A/N: Here is chapter six. Wow this is moving pretty quickly and I really like writing this so I hope all of you like reading. Enjoy!

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Sands could hear the door being pelted from the outside. It was sounding farther and farther away as time went on. The door burst off of its hinges just as he lapsed into an unconscious state.

"El, what is the meaning of this?"

"This is the man who set up the coup d'etat in Mexico. He was planning to kill you."

"This man is dying. Call an ambulance! Quickly!" El Presidente screamed at the police that were waiting just outside the room. Everyone scrambled to follow the order and no one seemed to notice that Sands had stopped breathing and was now extremely lifeless.

"Presidente. It's too late. He's already dead." Right after El said this Sands began to stir. He sat up and shook his head.

"I really do have a fucked up family. My parents left me and my brother to rot and my brother shot me. Just wonderful. El. What a pleasant surprise." Sands pushed El away from him and stood up. "You should consider getting rid of those chains on your pants. They're a dead give away for your location."

"You were dead. I saw you die."

"Not a big deal. It's happened many times before." Sands gave a small smirk and continued walking around the room. "Though I am very hungry. You really must taste this corn. It is just delicious."

The ambulance pulled up in front of the room and paramedics burst into the room.

"Where's the body?" El pointed to Sands who was now gnawing on an ear of corn that wasn't quite finished cooking. "He's not dead."

"That's right. I'm undead. There's a bit of a difference. And I'm extremely thirsty. Got any spare blood in that ambulance."

"What?" Sands shot all three of the paramedics before they could say anything else. Then he was walking over to them and placing his mouth onto the neck of one of them. El watched in horror as Sands helped himself to the dead paramedics.

"Nothing like a good drink to wash down that icky taste that coming back to life leaves in your mouth. Not that these guys are very satisfying. The didn't take care of themselves very well. Sour blood."

"Is that what you did to me?"

"Um...yeah. Didn't take as much though. Wanted to save some for later."

"What happened to the paramedics?"

"Presidente. Well I get two Mexicans for the price of one. I must tell you that I am very happy that my plan didn't succeed in Mexico because then I wouldn't have the pleasure of killing you for myself. Then again I didn't like to do the heavy lifting back then." Sands wiped off his mouth and walked over to El Presidente. "I wonder if you're as sweet as your bodyguard over there."

El Presidente backed away from Sands as soon as he realized how close they were. El was still staring. Almost as if he was in shock.

"Oh. Did El forget to tell you that he was working for me when he was the mariachi at your little banquet thing? He was going to kill you. Not exactly, but he was going to help me restore the balance. Right, The?"

"Lo siento, Presidente." El lifted his gun and shot Sands in the back. It didn't even seem to phase Sands so El shot again. And again.

"You know El, that hurts. Well dying twice in a matter of minutes is a new record for me." He coughed and fell to the ground again. "Just go away. I have work to do." Sands passed out once again.

El and Presidente looked at him and left the room. Signaling for the police officers outside to leave the area.

-

Mort returned to the hotel room and opened the door. He was feeling much better now that he had thought about what he was going to do. Okay Mort, remember pack up your things. Put them into your car and after your appearances you can go back home. Then everything will be okay.

On his way to the kitchenette he tripped over something on the floor. Thinking that it was just a bag or a pile of clothes that he had left there he turned around casually to move it out of the way. His breath got caught in his throat after he saw what he had really tripped over.

"Shel?" He reach out a hand and poked him in the stomach. "Shel?" You killed your brother. "No. I didn't kill anybody." He's the sixth person that you've killed. That is if you count that woman in the park just an hour ago.

Sands brought his hand up to rub his forehead. "The second time today."

"Shel?"

"Oh hello Mort."

"You're alive."

"Technically. Do you know where I could find some puerco pibil?"

"I don't live here. You do."

"Oh right. Note to self: Dying more than once a day is not good for the mind." Mort watched his brother with the same eyes that El had seen him through only moments before. "Hey Mort, can I see your wrist?"

"I thought you didn't have eyes."

"Yeah. Well just let me feel it." Mort stuck out his arm and Sands latched his mouth onto it. He sucked a little bit of blood before Mort pulled his arm back and cradled it to his chest.

"What are you doing?"

"I was thirsty. So when do you have your first book signing? I have to get ready."

"Soon."

"Oh. Excuse me." Sands felt his way to the bathroom. When he came back out he was wearing a very fake looking mustache. "Let's go."

All Mort could do was follow his brother out of the room.

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There it is. Thanks for reading!