Ash, soot, and the embers of a dying fire were all that remained of the scene. That and the bodies littered throughout its landscape. It was as if something apocalyptic had happened here. The reality? War…
For the last eight years, the Nation of Mexico had been embroiled in revolution, and the longer it went on the more unstable things became. It seemed every day now that an assassination of some kind occurred, which prompted an even more violent response from another warlord.
The reality was this wasn't some organized civil war between government forces and revolutionaries. Warlords came and went, and the men fighting were loyal to them, not the banners they waved at any given moment.
Sure, it was painted in the light of a more traditional civil war, but this matter was far from simple. And now, a new banner was waving over the ashes of Vera Cruz, armed militiamen wearing black armbands with a skull, and a sombrero on its head were executing anyone who still had some breath left.
