Eve’s heart pounded with fear. She saw Jonathan run for his gun, and yell to her, “Call the cops, Eve!” And to Peter, “Here, we need to arm ourselves. Let’s go, Peter.”
Eve grabbed the phone and spoke to the voice on the other end, relaying what she could see from her front window. She watched as Jonathan and Peter rushed outside to join the crowd of neighbors that had already congregated in the street. Jonathan pushed his way through the people, exposing the slain body with blood draining from its head. Eve went to the front porch where she could get a better look, the incident had happened in front of her home. She heard her husband take the lead, she could hear the alarm in his voice. “What the hell happened?” Jonathan looked around the group. Each was armed, ready to protect their community. “Somebody speak up. The cops will be here soon and I need to know what the story is.” Jonathan used the barrel of his beloved Winchester 94 along with his foot to roll the body over.
Eve couldn’t see beyond the forms standing around the scene. She finished the call and walked toward the site, looking between the people, peering through the thin aisle they’d made. She wanted to get a glimpse of the body. Finally, she was close enough to recognize the person, the bloody face of the woman lying in the street.
“Conchita!” Eve fell to the ground, screaming from a source deep inside her gut. “No! Not Conchita. Oh God!”
Eve felt someone lifting her, it was Peter. He had his arms around her and attempted to lead her back to her house. His touch made her made ill, cringe. She fought him. “Get your hands off me!” She flung her arms at him attempting to repel him. She was fighting him again, the memory of the rape fierce in her mind. He became angry with her and dug his fingers into her skin as he forged on to the house where he handed Eve over to his wife. He then returned to the crime scene. Eve heard the siren. Looking up, she saw the blur of blinking lights through her wet eyes.
The uniformed men stepped out of the car to inspect the incident. “Who’s in charge here?”
Eve saw Jonathan step up to take the lead. “Officer, this woman was walking through the neighborhood, it was an honest mistake. We take care of each other here and to see a Border Bunny at this hour, well…” He laughed. “You can understand.” Eve winced at her husband’s words. Conchita was a woman, her friend. Jonathan knew her and yet, he spoke as if she wasn’t human.
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