"Chimalhuacán Slum restored!!"
10:30 PM...
A dozen Humvees sped through the main thoroughfare of Mexico, with megaphones blaring loudly.
Many were plastered against their windows, observing with varied expressions.
"Beckett, be careful not to stick your head out too much, or those bastard dogs will spot you," a voice, filled with anger, scolded a boy wearing a Snoopy shirt, as he lay on his bed peering outside.
The little boy was clean-cut with big eyes; he turned his head and saw his father, a shirtless truck driver, swearing.
The curfew had killed many businesses, and this had displeased him greatly.
"Can't you keep it down?" his mother complained from the side.
"Keep it down? Why should I! That bitch Victor and the damn government, let me tell you, someone will take him down tomorrow!"
Alcohol emboldened the man, leading him to talk big and thoughtlessly.
"Can you stop being so childish? How do you think others will judge if they overhear our quarrels?"
