Chapter 7

The lawman didn't look very brave, he was snorting like a bull. While the man in the Cadillac yawned with annoyance. He shrugged his shoulders, picked up a hammer and conscientiously, precisely, with all his might, smashed one of the other's knees.

The Sheriff nodded in despair, his face full of tears of rage, pain and humiliation. He would see how he would get out of it. That fool would pay for it, and in spades.

The man in the Cadillac placed a ledger in front of him and politely handed him the pen.

The sheriff began to write.

The man in the Cadillac checked and several times did not agree with what was written; then he convinced the sheriff, plugging the cable, with increasing intervals. Already the last two were in the chest nipples. With a didactic attitude he showed him an axe pointing to his testicles.The sheriff in the paroxysm of terror wrote it all down. The criminal events of the last two years. They were quite a lot. With names, accomplices, victims, addresses, bank accounts. He even wrote about the young Chinese girl that same night. 30 pages, endless, with uneven handwriting, and his fingerprint on every single page, including the copious carbon copies.

Finally the man in the Cadillac was satisfied. With a gesture he thanked him. Then he extracted from a beautiful wicker basket two huge poisonous snakes from the plains and threw them at him.

Sitting up, staring, he watched the snakes work on the sheriff.

When he finished convulsing in death spasms, he removed the handcuffs. He threw a blanket over the corpse and the two snakes next to it.

He got out, started the Ford Vitoria diesel police car. He saw the clock. 10 minutes to 5:00 a.m. He had almost 48 hours without sleep since he was killed. He had almost 48 hours without sleep from the time he arrived with his supplies to the Sheriff's death.

Everyone would be at that time at Edali's house. She would be sheltered. She drove to the gas station in town. He stopped the vehicle. She took the hose from the pump and filled the vehicle with diesel; then she broke the glass of the office store. He opened the pump again and the diesel jet began to spill out of the office. He retreated in the patrol car. He made a U-turn at the end of the block and stopped. He got out of the vehicle, put it in drive. He threw a lit tinderbox. For a moment he watched as the car headed straight for the gas station.

He began to walk limping down the street...The bar. Lonely. Not a truck. He crossed the street and heard the explosion behind him, lighting up the whole sector and a strong hot breeze swept the street.

Then, slowly in the Renault he started to drive away, heading for the A32 freeway. He would go again to the road stop. He would leave the Renault and bring the rusty old Chevrolet Holden with him. Of course he would send the letter. To the newspaper. To all the authorities. It would be a major brand "party".

He turned on the GLF 110 Am radio, country music. He hummed the excellent country music. The sun was rising on the horizon promising another day of hellish heat. I would have steak and eggs for breakfast. I'd take several sandwiches to the girl. And coffee.

After a while he arrived at the rest stop and saw the service dispatchers arriving.

--Hey, buddy. Full service for this grandma. Put on 4 new tires. General Tires please.

At ten o'clock in the morning, he returned to town. The smoky gas station was surrounded by many people. A very fat man stood in the middle of them. It was the GFL himself. He was talking to everyone. He looked calm among his hired assassins. He was not scared... Not yet...

He stopped the pick up and looked at them. They did look nervous. Agitated. The man was like a Roman consul giving orders.

--Nice to meet you, Mr. GFL,"-- Zacharias said, looking at the other man from his window. It was more than true that the whole town was watching Edali's pick up in full light. And they were looking curiously at the driver. He waved to several people. He let himself be seen... It was time for them to get used to it. Very calmly he moved along the avenue. He stopped the pick up at the store where it all started. He regretted that it was there. But he had to make some fame. He entered the store. He began with a basket to place knick-knacks.

--Listen, sir. Your money is no good here,--" reported the woman, watching as he, in the midst of the housewives, filled his basket with knick-knacks, candies and chocolates.

The woman came out of her counter and approached him.

--Please, sir. Don't make my life difficult. Go away,"-- she begged, genuinely frightened, and everyone knew about the "lesson.

--Here,"-- he said, taking out the card handed to her by the skinny man with the scarred face,-- "it's all paid for.

That said, he left the confused woman in the middle of the aisle.

Eating chocolate, he slowly took the road to Diamantes de Agua.

He drove, eating the cookies and chocolates, feeling the heat grow exponentially.

--Another hot day," --he insisted to no one, nodding as she hummed a little song in Spanish.