Perez moved, though not to fall over, or do anything else helpless. He stepped sideways, removing the robe from over his head, and twisting the mask around to the other side. He’d painted a skull on it, like something out of a Dia de los Muertos parade. A human skull, not a pony, and was that toothpaste he’d painted with? “Dios Mio,” he said through the helmet, though of course Salvadore wouldn’t be able to understand. “You people could’ve been smart. In and out, simple as that.”