Chapter 27
Triana~
The Rio Grande River was right in front of me, but so was the wrought iron fencing that spanned the entire Mexican border.
The irony wasn’t lost on me, either. Once upon a time, there’d been fences erected to keep Mexicans out of the US, but after the new movement had been enacted, Mexico had spent billions on a wrought iron fence to keep Americans out, and every one-hundred yards, there was a border patrol agent stationed in an observation deck, armed and ready to shoot any trespassers that came their way.
Luckily, it was already nightfall, so even though there was a chain of bright lights that lit up the fence, it was still dark enough on my side of the river to hide.
Still, it was clear that I was going to have to study the fencing during the day to look for any blind spots.
Right now, there didn’t look to be any, but I wasn’t going to let that discourage me.
I’d made it this far, and I was still legally within my right to be here.
It wasn’t until I crossed that river that I’d officially be a fugitive on the run.
Another problem was that I had no idea what was beyond the fence.
I had no idea how far the border patrol extended, and for all I knew, there could be another slew of guards another mile back.
While I knew that Mexico hated the RNA with a passion, I still wasn’t sure of just how deep that hatred ran.
Considering how things had ended between the two nations, I suspected that it ran pretty deep.
It was also apparent that I needed another good night’s sleep before attempting to cross.
I was hungry, dirty, exhausted, and my feet had blisters for days.
It hurt to walk, and so I couldn’t even imagine how excruciating it’d be to have to run for my life, but it couldn’t be helped.
I was not going to be gun downed because of some goddamn blisters.
I also had no idea if the water was freezing or warm.
I had no idea how deep it ran, though it looked like I could hit it waist high, even if I couldn’t really tell right now.
The reflection off the moon made it look like the river was alive, but was it a calm and peaceful existence, or was it wild and unconcerned with human life?
As I made my way under a sand cliff, I tried to think of all the people that had come here before me, and even though times had been easier back then, thousands of people had managed to come and go through this crossing, and so I just had to find an opening.
Yeah, the fence was wrought iron, but it wasn’t a solid concrete block of a wall.
A wrought iron fence also suggested that there might be gates built in somewhere.
I mean, to block off complete access could lead to all kinds of problems and wasn’t very smart strategically.
I also wasn’t sure which day of the week it was, but I was fairly certain that it was Wednesday, and how many people thought to cross the border on a random Wednesday?
Surely, they were more vigilant during the weekends, right?
I mean, would they really be expecting a lone woman to be making her way into Mexico like this?
Either way, I wasn’t going to find the answers to those questions tonight. I wasn’t going to figure anything out tonight, so my best bet was to find my way back about a mile, get lost in the wilderness again, then get some sleep before tackling this shit in the morning.
It also sucked to have to admit that Kairo might have been right about my naivety on the subject.
I’d been so certain that determination would give me all the answers, but I’d been wrong.
Determination got you only so far, and while I still wasn’t going to change my mind, this wasn’t going to be as easy as I had assumed.
In fact, I was probably going to have to walk the entire length of the region to find a possible opening to cross at, and my feet did not want to hear that.
I let out a deep breath before grabbing my bag to sneak back the way that I came, but as soon as I popped out from underneath the cliff, I was grabbed by the arm, a scream bursting past my lips, fear taking hold immediately.
“Well, what do we have here?” came a voice that I didn’t recognize, and my entire body began to tremble with dread.
“Are you lost?” a second man asked, and it only took a few seconds to take in their uniforms, identifying them as Mexican border patrol agents.
The words were caught in my throat, but I knew-knew-that I was still on Rancher Hills land.
Even this close to the river, I was still on the RNA side, and so I had no idea what was happening.
I had no idea why they were here when I knew enough to know that it was illegal for them to be on this side of the river.
They weren’t allowed to patrol this side, so what in the fuck was going on?
What were they doing here, and how had they seen me?
“?Estás perdido?” the second guy repeated, and while I wasn’t exactly lost, I very well couldn’t tell them that.
“What...what are you doing?” I asked when I finally found my voice. “You’re...you’re not...not supposed to be here.”
“Oh, but it is you who is not where they’re supposed to be,” the first agent countered.
“I’m...I’m on Rancher Hills,” I insisted. “I can...can be here.”
“But why are you dirty, tired-looking, and carrying a bag that I bet has only the most important of things for you?” the second agent asked, sounding like a complete jackass.
“It doesn’t matter what...what I have,” I argued. “I’m on Rancher Hills. I’m on RNA land.”
“Says who?” the first agent sneered, and a new level of fear crawled up my spine. “As far as I can see, you were crossing the river. Just ask Hector here.”
“Yeah, it was unfortunate that we caught you red-handed, querida,” Hector chuckled darkly, and him calling me darling did not sound flattering.
This was my worst fears come true. I’d been mentally resigned to getting shot and possibly losing my life doing this, but I hadn’t ever imagined that I’d be captured like this.
It never occurred to me that any of the border patrol agents would behave so unscrupulously, and I probably deserved this for being so arrogantly stupid.
For some reason, because the world hated the RNA, I’d been under the impression that other countries had been held to a higher standard, but I was wrong.
People sucked, no matter which country they lived in.
“You can’t do this,” I said, trying to sound a lot more confident than I felt. “You’re the ones trespassing, and it’ll be kidnapping if you take me anywhere.”
They both laughed, and their laughter sounded genuine. They really found this funny, and I could only imagine how many times they’d done this before. They didn’t appear nervous or worried that they might get caught, so how many times had these two men abused their power?
“Again, says who?” the first agent chuckled. “It’s your word against ours, and who’s going to believe you?”
“Maybe her last name is Cortez,” Hector laughed, and he laughed because they both knew that it wasn’t. None of Benicio Cortez’s family would be engaged in something like this.
“Too bad,” the other guy remarked. “That would make for one hell of a headline.”
“We need to go, Benito,” Hector said. “We can’t be on this side for too long.”
Once upon a time, it’d been the other way around, and it’d been US border patrol agents who had made sure that illegal immigrants hadn’t crossed over into this country, but once the roles had been reversed, there’d been no more need for them since no one had been interested in coming here anymore.
So, now the RNA had a monthly patrol that ‘checked in’ on the border, but nothing more.
Mexico and Canada were now in charge of securing the borders, and they were doing a well-enough job that the RNA didn’t concern itself with illegal crossings that much anymore.
No...they were more worried with the region borders than anything else.
“Come on, little trespasser,” Benito said. “You’re coming with us.”
“No, I’m not!” I yelled. “You can’t do this!”
I would have fallen from the force of Benito’s backhanded slap if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on my arm, and the pain that radiated down my neck told me that my face was going to be bruised in the morning. The blood coating the inside of my cheek also confirmed it.
“One more word from you, and getting arrested for trespassing will be the least of your worries,” Benito sneered, and I could feel bile threatening to rise up my throat.
“Don’t be upset, querida,” Hector smirked. “I’m sure you’ll be perfectly okay in one of our fine Mexican prisons.”
I wanted to beg. I wanted to plead with them to do the right thing, but I knew that it’d fall on deaf ears. There were good cops and bad cops, and these two were clearly a part of the latter. They were enjoying this, and so there was no point in trying to reason with them.
“Does your family have money, querida?” Benito asked. “How much would they pay to get you back?”
Once upon a time, my answer would have been to tell them that my family would pay whatever they needed to get me back unharmed, but now I didn’t know the answer to that question. Right now, I didn’t know anything other than that I was screwed.
I was screwed, and it was nobody’s fault but my own.