José lay at the bottom of the gulley crying in pain. He heard shouts and shots above him. Were they still shooting at him? Suddenly a border guard lowered himself over the edge of the gulley and dropped to the bottom of it. “Hey kid, are you hurt?”
“Please don’t kill me. I’ll go back to Mexico. I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t shoot me again.” José begged.
The border guard knelt next to him. “Calm down, kid. I’m here to help you. Are you hurt?”
José rolled over and tried to get up, but couldn’t. “Don’t hurt me, please, I beg you!”
The guard pulled him back gently and laid him back down. “Hey, hey, stop. I’m here to help you. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. ”
José stared at him. “The Border Patrol wants to help me? Be real.”
“Right now, the Border Patrol is here to help. Show me where you are hurt.” The guard answered.
José pointed to his shoulder. “Here. They shot me. Please, do you have water?”
The guard held his canteen to José’s mouth to let him drink. José thought that water had never tasted so good to him. The guard took his radio from his belt. “This is Agent Ortega in the gulley. The kid is down here and he has a bullet in his shoulder from those Minutemen. Get the helicopter up here to get him to the hospital. He’s bleeding badly. Over.”
The radio crackled, “We’re bringing the helicopter around. Be there in a minute. Over.”
The guard took José’s hand and held it. “Hold on, kid. The helicopter will be here in just a minute.”
“Were those Minutemen part of the Border Patrol?” José asked.
The guard shook his head, “No. They’ve been arrested and they’re on their way to jail right now for what they did. They are just some stupid guys who think they can shoot anyone they want in the name of Patriotism.”
Two more Border Patrol guards jumped into the gulley carrying a stretcher with them. “Alright, kid, you’re on your way to the hospital. Don’t worry about a thing. You’re safe.”
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