Free The Tesseract by Alex Garland

opening.
    Don Pepe gestured for Jojo to knock again. Behind him, Jojo heard Teroy exhale slowly.
    Jojo heard the latch turn on the door in front of him, and as the door was yanked open, he felt the rush of air on his nose and lips. But the door slam—it came from the side, down the corridor. And it had been the kind of noise he had been waiting for, or expecting. So when it came, that was the direction in which he moved his head. To the side.
    There was a hammer blow on his ears and a tight cone of sparks, etched into his peripheral vision even after his eyes had clamped shut. And an airless constriction in his chest, as if hehad dived into the icy water of Don Pepe’s indoor swimming pool, air-con chilled.
    Eeeh!
    “You see, Jojo, in this tropical Asian climate, it is all but impossible to immerse yourself in cold water. But in Europe, daily immersion in cold water is not only possible but a long-accepted aid to a healthy constitution.”
    Eh.
    “There are no churches in the Philippines. In Spain there are churches. Here, you have only…”
    Ah.
    “God in heaven, what have I done to…”
    Suck.
    “I said hands. Not hand.”
    Old as any church that Jojo had ever seen.
    “Jojo. Knock.”
    The mestizo’s last words. That was the way it was.
2.
    Words filtered through the ringing in Jojo’s ears.
    “Paré!
Are you hit
?”
    Jojo’s head still pointed toward the slammed door.
    “
Are you shot?
”
    Too dazed to know if he’d been shot or not, he didn’t reply. He might have been shot. He didn’t have the vaguest idea what had happened over the past few seconds, so anything was possible.And there was a strangely acute heat on the lower parts of his legs, around his shins and calves.
    Jojo looked down and saw Bubot. The last time he had seen Bubot, he had been standing up. Now the
sip-sip
king had dropped to the floor and was lying like a Chinese beggar, knees folded neatly under the torso, face hidden, arms flopped out to catch spare change.
    Bubot’s head was pouring blood onto Jojo’s trousers.
    “
Move away from the fucking door!
” shouted Teroy.
    But the only thing that moved was Jojo’s eyes, flicking sideways to Don Pepe.
    “
The door
, paré!”
    Don Pepe was slumped with his legs splayed out in front of him and his body half twisted, one shoulder leaning against the wall, keeping him from keeling over. His chin and neck and shirt collar were bright red. The splashes around his nose were even redder. Pale skin, never in the sunlight, never out of cover except after nightfall. The whisper had it:
A touch of sun would turn him black in a day
.
    “
The door!
”
    Teroy grabbed Jojo by the arm and yanked him backward.
    “
He can shoot through!
”
    “He?”
    “The—” Teroy broke off. Maybe it was to catch a breath. He was breathing heavily, almost panting, and glittering sweat beads were forming over his face even as Jojo watched.
    Mysteriously, Teroy started feeling around the belt line of Jojo’s trousers.
    “Gun?”
    “It’s…it’s in the car.” An odd panic slid into Jojo’s gut. Familiar, after a second or two. This was his nightmare coming true: The moment he actually needed to use his gun, he was letting Teroy down. “
Kumpadre
, I left it…the glove compartment. I…didn’t…”
    “In the car,” repeated Teroy, anger flashing across his face. Then he nodded, wiped the sweat off his upper lip, and reached somewhere inside his jacket. Pulled out a small revolver. “Okay,” he said, flipping the safety catch as he handed it over. “It’s okay.”
    Jojo took the revolver silently.
    “Now listen,
paré
. On three, we’re going to shoot at the door. We’re going to shoot at the door before he does. You use
all
the bullets. You
keep
shooting until all the bullets are gone.”
    “Shoot into the room.”
    “Into his room. On three.”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re ready?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Yes.”
    Teroy crossed himself with the barrel of his automatic.