Crossfire

Barrio Beats Hostel sold itself as "authentic." The walls were painted with murals, the music never stopped, and the staff told guests which streets to avoid after dark. Paige nodded at the warnings and assumed they were just part of the atmosphere, like the caution signs in Rome's aqueduct hostel. She stayed because the price was right and the reviews praised the rooftop parties.

On Friday night, the street outside filled with people and drums. Elsa dragged Paige onto the balcony, saying it was safe and the view was great. Caleb filmed the crowd, narrating about Medellin's transformation. Javi poured rum and joked about the old days. The vibe was electric until it wasn't.

The music cut. Shouts echoed down the alley. Paige heard the first crack and thought it was fireworks. She ducked anyway. Javi killed the lights and told everyone to get inside. The hostel's thin walls felt like paper. Paige climbed into her bunk and pulled the curtain closed, hands shaking. Elsa crouched beside her, whispering that it would pass.

The second crack was closer. The third came through the wall. The drywall exploded in a shower of dust. Paige felt a punch in her side, a heat that didn't make sense. She looked down and saw blood, bright against the dark sheets. She opened her mouth to speak but only air came out.

Caleb crawled to her, pressing his hands against the wound, trying to stay calm. Elsa cried and kept saying, "Stay with us," while the sounds outside spiked and faded. The bullets kept coming in bursts, and every pause felt like a breath held too long.

When the shooting stopped, the street went quiet in a way that made everyone freeze. Javi cracked the door and shouted for help, but the alley was empty, the party gone. The sirens arrived late because the city had too many calls at once.

Paige's blood soaked into the mattress, dark against the thin fabric. Elsa kept pressing down, whispering apologies she knew Paige couldn't hear. Caleb counted her breaths like a metronome, losing the beat as they slowed.

Someone pulled the curtains even though it was still night, as if hiding would change the outcome.

The room felt too small for the fear inside it.

The air tasted like metal.

Caleb called emergency services. The line was busy. Javi ran to the door and yelled for help. The street was chaos. Elsa pressed towels to Paige's side, her face a mask of disbelief. Paige's eyes went wide and then went still. By the time the ambulance arrived, the party had moved on two blocks away.

The hostel closed for a week. Javi told reporters it was a freak incident. Caleb wrote an article about the risk of adventure tourism and sent it to every outlet he knew. Elsa left a bouquet on the balcony railing, the flowers wilting in the heat. @HostelReaper commented on the article: "Walls are not shields." The line stayed with Paige's family longer than any condolence.