The Ultimate Return of Carlos

29: Escape from the Streets

Carlos stared at the cracked pavement beneath him, feeling the cold reality of his situation sink in. Without a phone, without a way out, and with the threat of Snackhead looming over him, he knew he was running out of time.

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He felt the tension rise as the man’s warning echoed in his head. “You don’t wanna be here when they come back,” the man had said, looking at him with tired, knowing eyes. It wasn’t a suggestion.

With a slight nod, Carlos gathered himself, standing up on shaky legs. His body ached, especially his head where they’d kicked him, but he knew he had no choice. He couldn’t stay there. The thought of those thugs returning— maybe with more numbers, maybe more violent— made his skin crawl.

"Thanks," he muttered, giving a faint nod to the man who had handed him the aspirin. The man just grunted, already turning back to his own spot on the street. There was nothing more to say.

Carlos tightened his grip on his nearly empty backpack and made