I get up on my hands and knees and crawl to Rose. She's not hurt, she's not hurt, she's not hurt. She throws her arms around me and recoils, wide-eyed, at all the blood on her hands. I'm not sure how much of it is mine.

"We have to get out of here," she says.

"Have to get the girls out," I rasp. You know you're in trouble when you stop forming coherent sentences.

I look back at Santiago. He's dead. He's fucking dead.

He looks...smaller than I remember.

Lily lies against the wall, clutching her belly. She's bleeding bad but it doesn't look fatal. Rose helps me up, grabs her girls by the arms and pulls them along. Karen is still looking at Santiago's body.

I kneel by Lily and almost fall down. I hate to do it but I have to pull her hand away. She's not gut shot, buy the look of it. The bullet mostly grazed her left side, but it's a bad wound and she's bleeding a fair bit.

Grunting with effort, I tear a strip of cloth from my shirt and wrap it around her middle, pulling it tight against the wound. She clutches the cloth and presses it in.

I try to help her and slump against the wall. Rose grimly pulls Lily to her feet and all four of them help me up.

"Women," I rasp, "can't leave the women."

"I'll take care of that," Lily says calmly. She's not talking to me anymore. She's addressing Rose. "Take my keys. Get him out of here. He needs medical attention. There's a first-aid kit in the trunk. Get some pressure on his wounds."

Rose snatches the keys.

"I have no idea who you are, but thank you," she says. "Come on, Quent. Girls, help us."

Rose gets under my arm on one side and Karen on the other, and I stumble with them back to Lily's car. I drop on the backseat and sit while Rose pulls out the first-aid kit and starts pressing bandages to my fresh cuts and one of the old ones that broke open while I was fighting.

Bandages aren't going to do the job. A couple of them soak through immediately. I'm getting lightheaded. Rose lifts my legs and Karen helps pull me into the backseat. Rose backs the car out and starts driving, clutching the steering wheel in shaking hands.

"I'm going to be okay," I grunt.

"You fucking better be," Rose whimpers.

Karen's eyes flash with momentary shock, that Mom-said-fuck look that kids get on their faces when their mom cusses. Kelly clutches her sister for dear life, shaking. Good God, these kids, what have I brought into their lives?

"It's a long way to the hospital."

"No hospital. Somebody'll kill me. I'll tell you where to go."

"Are you insane? Quentin, you're going to bleed out."

"Nah, I'll be fine. Just drive, Rose. Go where I say."

The next half hour is hazy. She takes a few wrong turns and it's my fault. I'm headed for one of Dale's places, from the list. There will be some gear there, medical shit. Rose gets visibly nervous driving into the city.

She looks panicky when she parks in the dusty lot behind the place and I drag myself out and lean on the car door to keep from falling. All three of them swarm me and usher me inside. Karen does up all five locks on the door and follows us up the stairs, hugging herself.

The place is above an old disused garage. Mechanic probably used to live here.

"You need a nurse or something," Rose says as I flop onto the couch.

"You'll do. I'll tell you what to do."

Rose looks at me wide-eyed. "I keep telling you I'm not a nurse."

"Welcome to nursing school. Please hurry up and do what I say so I can pass out."

Getting my shirt off is agony. Rose uses blunt-tipped scissors from the kit to cut away the legs of my jeans. I wince as she cleanses the wounds, and rest my hand on her back as she holds the hooked needle in her hands and forces herself steady.

"Karen, take Kelly in the kitchen and get her some food."

"But-"

"Now," I snap, too harshly.

Rose's eyes tear up as she guides the needle through my flesh.

"That's good," I tell her, trying not to let her see me wince. "You're doing fine, keep going. Keep the stitches together and tight."

"This is going to be a nasty scar," she says, clearly trying to distract herself.

"Chicks dig scars."

She gives me a flat look and keeps going, awkwardly but competently tying off the suture.

Great, only a half dozen more to go.

By the time she finishes the last one, Rose is growing fairly practiced.

"You lost a lot of blood."

"Yeah, I'm a little dizzy. Might be best to give me some. Check the fridge."

Rose gets up and leaves me there trying not to pass out, and heads into the kitchen.

"There's bags of blood in here. They're marked universal donor."

"Yeah, great. You'll need to start an IV first. C'mere."

Rose walks back out. "I have no idea how to-"

"I'll walk you through it."

I'm nervous as she prods my arm, but it's easy enough to find my veins. She wipes down the spot with alcohol and slips the needle in, badly. Under my direction she tapes it down and secures some tubing to my arm so it won't rip out, and sets up the IV.

Once it starts to flow I lie down on the couch.

"How long do we have to stay here?"

"I don't know," I sigh. "I'm not feeling so hot."

She brushes the hair out of my face. "Get some sleep."

I close my eyes. Something like sleep comes, halfway between wakefulness and drowning in the heavy dark of a deep sleep. Something wakes me, my body jerks, and I find myself lying on the couch covered in a blanket. Karen and the girls are sitting on the floor in front of it, watching an almost-muted television. Rose sits back so her head leans on my arm.

When she sees I'm awake she looks at me and rests her cheek on my shoulder.

Sleep grabs me again.

The next time I wake up, it's light out.

What is it, Monday?

I sit up, or try to. Rose pushes me back down. The kids are at the little dinette table by the kitchen eating cereal. Rose looks quietly panicked and sits down next to me.

"I'm not at work and the kids aren't at school. This is going to be trouble."

"I'll write them a note," I sigh.

Rose gives me an annoyed look. She's had a shower since I went to sleep. Her hair is damp, clinging to her neck.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I got in a fistfight with a cheese grater."

There's a knock at the door, and the whole room tenses, everybody going rigid.

Rose stands up. I sit up, wincing. Not much good I'll be, but I rise shakily to my feet. Rose looks at me and drops down the stairs, looks through the peephole, and slowly opens the door.

It's Lily. She presses inside, closes the door, and jogs up the steps.

"Well?" Rose says.

"I stayed close until the authorities arrived. They'll ID the cartel people, they won't ID Santiago, there are no records on him."

"What about the girls?" I rasp.

"Authorities are moving them out. Every three-letter is there right now, poring over the place. I think they even called in the FDA."

"Great," I grunt. "You're not going to try to kill me again."

"No."

"Then what are you going to do?"

She holds up a piece of dark cloth. It hangs from her fingers like a discarded skin.

Santiago's mask.

"There must always be a Santiago de la Rosa. He wasn't the first, you know."

She holds the mask in both hands. "I wonder if this is how he got it," she sighs. "Killed the one that came before him."

She extends her hands and offers it to me. "You deserve this more than I do."

"Get that thing away from me," I rasp, stepping back. "I'm not going to take over for Santiago."

Rose takes my hand.

"I'm out. I'm done," I tell Lily. "I'm not a killer anymore."

"Somebody needs to take over for him. Do you know what would happen if there is no more Santiago de la Rosa?"

"Somebody else will take the contracts," I sigh, lowering myself into the couch.

"Girls," Rose says, "go in the kitchen. Now."

Rose sits next to me and squeezes my hand.

"There's something else," Lily says. "Santiago has unique access to the criminal underground. Everyone knows him, he knows everybody, if only by reputation. The women in that warehouse aren't the only ones, you know. There's thousands of them, millions of them all over the world. Think of the horrible shit these people are involved with. Somebody on the inside..." she trails off.

"Sudden change of heart," I rasp, eyeing her.

She sits down on a side chair and fingers the mask in her hands. "Santiago de la Rosa was my life," she says softly. "He took me in when I was fourteen, raised me, nurtured me, trained me. Then I find out the whole purpose behind it was to get back at you. I'm just a footnote in somebody else's story."

Lily bunches the mask in her fist. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now? All I know how to do is kill people."

"You have some good ideas," Rose says softly. "Stopping criminals and helping innocent people. Why don't you do it?"

She blinks a few times. "Me, how could I-"

"You were trained by the best," I say, and slump into the couch.

"Nobody will believe I'm him."

"Why not? Ninety percent of the time he never met clients face-to-face. He took contracts and delivered proof and that was it. You could do that."

"You want me to keep it going, kill people."

"I want you to use it, from the inside." I shrug and wince at the movement. "Just like you said. The kind of info Santiago can gather..."

"I can't do it alone. I need your help."

"I'm out."

Rose squeezes my hand.

"If you help me, I'll help you," Lily says. "I'll keep them off your back. I'll start there. You won't have to look over your shoulder."