The sun was bright that day, every news station on the wireless spoke of an imminent heatwave. It appeared as though they were onto something. The town was bustling; the street market seemed particularly crowded, but there seemed to be tension in the air. The townsfolk were not going about their business as usual. A peculiarly large number of civilians were crowded round the butcher's stall. 

Ducky was suspicious by nature. He knew something wasn't right, but was not going to make the mistake of getting too close. His demeanour often frightened people; the crazed look in his eyes didn't help, and they'd cross the street when they saw him coming. His presence in this situation would not be well-greeted, regardless of his innocence.

Perhaps it was the mix of humidity and the smell of the fresh meat, but the air smelt particularly pungent to Ducky. It reminded him of something, but he could not recall exactly what.

Not a second later, he remembered.

A gap in the crowd formed for a moment, and Ducky caught a glimpse of the horrifying scene. A large, limbless body hung from one of the meat hooks, the cloth-covering ripped from the bottom still hung loosely across the top of the torso. It had been hung upside down and frozen, but had already started to thaw in the summer sun and red-tinted water droplets were collecting on the top of the head, hitting the ground quickly.

The eyes of the condemned man, frozen open, seemed to stare straight into Ducky's soul. Did he know this man? Ducky's heart started to race, his breathing quickened. Whether he knew the poor bastard or not, he wasn't sticking around. The cops were surely on their way.

Ducky's eyes darted left to right in paranoia, and noticed a dark alleyway across the street in the opposite direction to the market.

"Escape route." He mumbled to himself, as anxiety started to kick in. He started to walk, as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself. 

He crossed the road, and as he hopped up onto the pavement, let out a slight sigh of relief, knowing that it wasn't far until he could forget about this whole thing. He picked up the pace, avoiding a man in a dark grey Fedora leaned up against a wall with his head down, the brim of his hat covering his eyes, appearing interested only in stuffing tobacco into the end of his pipe.

As Ducky got close to the opening to the dark alleyway, he turned his head to make sure no one was paying him any attention. The man in the Fedora was now lighting his pipe, but Ducky thought he'd seen the man smirk. His paranoia was kicking in again.

Ducky faced the direction he was going again as he reached the alley, but before he could make use of the relative safety of the darkness, a man steps out of the shadows.

At the pace Ducky was walking, he had to stop himself from crashing into the man, his knee buckled slightly with the change of momentum.

"My name is Justice." The man said, not hesitating a moment. "Come with me if you don't want a bullet in the back."

Ducky was not going to argue. A man in a new town needed all the help he could get, regardless of the reason for his visit.

"Who the hell are you?" Ducky said with forced aggression, attempting to hide the panic that had yet to subside.

Before the man named Justice could answer, the man in the Fedora appeared beside Ducky, taking him by surprise with his reply.

"We are Los Guerreros." The man said, pipe still in mouth. A small amount of smoke appeared as he spoke.

"And you're going to do us a little favour..."