a single sharp motion. They ducked under the FIRE EXIT sign and pelted down the stairwell, round and round, feet slamming on the concrete stairs.
It would probably have been faster to use the elevators, but Nita didn’t want to get caught in them. If they froze or the power was cut, she and Kovit would be trapped, sitting ducks in a metal box.
The alarm blared, and Nita was near frantic by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs. They burst out the side door and ran for the street, hoping security hadn’t reached them yet and that they still had time to vanish among the crowds enjoying the evening in Puerto Madero.
The air outside was warm and muggy, even in the darkness of evening, and the sound of tourists chattering and the excited music of a violinist busking whispered through the air.
Nita grabbed Kovit’s hand and tugged him toward the water and the bridges that crossed over to reach the rest of Buenos Aires. The sound of an overpowered car engine roared closer, and a massive four-by-four shrieked toward the building, followed by several more.
Kovit swore, and the two of them sprinted for the safety and anonymity of the tourist sector. Surely they’d be safe with witnesses. Tácunan Law wouldn’t want to get the police involved.
They reached the main seawall and quickly vanished into the crowds.
She glanced back once and saw the men going into the building through the front door. She let out a long breath. They’d gotten away in time.
Beside her, Kovit’s shoulders relaxed a little. He lifted his head and grinned at her, and she smiled back.
Then she realized: he’d forgotten his sunglasses. His hair was a mess from running.
He looked exactly like the photo that had gone up online.
Her eyes widened, but before she could even form the words, she heard the sound she’d dreaded since he went up on the list yesterday.
“ZANNIE!”
It was impossible to see who’d screamed in the mad crush of tourists and locals. The whole mass of them froze, like the entire world had been put on pause. A woman in a Yale sweater held her umbrella in front of her like a weapon, and cell phones went up immediately, recording whatever was about to happen next. Panicked faces searched the crowd.
And all their gazes shifted to Kovit.
It wasn’t because he was the only obviously Asian person there, though maybe that was part of it. But in her panic, Nita had forgotten that Kovit’s clothes had been spattered with blood from the guard he killed, and they painted him with a bright red bull’s-eye.
“Fuck,” Kovit whispered.
Behind them, someone in the crowd pulled out a gun. People nearby saw and dove out of the way, clearing a straight path for the bullet.
Nita shoved Kovit to the side as the first shot went off. The moment after the shot was perfectly silent, like time had stopped, and all that was left was the ringing in her ears.
Then time started again, and she and Kovit stumbled sideways as the bullet smashed into a garbage can behind them, sending it toppling to the ground and rolling across the pavement, spilling trash as it went.
Nita’s and Kovit’s eyes met, and she whispered, “Run.”
And they did, pushing their already tired limbs to new speeds.
The pedestrians came out of their stupor as soon as Nita and Kovit started to run, and quickly divided into two camps. Those who ran screaming in the other direction.
And those who decided it was a good day to hunt a zannie.
The man with the gun was quickly joined by other people. Young men on Rollerblades, tourists in sun hats wielding selfie sticks like batons. Old and young, foreign and local, people began to mass behind them, a slowly forming mob of humans shedding their surface veneer for the once-in-a-lifetime chance to let their inner monsters free without consequences.
A hamburger flew through the air and smacked into Kovit, but he wiped it off and kept running, ketchup smearing across his face and mixing with the blood. A Rollerblading kid zoomed toward them, and Nita tripped him, sending the kid flying into the concrete barrier separating the walkway from the port. Blood spread red along the gray of the barrier, but Nita didn’t turn back to see the damage.
Ahead, a massive bridge with old, nonfunctioning cranes loomed, a chance to cross and vanish into the tumbling melee of the rest of the city.
Nita licked her lips and hissed, “Go. Run. Hide. I’ll hold them