Gone (Michael Bennett)

cartel were brought into the tent from the house. Salinas had a black eye. All three had their wrists bound behind them.
    Three chairs were set at the edge of the stage, and the three men were seated with their backs to the crowd.
    “Now, without further ado, the moment we’ve all been waiting for,” Perrine said as one of the Tarahumaras handed him something long and thin.
    The sickle-shaped, razor-sharp machete Perrine held up for the crowd to see had been his father’s cane knife. The antique blade was beautifully weighted behind the cutting side, like a golf club, and had the manufacturer’s stamp engraved in the blade, above the handle: C OLLINS A XE C OMPANY , C ONNECTICUT , USA.
    They just don’t make ’em like this anymore , Perrine thought, hefting it lovingly.
    The first man he stepped before was Salinas’s second-in-command. The man had actually undone his binding, and he threw his hands up protectively as Perrine swung. No matter. The blade sliced the man’s arm off neatly midway between his wrist and elbow and buried itself deep in the man’s collarbone.
    Several women in the crowd fainted as the man screamed, blood spurting as he waved around his amputated stump. Perrine, after two tugs, finally worked the blade free. Then he stepped back and swung.
    There. Much better , Perrine thought as the man’s cleanly severed head rolled off his shoulders and off the stage.
    That was when the second man kicked himself off the stage. It was the plaza boss, who actually thought he could take over Perrine’s turf in Río Bravo. He managed to make it halfway across the dance floor before Perrine nodded to Tomás. Half a dozen automatic rifles cracked at once, cutting the man down. He slid across the dance floor in a thick trail of blood, followed by his Bally shoes.
    Perrine had to tip his hat to Teodoro Salinas. The man didn’t flinch in the slightest as both of his partners lost their lives. The big, handsome man looked like he might have been waiting for a bus as Perrine stepped forward. Perrine nodded respectfully, then swung and took the elegant host’s head off with one swipe.
    As his enemies bled out, Perrine turned toward the crowd. His face was covered in blood, his linen uniform, the blade of the cane knife. The women who were still conscious were completely hysterical, the sound of their babbling moans like that of people speaking in tongues.
    Perrine lifted the fallen microphone.
    “Please. I know all this is shocking, ladies and gentlemen, but facts must be faced,” Perrine said, waving the dripping cane knife for emphasis. “These men thought I was defeated. They thought because I was in hiding that I was no longer valid. That they could take what was mine.”
    He turned and looked at the dead men behind him and smiled.
    “Has anyone ever thought more wrongly? I cannot be defeated. I cannot even be diminished. The good news is, you are not as obstinate as these here, whom I have been forced to punish. The good news is that now, with the last of our detractors eliminated, we are one.”
    Perrine smiled.
    “Don’t you understand? We all work for Los Salvajes now. We have ambitions that transcend mere Mexico. In the next few weeks, you will see what I am talking about. I know this is a sad moment. You see this now as butchery, I can tell.
    “But soon, you will change your mind. Soon, you will see the opportunity I have given you. You will come to realize this isn’t the end but the beginning, and you lucky few are being let in on the ground floor.”
    Perrine checked his Rolex.
    “Does anyone have any questions? Comments?”
    He looked around. Not surprisingly, the only hand he saw was at the end of the disembodied arm lying at his feet.
    “Excellent. All relevant parties will be contacted in the next few days with instructions,” Perrine said. “You are all free to go now. Have a nice day.”

CHAPTER 8
     
    THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, WE’D just done the milking at Cody’s and were getting out of the vehicles back at our place when we saw dust rising in the distance to the north. By the main road, a light-blue sedan I didn’t recognize was approaching slowly.
    Immediately, I could feel my heart start to pound. Despite our new, peaceful rural existence, I hadn’t forgotten our situation for one second. Besides the mailman, we’d had exactly no visitors at all.
    “Guys, inside, now. Seamus, Mary Catherine, go get them,” I said immediately.
    “Yeah?” Seamus said, looking at