Governor Don Jaime lay on his bed, reading a newspaper, El Imparcial as the train puffed and chugged its way to the American border. The headline read, in Spanish, Revolutionary Forces of Pancho Villa Arrive in the Vicinity of Mexico City. Was it too much to keep Mexico under control? Though he was wealthy, and comfortable, he was living with the stress of the working class rising up against him, and extensively Huerta. Sure, Huerta had murdered Madero, but then again, Madero had been a weak candidate.
In the cargo carriage, the men tried to rest as a chicken screamed incessantly; Juan had been trying to sleep off the deep and heavy depression he had felt over the past day. Tired of the fuss the chicken was making, John ambled over and stroked its back gently. Taking the hat off his face, Juan glanced over. The damn thing wouldn't shut up, so John snapped its neck. It wasn't doing anything wrong, it's just that he and Juan only wanted some peace and quiet, especially from everything that happened over the past day.
But it wasn't going to last, as a truck rolled onto the tracks, forcing the train to stop. Juan and John shook, rattled and rolled with the crates and cages, struggling to hold themselves steady. Jaime tumbled out of his bed.
Once more, it was chaos. Soldiers fired upon revolutionary bandits as they swarmed around the train. Once again, it was war.
Quickly, Jaime grabbed his pistol and hastened to the window. Feeling himself cornered on all sides, he grabbed a small black clutch bag and made a run for it.
Meanwhile, Juan, who had been looking through the window, heard frantic thumping on the carriage door. He turned to John as though asking what to do next. John motioned for him to wait patiently as he heard footsteps approaching the carriage.
As John unhooked the latch, Governor Jaime stumbled in. Juan eyed the Governor with absolute hatred. Jaime had only contempt for the peasant standing in his way, and desperate cowardice.
"Get out of the way!", said Jaime desperately. He drew his pistol, but John beat him down and disarmed him. Now John was holding the gun at the Governor.
"What do you want from me?", said Jaime, clutching his small black bag. "You scum!"
Not the right thing to say from someone who had your own gun to you.
"Let me by." Jaime was sweating profusely as John kept the pistol to his face.
John scowled at the Governor. Then he glanced over at Juan, and, twirling the pistol, he tossed it into the bandit's hands.
Juan hesitated at the enormous responsibility of killing Governor Jaime. But he thought then of his father, and his six children, who were all dead, partly because of him.
Jaime watched with terror at the pistol in Juan's hand, as the man slowly drew it. But he had to think fast or he'd die at the hands of this mere lowlife.
Slowly, Jaime approached Miranda, and nervously opened the bag to reveal to him what was inside it.
"It's yours", he quavered, glancing quickly behind him to make sure John wasn't making any move. "There's a fortune inside. Money, jewels, pearls".
Juan glared at the Governor in silent fury.
Jaime gingerly placed the bag on one of the crates, then backed away as Juan slowly but angrily advanced on him, pistol in hand. Juan dragged the bag towards him, glancing at it.
It had looked to Jaime like his bribe was working. He quickly dove for cover by the crates and cages on the other side of the carriage.
It seemed for a moment like Juan wasn't looking as he drew his pistol away from the Governor as he inspected the money and jewels.
But Jaime had attempted to open the carriage door, and Juan shot him in the back at almost lightning speed before he could escape.
Juan drew a huge sigh, and looked at his hand, which was almost trembling. He gave a half-smile at John, then wiped the hand on his clothes, as though washing some sort of invisible blood off of it.
Shutting the carriage door, John peered out through the blinds. The war was still waging, whether Jaime was dead or not. This is what "revolution confusion" truly was.
"Well, this may not be going to America", drawled John.
"Maybe the train won't", said Juan, inspecting a diamond necklace, "But we will. Hey, which way is America?"
"Well, it's sure as hell not that way," said John. "That's the way."
For the first time in days, Juan smiled. "Well then... let's go."
The two men laughed together. John opened another door and Juan leapt out...
... straight into the welcoming arms of hundreds of grateful peasants.