Fernanda Melchor Writes Tragic Machismo

In her novels, male fear and desire are two sides of the same coin.

- By Max Pearl. Photograph by Billy & Hells

THE SCENE OPENS ON A kid named Milton. He lives in a poor neighborhood near the coast of Veracruz, Mexico, where there is a gang that strikes such fear into civilians that they refer to its members only as aquellos, or “them.” One night, a group of gang members abducts Milton in front of his home and interrogates him with electric shocks until he pees himself. Then they give the terrified kid clean clothes and send him on his first job as a professional killer.

But they need a car. So one of the sicarios hails a taxi, puts a gun to the driver’s head, and throws him into the trunk. Four guys pile in, and they start driving, knocking delivery people off their motorbikes, making off with the bikes one by one until just Milton and the boss, El Sapo, are left in the cab. They pull onto an unpaved road at the edge of the city, drag the taxi driver out of the trunk, and throw him to the ground. “Flick the safety off,” El Sapo says to Milton, his pistol trained on the kid even while he’s handing him another pistol from his waistband. The driver has his face to the ground, and he’s praying: “Dios te salve, reina y madre de misericordia.” Milton completes the prayer in his head: Vida, dulzura y esperanza nuestra. He fires off four shots— his first murder.