Haunted (18 page)

Were there many guards?
Culebra asks.

No. And that’s surprising. I only saw one armed man. He had an AK-47. If Santiago was there, you’d think he’d have an army to protect him.

We can’t be sure he doesn’t. Well, what do you want to do?

I glance again at Adelita. She is leaning against one of the bushes, her head has fallen to her chest. I think the poor kid is asleep. I check my watch.

There’s only three more hours of daylight. I’ll wait for you and Ramon to leave camp. Let Max know that I’m here. Have you warned him about Ramon?

Didn’t have a chance. I told you Ramon is watching us. That’s another reason I want Max to stay behind when we go to the village tonight. If Ramon and I get separated, I don’t want Max to become a target. I feel better knowing you will be with him.

Let me know when you’ve left for the village.

Culebra closes the link between us abruptly, as if someone may have called to him. I scoot myself over to where Adelita is sleeping and work my way into the brush beside her. She looks so small and fragile, so defenseless. Another surge of bitter rage against the men who abused her turns my blood hot. When I gather her to my chest, she gives one jerky start. I touch her hair gently and draw her head down to rest on my shoulder and she settles against me. Her breathing again becomes deep and regular. I wonder how long it’s been since she felt safe enough to fall asleep?

CHAPTER 31

A
DELITA STIRS AND JOLTS AWAKE, DRAGGING ME back to consciousness with her. She pushes away from me with a sharp cry. She flails her fists and screams out for me to let her go.

I tighten my arms around her. “Shhh, baby,” I whisper. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

It takes a minute, but slowly, Adelita’s mind clears as she looks up at me and realizes who is holding her. Her body relaxes, her fists drop. She sobs against my shoulder. I let her cry, get it out of her system, while my senses strain to catch any movement from the direction of camp to indicate they heard Adelita’s scream. My gut twists with pain for the girl. Just as vampire blood ignites with thoughts of revenge toward those who are responsible.

I take a quick glance at my watch. It’s after midnight. Hopefully Culebra and Ramon have already left for the village. Before I can try to contact Culebra, the sound of footfalls moving slowly and carefully through the brush toward us reaches my ears.

I hold a finger to my lips and Adelita’s eyes grow big. She swallows back her sobs, a hand pressed to her mouth. I push her gently away and stand up.

I catch his scent before I see him. Relief washes over me. I smile at Adelita. “It’s okay. It’s my friend.”

Max doesn’t have the advantage of super hearing and smell so I head out to meet him before he bursts commando style into our clearing and scares Adelita to death. I meet him about twenty yards out and seeing me pop up unexpectedly right in his path gives Max the start I was afraid he’d give Adelita.

He drops his gun hand and exhales sharply. “Jesus, Anna. Where did you come from?” Then he stops and looks at me.
Really
looks at me.

“You’ve got blood all over you.”

I raise a hand to my face self-consciously. I’d forgotten.

Max holsters his gun, pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. “Here. At least wipe your face off.”

I take the handkerchief, spit on it and scrub at my face. The cloth comes away stained. When I try to return it to Max, he pushes it back at me. “Keep it. Do I want to know whose blood it is?”

“I’ll tell you later. Have Culebra and Ramon left for the village?”

“About an hour ago. I expect them back anytime. Were you coming to give us a report?”

“Already gave it to Culebra.”

He shoots me a puzzled frown. “How long have you been here?”

“Since this afternoon.”

“Then why—?”

“Come on. I have someone I want you to meet.”

Max has a perplexed look on his face, but he follows me. When I get back to the place I left Adelita, my heart leaps with alarm. She’s not where I left her.

Max is looking around. “Meet who? There’s no one here.”

I peer into the bushes, catch her scent, the scent of blood, and follow it to her hiding place. “It’s all right. Max is a friend.”

I had no idea how the sight of an unfamiliar man would affect Adelita. She’s trembling, unable to stand or talk, eyes fixed on Max. Her skin is torn where she forced herself into thick brush, rough bark and sharp branches gouging at her.

I squat so she and I are at eye level. “He will not hurt you. He is here to help get you to safety.”

I hold out my hands to her. At first, I think she will refuse to come out, the nightmare of her captivity turning any man not known to her into a new enemy.

But she turns her gaze away from Max and focuses on me. She takes my hand and lets me tear away at the brush holding her until I’ve managed to make a hole big enough for her to free herself without tearing more skin. I pull her gently to her feet with me.

We walk back to Max.

His eyes widen when he sees the girl, bruised, torn, bleeding, dressed in the remnants of that old blanket. He also sees the fear in her eyes. He makes no move to come closer.

“This is Adelita, Max. She escaped from the village. She is very brave.” I touch Adelita’s arm. “This is my friend Max. He will help get you to safety.”

Max begins to speak softly to Adelita in Spanish. She nods and after a moment, replies to something he asked her. She still has not let go of my hand. They talk for several minutes and then Max says to me, “Let’s go back to camp. I have food and water. She looks like she could use something to eat.”

Max walks ahead and beside me, Adelita matches my stride without hesitation. She does not take her eyes off Max, though, nor does she let go of my hand. It’s no surprise that she doesn’t react to the coldness of my skin. I doubt she notices. Shock and fear have turned her own hand to ice.

It’s a short walk to the small clearing where the men spent the night. Calling it a “camp” is overstating it. No tents. No campfire. The only indication that anyone was here is Max’s duffel shoved under a twisted mesquite. He retrieves it and unzips one of the pockets, pulling a couple of protein bars out of it. He hands them to Adelita.

For the first time since Max joined us, she lets go of my hand. She rips at the paper and wolfs down the first bite so quickly, she starts to choke. I’m at her side in an instant, taking the bars from her hand, breaking off small bits that she eats slowly once she has caught her breath.

Max pulls a bottle of water from the bag next. He hands it to me and I open it and when Adelita has finished the first bar, offer her a drink.

“My god,” Max whispers to me while we watch her eat. “Did Santiago do this to her?”

I tell him the same thing I told Culebra—that I didn’t know. And that Adelita never heard a name except
El Jefe
. I also tell him about the other girls, the two dead, the four delivered to this
El Jefe
like takeout. What happened when I found the driver and the truck.

“Must be Santiago and his crew,” Max says when I finish. “Sounds twisted enough.”

Adelita has finished the bars and is sipping at the water. A little color has returned to her cheeks, but her eyes remain wary, watchful. Max hunkers down and when I do, too, Adelita follows our lead.

“When do you expect Culebra and Ramon to return?” I ask.

“They plan to stay on lookout until dawn—or until they know for sure if Santiago is in the village.”

“Then what?”

“Then we go in after him.”

“Did Culebra tell you—?”

“That Ramon doesn’t trust me? Yes. It’s not a big surprise, though. The story of my coming along out of friendship for Culebra was a little thin. He may think I’m here solely to bust him.”

“There’s more, too. Maria wasn’t going to let me follow last night. Did Culebra tell you that, too?”

He looks surprised. “No. Didn’t have much time alone without Ramon. Did she try to stop you?”

“With a big shotgun.”

He looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Is she still breathing?”

“Of course she is. I just incapacitated her. Gabriella would have freed her as soon as the girl woke up. I didn’t like some of the things Maria was saying. I get the feeling Ramon has a bigger agenda than he’s letting on.”

Before Max can respond, I catch a sound approaching through the brush, rapid footsteps coming toward us.

I hold up a hand for Max to be quiet.

More than two sets of footsteps.

I jump up, startling Adelita into jumping up, too.

Max is on his feet, gun drawn. “What is it?”

I grab Adelita’s hand, force it into Max’s. “Get her out of here. I’ll hold them off.”

“Them? You’re sure it’s not Culebra and Ramon?”

“Not unless they’ve grown a dozen more pairs of legs.”

Adelita pulls free of Max, stumbles to my side. I look over her head to Max. “Get her out of here. Get to the Jeep, take her across the border. If they catch her again, they’ll kill her.”

Max doesn’t hesitate even for a moment. He scoops Adelita into his arms. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Do you still have your cell?”

“Turned it off. I don’t think I have much battery life left.”

“I should get back to the river in six hours.” He looks at his watch. “Turn it on at eight a.m. I can trace you.”

Adelita is staring at me with the blank-eyed look of a wounded animal. She looks like a child in Max’s arms. I stroke her hair. “You will be safe. You can’t stay here. The men from the village are coming.”

She closes her eyes for an instant, then releases a long slow breath as if the fight has left her. Max tightens his arms around her. He nods just once to me and in the next moment, the two are gone.

CHAPTER 32

M
AX MOVES ALMOST AS SILENTLY AS I DO through the brush. In a minute, all I hear are the approaching footsteps of what I guess to be a dozen men. I grab Max’s duffel and head back toward the rocks and the burned-out truck.

I do nothing to hide my tracks. I want whoever is coming to find an easy trail to follow. One set of footprints. I want them to come after me.

It takes me far less time to reach the rocks than it will for those following. Gives me time to find a vantage point to use as lookout. While I wait, I open Max’s bag of tricks.

I was wrong. He doesn’t have a
small
arsenal inside, he has a big arsenal inside. Grenades, flares, a couple of handguns, a small case with a disassembled rifle and a sniper’s scope.

Boy Scout, indeed. Prepared to earn a murder badge.

In the side pouches are several more of those protein bars and the last two bottles of water.

I chug half of one, splash water onto the handkerchief and try again to scrub at my face. I can’t imagine how I appeared to Adelita—my face and clothes so soaked in blood.

Maybe the fact that it was one of her tormentor’s blood made it less horrific.

From what I gather from the sounds, the men have reached the place where Ramon, Culebra and Max stayed the night. I listen intently but the men don’t appear to be talking. They must be a well-trained gang of thugs, not wanting to give away their location. I imagine them searching the ground, finding the discarded wrappers and the empty water bottles. Now comes the tricky part.

Will they see where Max and I found Adelita hiding in the thicket, or will my more obvious tracks draw them away?

In a moment, I have my answer. They start in my direction.

Good.

A glance at my watch.

All I have to do now is keep them occupied for eight hours.

I wait until they reach the side of the road. I want to see who is leading the hunting party. They gather and stop in the cover of brush, whispering and pointing toward the rocks, the beams of a half dozen LED flashlights crisscrossing in front of them.

Then they step into the road.

It’s no surprise when I recognize the man in front, or when I hear his familiar voice call out.

“Come on out, Max,” Ramon says. “We have Culebra. It will go easier on both of you if you come out now.”

He doesn’t mention me. Either he hasn’t yet been in contact with Maria or he doesn’t want to let Max know that I’ve followed.

I consider my options. I could pick them off one by one with the rifle in Max’s bag.

No. Better to lead them on a merry chase away from the village, give Max more time to get away.

One thing I can do, though. Finish the job I started this morning.

I grab one of the grenades. Pull the pin. Toss it onto the burned-out bed of the truck.

The flash of the grenade flying through the air is caught by the searching flashlights. The men dive back into the brush.

The grenade explodes, flinging bits of wood from the truck’s side panels and charred bodies in a wide arc and reigniting the fuel that was left in the gas tank.

Now not even Horatio Caine could piece together what’s left.

A cry goes up from the group. Excited exclamations in Spanish. Evidently a piece of wood from the truck flew straight into one of the men. He staggers out into the road, flanked on either side by two buddies trying to drag him back into the brush. He’s fighting them. There’s a long, slender splinter no wider than an arrow projecting from his chest in front and out his back. The two trying to get him out of the road give up quickly and leave him to take cover again. The wounded man makes it no more than three or four steps before he collapses.

I don’t know how he keeps going but he raises himself onto his knees, grasps the wooden spear with two hands and pulls.

His scream hangs in the air longer than it takes the blood to drain from his body.

I watch the man die, feeling nothing, my mind a blank slate. No. That isn’t entirely true. I do have a thought.

One down . . .

CHAPTER 33

T
HERE’S MORE MURMURING GOING ON BEHIND the cover of brush at the side of the road. The gist seems to be an argument between the men who want to continue after Max (or who they
think
is Max) and the ones who think they should go back for reinforcements.