“It seems one of the helicopters we’ve heard flying over is a local TV crew. The reporter and the cameraman just came here—that’s why I was called to the door.” Tom nodded, not sure why it was a problem or what it had to do with him. Even with the little distance that already existed between the present and their ordeal, he could see that there’d be massive media interest in this story, that they’d all be famous for a while once they got back home. The priest could see his confusion and shook his head regretfully. “They asked for you, specifically. They wanted to talk to you about the cocaine factory.”

“I see.”

He saw that Joel and the others had already talked to the reporter. Or to the politician. The important part was that they’d talked, and would continue to talk, because that was what they did.

And because of that, Tom also saw so much more, the way in which this journey home would never quite come to an end. There would be official interviews, and press interest, and endless speculation. They would never quite make it back to the real world, because this would be their new reality, and part of that would be the cocaine factory and what he’d done there.

“So… it’s true, what they were asking about?”

Tom nodded. “Two of the boys in the other house, they were caught, and… there’s no way of making this sound good so I’ll just say it. I killed them all. I don’t know, maybe half a dozen men. I killed them all. It was the only way I could see to save Joel and Chris.”

“But how? You’re just a boy yourself.”

“I blew up the bunkhouse. The two who were with Joel and Chris, one of them basically ran onto the spear I had, the other I shot with a flare gun.”

Father Francisco stared at him, barely able to conceal his astonishment. “And how do you feel about that?”

Tom thought of the young guard, the final evening of his life spent sitting on watch, miserable, probably imagining a better future for himself. “I don’t know what else I could’ve done.” A pause, then he remembered the one good thing to come out of that situation. “It’s where Perro came from.”

The priest put his hand on Tom’s shoulder and said, “It’s a shame you’ll be leaving soon, but when you get home, it’s important you have the chance to talk about this. I don’t mean to the media, I mean to a counselor or a doctor… even a priest.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“And you need to prepare yourself for the press to lie and exaggerate. Even just now, one of the reporters said he’d heard you were completely out of control and dangerous.”