10. Grace
10
Grace
W e pulled into a broken-down warehouse, its corrugated panels peeling away as though it rotted like an over-ripened banana. Two men stepped out dressed in jeans and t-shirts and pushed the floor-to-ceiling doors to the side, allowing our vehicle to pass through.
Long black military-style rifles hung along their bodies, and the strap cinched around their shoulders.
"Where are we?" I glanced around the deserted area and back to the front through the windshield.
"Your last stop."
I curled in on myself, hugging my damaged arm, my chest tightening with sharp pained pinches.
The vehicle stopped in the middle of the building, where a group of men stood huddled around a tight circle, some cheering while others wore frowns.
A deep hum struck my ears as the driver turned off the vehicle, my body vibrating from the road.
The men stepped out of the vehicle, their doors slamming shut one after the other.
Javier leaned in, and I gasped, his presence looming as he snatched my upper arm and tugged me out.
I tripped over my bare feet, but he held me upright as we walked toward a metal hatch in the floor.
Nausea swirled in my gut with a sickening doom lurking in the cement.
The two men from the car lifted the hatch doors, harboring concrete steps illuminated with a yellow bulb no doubt out of circulation.
"What's down there?"
Javier moved me down the steps with a grumbling in his throat as I glanced at the huddled men cheering. Two roosters fought in the center of the crowd, their claws flying toward one another as they flapped their wings.
The walls crawled with dark shadows as we moved down the dilapidated hall. The concrete walls crumbled with overuse.
The men followed behind us, Javier's hand tightened around my arm, his hulking frame hunched so as not to skim the ceiling.
My body screamed and ached as he marched me toward the end of the hall and into a large expanse equipped with tables, chairs, and a couch at the furthest side.
Five rugged men huddled around a worn table, their young but weathered faces etched with lines of hardship and determination. Guns, holstered with an air of authority, adorned their hips, serving as both a warning and a testament to their dangerous lives.
Each glance, each movement, carried a hint of latent violence, a constant reminder of the world they inhabited, and now so do I.
Another figure stood out—a man of refined taste, seated in a cushioned chair that contrasted with the harsh surroundings. His posture exuded an air of calculated control, his hands hanging between his legs, his elbows braced on his thighs. It was as if he held himself in a poised stance, ready to seize any opportunity.
The card players halted their game, their gazes locking onto my path. Tension crackled in the air, accentuated by the murmurs of contention.
" El Jefe." One of the men gestured towards me. "She's here."
The Boss glanced at the man sitting at the table and gave him a look that had him hunching his shoulders and turning back to his cards.
How oblivious would he have to be to not see five people walking into a bunker?
The Boss stood on an exhale, his gaze flicking from me to Javier. "She's a tiny thing, isn't she?" he said in Spanish.
"That's how he likes them." Javier grinned
Andrés had a type. Petite and young—so he could train us to do exactly what he wanted.
"What happened to her face?"
"Ximén, I think."
He sighed and cocked his head to the side, his gaze trailing over every part of me with a pulsing jaw. "What's your name?"
"G-grace." My voice trembled, and my hand shook by my side.
"Grace." He stepped forward, my name like honey on his tongue. He reached out and touched a tendril of hair pressed against my cheek. "Have a seat."
He motioned towards the green dingy couch as Javier's hand came away from my arm.
I sidestepped them both and sat on the far end. My side cuddled up against the armrest that should have had padding inside.
"Andrés…" A chill crossed my flesh.
The Boss's eyes darted toward the goosebumps on my exposed arm, and a slight smirk appeared. "He's a mysterious man." His gaze found mine again, his chest moving with regulated breaths. "Not many people have met him, much less escaped him. Why don't you tell me what you know about him?"
How could I describe a ruthless man who'd haunt my nightmares until my dying day? He embodied darkness incarnate, a figure whose mere thought invoked a shiver down my spine, an echo of fear reverberating through my mind.
He emerged as a specter in my nightmares, his every movement calculated and deliberate, haunting the shadows with a maleficent grace. The memory of his deeds, etched with vivid clarity, seared into my psyche like an indomitable scar, forever tainting my perception of the world.
"There's not much to tell."
"No?" He cocked his head to the side as he sat and adjusted his suit jacket, his legs braced wide, taking up the space around him.
I shook my head and swallowed a hard lump growing in my throat.
"Then it seems they brought you all this way for nothing." He nodded and waved his hand.
Javier swiped his hand behind his back and reemerged with a black pistol.
My heart plowed through my chest, my pulse punching against my temples as he raised the hollow end to my head.
I froze as a single whimper escaped my pressed lips, and a vivid memory worked through my mind with crisp details.
Not again.
I won't watch.
"Wait," The Boss said.
The tension in my shoulders eased, but a breath held in my lungs.
"Do it outside. This place is already a dump."
"I' m sorry." I dropped my quivering hands as Javier moved towards me, the ice in my veins melting with adrenaline. "If I tell you everything, what assurance do I have that you will let me go unharmed?"
The Boss laughed, and the card players chuckled as they elbowed one another.
My shoulders hunched, and a searing heat crept up my cheeks. "What's so funny?"
"What is it? You don't know anything, and you've wasted my time, or you know everything and lied to me?"
Sweat slicked my skin as I caressed the rosary in my pocket. "I never said I—"
"I'll spare you the exhausting charade of concocting yet another lie." He rose from his seat and advanced towards me with measured steps. The air crackled with an ominous tension as he closed the distance, his presence looming over me like a gathering storm.
He stopped before me and leaned in, his hand planted on the armrest while his other touched my cheek. He turned my face to the side, his knuckles grazing my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
"No one has this branding without Andrés' approval." His voice cut through the silence like a blade through flesh. "And yet, those who hold the knowledge of his whereabouts or identity now rest in their graves, leaving only you as the solitary link."
How did he know they were in graves?
Has he seen them?
Was he there?
My muscles tensed, and my fingers tingled as my spine straightened.
"Did you kill them?"
"No one escapes Andrés." He released my cheek and shook his head. "How did you?"
A slow exhale escaped my lips, a measured release of tension. My gaze shifted, and I caught sight of Javier, standing beside him, his studious eyes locked onto me. "We waited for the right moment."
The Boss sat on the coffee table corner beside my knees, his stance wide, his elbows braced on his knees. He sat at eye level with me, even in his hunched position, as though I were a mere child. "Explain."
I rolled my lips and adjusted myself, swiping my free hand under my dried, bloody nose, the flakes coming away on the back of my hand like ruby drops of sand. "There was a large party that night. Bigger than normal, but he didn't have a use for us, so he locked us up in our cages. Jorge and I had been planning our escape for months, and this seemed the right time to do it." I shrugged, my gaze cast down. "He smuggled the keys away from one of the guards when they let him out."
My fingers roamed over the rosary as my friend's face came to the forefront. His smile bloomed in my mind even when he was in pain. "We had a short window to exit the compound." I drew in a staccato breath. "They were all passed out drunk, so we got as many as we could before they woke, but we had to leave some."
I frowned, their whispered cries echoing in my ears. Tears blurred his darkened jawline as I tucked my hands between my thighs and rubbed my palms together.
"There was a hole in the wall next to the toilet used only by us. We would chisel away at it when we'd use the restroom." I swiped at the tears falling. Javier tucked his pistol back into his holster behind his back, and my shoulders sagged a little more. "But it wasn't long before they realized we were missing and sent a whole troop of men after us." I sniffled. "We, um… we ran for about three days before they caught us on the ridge line by the river." I squeezed my eyes closed as Jorge's vacant face flashed in my mind.
"How did you survive?" His once demanding tone now held a lilt of kindness and understanding beneath the undertones of curiosity.
"I jumped to my death."
His brow raised, causing his worry lines to deepen.
I pointed to my trapped arm at my chest and the cuts on my face and head. "It didn't work out so well."
A flicker of disbelief danced in his eyes, his lip curling on one side. "They would have made sure you were dead."
"They did." I grimaced. "I woke up as they were coming down the riverbank, and I rolled into the water and let it carry me away."
"And that's it?" He studied me with a whisper of skepticism.
I shook my head and swallowed, glancing between him and Javier. "They'd almost caught me when I was at the border, but Border Patrol got to me in time."
"Tell me where he is." He stood and adjusted his pants down his thick thighs and cleared his throat. He rolled his shoulders back. "Where did you run from?"
"You'll kill me." And if he didn't, Andrés would most definitely kill the rest of the people I left behind.
"I won't."
"I'm sorry." I shook my head and sank away from the man who towered over me. "But I don't trust you. "
"Fine." He gave a curt nod with a side motion. "Just know I gave you a path to freedom, and you didn't take it." He snapped his fingers, and Javier took over the voided space between us. "Put her in the barrel."
My gaze snapped up to the cross tattooed on Javier's face as he snatched me up from the couch. "You should have told him what he wanted to know."
Javier whisked me up the concrete steps towards the cock fighting ring.
"What's the barrel?"
Javier chuckled, a low and rumbling vibration in his throat as he stopped beside a rust-covered barrel, the ground wet beside it, and the lid fixed with a metal grate over the top.
"Get in."
"What?" I glanced inside the barrel. A small pool of liquid coated the bottom of the barrel. "What's in there?" My stomach sank, and an acidic bile bit at the back of my throat.
Javier clenched his jaw, swiped his arm around my waist, and hoisted me into the air, fixing my feet over the entry of the barrel. "I said get in."
"Wait. Wait." My chin trembled, and my voice screeched like a mouse eaten alive by a cat. " Please . Don't do this. I just want to go home."
He dropped me inside the barrel with a wet splash. The liquid seeped into my pants and between my toes as he pressed his hand down onto my head, forcing me into a seated position. "Tráeme la tapa." Get the lid.
I dug my nails into his forearms, clawing my way down to his wrist as I squealed, my weak legs unable to push me to a standing position.
A lid blocked out the light above as Javier's hand came away from my hair, and the lid took his place.
The small grate in the center of the barrel allowed oxygen to pass through and a narrow beam of light.
"Please. Javier. Don't let him do this." My fingers threaded through the grate as I pushed up on the lid, my strength no match for its secured position. The men laughed in the background.
"Don't plead to me. Pray that God delivers a swift death." A smile crept over his lips, and the cross tattoo near his eye crinkled.
I pulled out the rosary from my pocket and held onto it as though it could somehow deliver me from a cruel death, but it hadn't stopped Jorge from dying.
Tucking it back in my pocket, a sob bounced off my metal enclosure, my impending fate looming like an inescapable shadow.
Ice-cold liquid splashed over my face as it sprayed in from the small pipe in the barrel, soaking every bit of my clothing. My teeth chattered as I slammed my hand over the hole, staunching the powerful water to a splattering spray.
"Stop. Please."
My muscles trembled as the pressure pushed against my hands. The water level rose to my bent knees, and the rapid breath in my lungs pinched my broken rib.
The men's laughter penetrated the thick metal as my arm shook and fell away from the hole. Tipping my head to the side, I avoided a direct spray to the face.
"Please. Javier . Please."
I could give him Andrés's location and sacrifice more lives for my own sake.
I could tell them everything they wanted to know about him.
But it wouldn't matter if I died in this barrel. The moment those words spewed from my lips in desperation, I'd die inside.
Andrés had spies around every corner.
He'd know before leaving this warehouse that they were on their way.
Then, Andrés would know I was the one to tell his location, and he'd torture me worse than this man when he found me.
Either way, I would be dead .
Either way, someone would get what they wanted from me.
They always did .
I took a deep breath and wrapped my arm around my waist, my body shivering as the water hit my belly button.
A shadow crossed over the lid, and a face hovered above me.
"Please let me out."
The Boss smiled. "What's the fun in that, Grace?"
"I'm sorry."
The water splashed against my breasts.
"A bit too late for that as well."
A solitary tear forged its path down my cheek, regret gnawing at my very soul like a relentless phantom.
Time slipped through my fingers like grains of sand, the ascending water rising to my ears, threatening to drown me in its dark embrace .
My tears mingled with the encroaching flood, hastening the inevitability of my own end.
I tilted my head upward and pressed my lips to the grate, gasping for breath—the survival instinct embedded in the fiber of our being prolonged the agonizing dance between life and death.
It wouldn't take much to sink into the waters, take a deep breath of water, like I'd done in my mother's womb, and complete the life cycle.
It wouldn't take much.
Then why was it impossible to remove my mouth from the rusty grate?
Water filled the cavities in my eyes, and my world blurred into a wrinkling mess. Filtered words echoed in my ears, the liquid tomb vibrating with the beat of my erratic pulse.
Boom.
The barrel shuttered like someone had taken a bat to the metal sides.
I screamed, jerking my head down into the water, inhaling bits of fluid before I clamped my mouth shut.