faded from behind. “Don’t get any closer! That smell!”
“Hey kid, stop right there!” another voice, this one, to his left, bellowed. Samuel pressed onwards, the flames less than a hundred yards away. His throat closed, and he lost his vision, but he stammered on before finally stepping back. The smell of death filled his nostrils, like a mix he never experienced before. He took one final step forward before collapsing on the ground, as everything went black.