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“Here they are!” someone yells from behind, and the faces I see across the street look like
faces I imagine in combat without any cover. I don't see the bulls, but I know those guys do
and I know they are fucking close. I keep my back to the wall so if one comes at me I can
react as quickly as possible. But there is nowhere to go. It is a mass of people within a mass
of people within the mass of people flooding this city. If a bull comes at me it will do what
it wants to me. I keep pushing myself on a diagonal—right and forward—and hope the bulls
take a wide turn and no one pushes me out.
And then bulls are coming behind me, I push, I fucking push three bulls across the front, I
actually don't know how many total.
They look loud but the human noise overtakes theirs.
More bulls—fucking huge animals—in the back.
Everyone yells, people scream, duck their heads into their arms, people dive out of the
middle, people dive to my feet and scurry forward, people dive right in front of the fucking
bulls—theyarehere,huge,hugebullscharging,heretheyare,justdon'tgoreme—throwme,
break my arm, knock me down, just don't gore me.
The bulls come next to me, not at me, and their momentum carries them left, and they are
the biggest mass of living matter I have ever seen, some black, some lighter brown. If they
get scared, if something sets one of them off, it will try to kill me. There is nowhere to go. If
one of them decides to charge this crowd, it could gore many. It could turn our white clothes
much redder than the sangria. The horns look like they could go through me and whoever is
behind me and maybe a third. Two feet to my side, a bull passes. I cringe and lock my legs. I
could reach out—and it could reach in—
But it doesn't.
The bulls pass and people yell—people yell with a new sense of confidence and charge
forward.
“Let's go!” someone yells.
Someone steps onmyheel andmyshoenearly comes off,butIam able toreach downand
fix it in stride.
We run with new hope, and I wonder if they know more will be coming. At first I was told
there was one group of six, but yesterday I was told there would likely be three groups of
several.
Imoveoutofthepackandsprintforafewseconds,judgingbytherelativecalmthatIhave
a short period of time to cover ground before the next group comes, but I have no idea how
long. I sprint—I fucking sprint like you can only sprint when you are sprinting from danger.
I sprint with fucking urgency , and then move back to the right. I am in good position along a
wall and am still moving. I feel safer than I have since I entered the road almost an hour ago,
but the panic rushes right back in again when the volume climbs and I see three bulls over
my left shoulder on the inside of the road.
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