Derek instinctively reached for his sidearm at the sound of gunfire, while ducking for cover. Just as quickly as he touched the pistol grip, he let it go. He watched Detective Valenzuela, with pistol drawn ran toward the gunfire, while speaking rapidly into a hand held radio. The detective looked back at the Springfield High Alumni and yelled,<span style="font-style: italic">"vete de aqui! Go!"</span><br/><br/>"I assume that means,<span style="font-style: italic">get the hell out of here,</span>in Spanish," Derek spoke aloud. He turned to his compatriots and yelled, "OK guys! Let's go! No need for us to get shot at!" He ran down the street, noting that the street itself was paved even if the parking lot to<span style="font-style: italic">Chico's Tienda</span>was not.<br/><br/>Derek was confused. He didn't have time to wrap his head around how his world changed. He didn't know how to speak Spanish. He hoped that Dr. Alhajri had enough mastery of the language to do some translation. As he ran down the street, he ducked into a building with the words<span style="font-style: italic">Biblioteca Mesa Verde</span>written over the door. As soon as he entered, he knew he was in a library.<br/><br/>Stopping to catch his breath, he looked around the room. The librarian looked up at him and smiled over her eyeglasses. A few young adults were reading periodicals and an elderly man was reading a book in an overstuffed chair. Derek reached into a jacket pocket, retrieving his Android. As he suspected, there were no bars at all. He approached the librarian. "Excuse me, ma'am. Do you have wifi?"<br/><br/>"Perdoneme, senor?" The woman shook her head as if to say,<span style="font-style: italic">I'm  sorry, I don't understand what you are saying.</span>