Two Gunshots Downstairs

My lifelong quest for cheap rent has taught me a thing or two about gunshots. While fireworks have crackling happiness to them, gunshots mean business. So when I heard 2 of them, in rapid succession, I ruled out fireworks, although I hesitated before calling the cops. I pinged my neighbor on google chat -- did you hear that? Should I call? I called.

Admittedly, I call about 1-3 times a week, every time I hear a girl being attacked, like a little while ago a group of boys following her, throwing rocks. She was on the phone with someone telling him to get his ass down there fast and don't forget the .22. I called the cops.

A quick side note, and I'm probably making online history by publishing Chilean emergency numbers online. From a landline in Chile, call the police by dialing 133. From a cell phone just press down hard on 9 for a while. I think. That's what a cab driver told me. Haven't tried it yet.

So anyway, what was different about tonight was that the cops actually came -- in like 5 minutes. I was still at my computer when the car pulled up below, red siren wobbling in circles, the crackling of the police radio, street otherwise silent. I looked down from my window and saw the cop strapping on a kevlar vest. I thought...woops. Maybe I shouldn't have called. I mean, it sounded like gunfire, but I wasn't really sure.

Then I heard it.

Just to explain: when looking directly down from my balcony, you can't see the sidewalk. So if someone is standing close to the building (or, in this case, lying down on the sidewalk and bleeding), you just can't see them.

Now, I'm not going to make any Maileresque similes about what I heard. It didn't sound "like a dog getting run over by a car." Instead, it was a very simple, tolerable and consistently repeated moan. The man, who was lying there where I couldn't see him, just moaned. "Ouch," he said.

"Oooooooouch."

"Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooouch."

On my computer screen, the green little chat box turned orange and filled up with words, but I was already downstairs by then. A couple more cop cars showed up but the ambulance took forever and we talked with other neighbors just 10 feet away from this guy in the picture (the guy on the ground):


Closer inspection by the cops (who told me I wasn't allowed to take pictures. Since when?) revealed a bullet wound in the side. One of the neighbors speculated: "Ooh, that's the lung for sure." The cops didn't really do anything for him except come by occasionally and ask him for his national identity number, which he wasn't able to remember or at least communicate.

One door down there was another guy bleeding with a big patch of blood on the back of his right thigh.

So what happened. Basically, these guys are buddies who live somewhere else but rent a small apartment next door to party in and binge on coke and generally live it up. But tonight they got into a little tussle and a couple shots were fired and they both came stumbling out for help, one guy made it to the base of our building, the other guy a little further on. This guy in the photo had a gold watch. I overheard police saying they found cocaine.

That's one version of the story. I'm not arguing. Here are some more photos: