One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 8, page 9

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Pí‘oro Kılímo swung open the door to reveal a tall blond man in a black uniform with two paramedics behind him. In the kitchen, a door latch clicked shut. Was someone back there?

The Colonial Enforcer--the same one who had questioned him before--stepped through the doorway, grabbed Pí‘oro, and spun him around.

“Take it easy, son,” snapped Pí‘oro, almost losing his balance.

“Raise your arms,” the young officer commanded, tugging Pí‘oro’s wrists away from his body. “Do you have a weapon on you?” He patted Pí‘oro’s down jacket, starting with each arm and working his way down.

“No,” growled the old man. “You already took my rifle. When can I get that back?”

“Probably never.” Lieutenant Nıgédazo moved down to Pí‘oro’s torso, slapping hard with both hands.

Pí‘oro snarled. Here he was, being roughed up and probably arrested for crimes he didn’t commit, and the real criminal was on the loose.

The Enforcer’s hand stopped at the bottom of the jacket, pressing a hefty lump against Pí‘oro’s side--the box of rifle ammunition.

“What’s this?” He jabbed a sharp corner into Pí‘oro’s flesh.

“Bullets for my gun. Take them. No good without my rifle.”

The policeman yanked them out of the pocket, ripping fabric in the process.

“Watch it, son. There’s no need.”

Lieutenant Nıgédazo shoved Pí‘oro against the wall with a thud, slamming his cheek on the drywall.

“There’s every need,” hissed the officer into Pí‘oro’s ear. “An Enforcer’s been killed.”

Pí‘oro groaned. They were going to ransack this house. He had to stop them before they found the chapel. He had to stop them before they arrested Vata.

“Excuse me,” said one of the medics, still in the front door. “Where’s the victim?”

If Vata had completed the ceremony, there was no victim. The medics would be useless.

The Enforcer’s radio coughed static. “The garage is clear. Proceeding to only interior door.” Another burst of static.

Was another Enforcer in the house--in the garage? It sounded like he’d be entering the kitchen. They usually left that door unlocked.

“The victim’s somewhere in here,” barked the lieutenant pinning Pí‘oro to the wall. “I saw this one carry him in. Search the house.”

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