“We found the army,” Tom told Sisson when he had crawled back.

“Damn. Followed us right into Mexico.”

“They must want us awful bad.”

“Maybe,” Sisson said. “Maybe.”

“Why else would they follow us?”

“They don't want Thems to hang us.”

“Don't seem like that would matter. They're in Mexico, where they ain't supposed to go. Might as well hang us or shoot us far as I can see.”

“I don't think so. And there's something you better see over here.” Sisson led Tom to where John lay on the ground asleep. “Here,” Sisson said. “Hold him and look at the eye.”

Sisson struck a match and brought it close to John's swollen and festering eye. Tom saw it then, the small movements under the stretched purple skin of John's eyelid. With his other hand, Sisson reached out and peeled the lower lid back. The eye was infested with maggots.

“Well, shit.” Tom said. “Fuck me.”

“Yeah. Well, fuck us all. We got to decide.”

“What?”

“Go on or save John. Can't do both.”

“We spend a month walking to Mexico, almost get caught three times, and we end up here just to give up? We're in Mexico, Sisson. We're here. We just got to get around these soldiers.”

“It's a choice, and it's yours,” Sisson said. “Whatever you decide. This can't be my decision, got to be yours.”

“It's your life, too, Sisson.”

“Your insides tell you to keep running. That sooner or later you'll get away and be all right. But it won't be free. It's got to cost something. That, I figure, is your brother. His eye is rotting. The eye's connected to the brain. He ain't going to live through this. He just ain't.”

“Not sure we will either.”

“No,” Sisson said. “Nothing's sure, I guess. You just wait for the next card to turn, and you hope it goes your way.”

“What ever goes our way?”

“It's all been some pretty bad luck, I'd say.”

“It ain't luck, Sisson. The fucking deck is stacked. It always has been.”

“Probably so.”

“Listen, Sisson. You can do all right in Mexico. You're a farrier. There's always work. John and I are just cowboys. That's lugging oranges to Florida, if you ask me. You go on. I can hold the army here for a while. Hell, we still got enough ammunition to fight a small war. I'll stick with John. You go.”

Sisson looked off to the south as if he could see what awaited him in Mexico. “I been in prison,” he said. “It wasn't much good, but I could do it if I have to. I'll stay here. You go to Mexico. It's what you want. I was never that keen on it.”

“They might just kill you.”

“Well, I ain't ever been killed, but I suppose I can do that, too.”