Come With Me, to Korea
"Come with me, to Korea."
The dealer showed up exactly thirty minutes later. Unlike my cousin, he was a big burly guy covered head to toe in tattoos.
"Need a car?"
"Yeah. A sturdy pickup truck. Something that can handle long hauls no problem."
The dealer let out a whistle. Same damn habit as my cousin.
"Goin' on a long trip, huh? Well, everything I've got is tough as nails. Follow me."
He led me to an open lot behind the building, where about ten vehicles were parked. Sedans, SUVs, pickups—the usual lineup.
"This one's your best bet." He pointed to a Toyota Hilux. The paint was chipped in spots, but the body looked solid.
Toyota Hilux... not bad. These things were legendary for their durability. You saw 'em rolling through the Middle East, Africa, everywhere hellholes existed.
I popped the hood and checked the engine. I wasn't an expert, but leaning on Ma Hyuksu's memories, I gave it a once-over. Oil levels, belts, hoses—nothing major wrong. Fired it up, and it caught on the first try, engine purring steady.
"How much?"
"Hmm... eight grand."
Ridiculous. Back in Korea, a beater like this wouldn't cost two grand.
"Five."
"Seven. Can't go lower."
"Six. Cash, right here right now."
The dealer thought it over, then nodded. "Deal."
I pulled out the wad of dollars, counted them off, handed 'em over. He checked, tossed me the keys.
"Tank's full already. Good luck, chino."
Throughout the whole thing, Catalina leaned against the building wall, arms crossed, lips pressed tight. No clue what her problem was. Sorry, but now wasn't the time to play therapist. I ignored her.
I drove the truck around to the hole-in-the-wall shops. First stop: five cases of twenty-four-packs of bottled water. Second: two boxes of canned goods. Third: biscuits and chocolate bars. Fourth: four twenty-liter fuel cans. Grabbed a paper map too—GPS was iffy out here; paper was king. Finally, filled the cans at a gas station.
This oughta get me to the capital with the airport. No sweat.
As I loaded the truck bed, I thought, It's over now. Tomorrow morning, I'm out of this hellhole. Spent a shit-ton of cash, though.
Catalina sat shotgun. She hadn't said much since the exchange place.
"Want anything? We can hit more shops."
She finally spoke. "Nah, this is plenty."
"Cool."
Silence again. We pulled into the safehouse, parked in the building lot. Secure enough—no one'd steal or trash it overnight.
Tomorrow, I'm gone from here.
On the couch, I counted the remaining dollars: eleven grand. Emergency cash for the drive, hotel till I snag a flight, airfare. Not luxurious, but enough.
Prep complete.
Catalina stood in the middle of the living room, staring down at the couch. Ma Hyuksu lay there under a military blanket, asleep. He twitched now and then, letting out low groans. Nightmares, probably.
Tonight, she hadn't shared his bed. She'd planned to, but something changed. All because he'd stubbornly insisted on leaving Santa Esperanza.
Even though she'd helped him on a whim, the unease lingered. What the hell was this gross feeling?
She couldn't quite explain it. Anger? Betrayal? Something more primal?
Leaving Santa Esperanza... leaving me?
From the exchange place on, watching him prep his escape had burned her up inside. Water, cans, fuel. Each item loaded into the truck filled her with urgency.
[You're all I have.]
His words yesterday, lost in despair. She'd replied:
[You're all I have too.]
No joke. Not for her.
Over twenty years born and bred in Santa Esperanza. Killed, betrayed, used countless people. She'd had "partners" briefly, but they were disposable. Tossed when no longer useful.
Ma Hyuksu was the same—at first. She'd planned to kill him once he outlived his use.
But she hadn't. And his attitude grated: no fear, no scheming. He treated her like an equal. Cooked for her, patched her wounds, cracked jokes, made her laugh.
"...I don't like it."
Yeah. She really didn't. It made her want to devour him. Keep him by her side forever.
[Just marry me.]
His offhand line at the restaurant. He'd called it a joke, but her heart had nearly stopped. First time imagining a normal life with someone.
And now he was leaving. Alone. Leaving her behind.
Her hand drifted to her waist. The familiar grip of the Glock-19.
Just kill him now.
One to the head. One to the heart. Press to his sleeping temple, pull the trigger—done. No more abandonment. He'd stay in this safehouse forever. As a corpse.
No. That'd ruin the body. She wanted his head intact. Strangulation then. Nylon cord. Quiet, clean. Peaceful death before he woke.
She stepped toward the couch. His face close now. Arm's reach to throttle. Cord in her pocket. Thirty seconds, tops.
Ma Hyuksu twitched. "Ngh...!"
She jerked back reflexively. But he didn't wake—just shifted position.
Coward bitch. Pathetic. Over a hundred kills, and she couldn't off one sleeping guy?
No. Maybe killing wasn't the answer. Dead meant gone forever. No more touch, no more talk.
So what then?
Catalina slipped back to her room, shut the door, sat on the bed, grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Hesitated, then dialed a number.
Three rings. Gruff male voice. "¿Quién es?"
"It's me. Catalina."
"What the hell you want this late?"
"Wanna make some money?"
"...The fuck?"
Phone in hand, Catalina gazed out the window. Gunshots echoed sporadically in the dark. Typical Santa Esperanza night.
"Tomorrow morning, a chino's heading north on the highway. Toyota Hilux. Solo."
"And?"
"Chino's packing at least fifty grand cash. Truck bed full of supplies."
Silence on the line.
"Why tip me off? You could take it solo."
"Don't worry about my shit. Just handle it clean. But don't kill him."
"No kill? Leaves a witness."
"That's the deal. Take it or leave it?"
Longer silence. Then laughter.
"Fine. Money's money. Tomorrow AM, north road, Hilux chino, no kill. Right?"
"Yeah."
Call ended. Catalina chucked the phone on the table, lay back.
Tomorrow, Ma Hyuksu loses the cash and truck. Flat broke again.
What then? He'd come back. To her. Nowhere else to go.
She was all he had left. He'd realize it—this city, this world, only her.
Together in Santa Esperanza. Forever. No choice.
She peeked through the door crack. Him sleeping, oblivious, dreaming of escape.
"Sorry."
Whisper so soft it barely registered.
"But you broke the promise first. Said I was all you had."
She shut the door quietly. Tomorrow would be a long day.
I bolted up the second I woke. Military blanket slid to the floor. Back ached from another night on the couch—didn't matter.
Why? Today I escape this shithole city.
Quick shower, changed into yesterday's prepped clothes. Stuffed passport, wallet, phone in the backpack, hid remaining dollar stacks in various spots. Pocketed truck keys, headed to the lot.
Toyota Hilux sat right where I'd left it.
"Could live here, y'know. Not so bad."
Catalina out of nowhere.
"What the hell?"
"Just sayin'. It's a town with people. Adapt, it's livable. I could help you settle."
Hard to tell if joke or serious. I chuckled, dangled the keys.
"Thanks, but pass. Can't live here forever. Might catch a bullet today or tomorrow."
Opened the truck door, double-checked cargo. Water, cans, fuel—all good.
"You're really... leaving?"
Glanced back. She stood by the truck, expression unreadable. Calm, almost.
"Obviously."
Climbed into the driver's seat—then froze.
Sudden thought.
Catalina. Wasn't she trapped in this hell too? Born here, lived here, probably die ugly here.
Was ditching alone the right move?
"Cata."
"What?"
"I know it's nosy, but come with me."
Silence.
"What?"
"To Korea. Leave this insane city behind."