Drought Read Online Free PDF Page B

don’t
shoot
them!’ mimicked one of the hoods, in a falsetto voice.
    â€˜You hear me? I count to three, then I shoot!’
    â€˜Oh,
please
, Papa, please don’t
shoot
them!’ crowed the hoodie, and danced around in front of the counter with his arms spread wide, as if he were inviting Mr Alvarez to pull the trigger. At the same time, more hoods were crowding into the store from outside, at least another six of them. They swaggered down the aisles, pulling even more cans and jars and packages off the shelves so that the floor was littered with dented cans and broken glass and burst-open bags of flour and peanut butter and strawberry jelly. To add to the mess, they stamped on cereal boxes so that cornflakes and Cheerios were scattered everywhere.
    â€˜Water!’ shouted one of the hoods. ‘Get all of that freaking water, man!’
    Crouching low behind a Coca-Cola display unit so that the hoods wouldn’t see them, Tyler pushed Maria through the door at the back of the store and into the cramped little room which Mr Alvarez used as an office. They hunkered down on the floor next to Mr Alvarez’s battered old desk. It was unbearably stuffy and hot in there and smelled of stale cigar-smoke. Maria handed Tyler the phone and said, ‘Here, please, you call the cops, I can’t breathe!’
    Just as Tyler punched out 911, they heard a shattering
boom
! as Mr Alvarez’s shotgun went off, but it was immediately followed by hoots and shouts of hilarity. Tyler could only guess that Mr Alvarez had either missed the hoodie he was aiming at, or else he had simply fired his gun into the ceiling to try and scare all the hoods away.
    â€˜Oh, God,’ said Maria, pulling at the sleeve of Tyler’s T-shirt.
    â€˜
San Bernardino nine-one-one, what is your emergency
?’
    â€˜All of these guys have broken into the store, they’re wrecking the place. The owner has a shotgun and we just heard it go off !’
    â€˜
What is your location, caller
?’
    Tyler was about to tell the emergency operator where they were when the shotgun went off again, with a different sound this time, more muffled,
boooomfffff
! as if it had been fired into a pillow. There were more triumphant whoops, and this time they heard one of the hoods scream out, ‘Got him! Got the bastard! Fucking-A, man! Got the bastard!’
    Maria stood up and called out, ‘Papa!’
    Tyler grabbed at her arm and tried to pull her back down again. ‘Sshhh!’ he told her. But she twisted herself free and went back out of the office door and into the store. Tyler heard the hoods whooping and whistling again, and then he heard Maria scream.
    â€˜Papa! Papa! Oh, God, you’ve killed him! You’ve killed him you monsters you’ve killed him
you’ve killed him
!’ Her voice rose higher and higher in a hysterical scream until it sounded almost like a piercing whistle.
    In response, the hoods started laughing and cat-calling and mocking her. ‘You’ve killed him you monsters! You bad bad monsters! Look at my poor old daddy with his guts hanging out! No candy for you, you naughty monsters!’
    â€˜Hey!’ jeered one of the hoods. ‘Maybe we can learn her to
like
monsters!’
    â€˜Yeah, maybe we can give her a monster good time!
Monstaaaahh
!’
    â€˜Come on, baby, how about it, pretty baby? Come on, baby your Papa can’t help you now! What you crying for? Ain’t no use in crying, is there? You know what they say … no good crying over spilt guts!’
    There were more whoops and guffaws and Tyler heard Maria screaming, ‘Get off me! Don’t you touch me! Get off me, you monsters, let go of me!’
    Tyler slowly stood up. His heart was beating so hard against his ribcage that it was painful, as if somebody were rhythmically and viciously punching him from the inside. He could hardly move. If these hoods had already killed Mr Alvarez, and simply