Down Among the Dead Men

100

By the time Vargas reached the cavern, the men had already put Beth and the baby in the chair.

He pushed frantically through the crowd toward her, watching as the man in the white robe-El Santo, he presumed-placed his hands on Beth’s and the baby’s head, then stepped over to one of the torches and picked it up.

El Santo turned, smiling at them, holding the torch high, and the crowd roared around Vargas, hungry for blood. He continued forward, shoving people aside, hoping he could reach the altar before that torch touched those twigs.

But he knew he wouldn’t make it; there wasn’t enough time.

If only he hadn’t given his gun to Beth.

Reaching under his robe as he moved, he grabbed one of the Jarritos bottles and he knew he was taking a chance, knew he might miss, but he had no choice. So he wound back and hurled the bottle-which he and Ortiz had filled with gasoline-straight at El Santo’s head.

El Santo didn’t see it coming-no one did-and a moment later Vargas saw that his aim had been good, as the bottle slammed against El Santo’s skull and shattered, flooding his face and robe with gasoline — and the torch in his hand exploded in flames, engulfing him quickly as the two men holding Beth stumbled back in surprise, and — Vargas reached the front of the crowd and leaped onto the altar, grabbing hold of Beth and the baby and pulling them away from El Santo, ripping Beth’s robe off, as the old man screamed in agony and fell to the floor, his flesh bubbling hideously as the fire consumed him.

And suddenly the room was filled with screams and cries of horror, people rushing to the altar to help El Santo as others turned and fled and still others swarmed around Vargas and Beth.

Then, from out of nowhere, came another Jarritos bottle, this one with a flaming rag stuffed in it-a Molotov cocktail. It hit the back of one of Vargas and Beth’s attackers and shattered against the cavern floor, bursting into flames. The attacker’s robe caught fire and he screamed, tearing it off, as Vargas saw Ortiz across the cavern, lobbing another Jarritos bottle, creating a distraction as Cristo led the women toward the tunnel they’d started from. There were kids with them now, running alongside as — another bottle hit the ground, exploding in flames — and now Ortiz was firing his handgun into the air, the echo of gunshots scattering people in every direction, as — Vargas ripped his robe and mask off, shouting, “Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

Beth seemed dazed, but she didn’t hesitate, she didn’t falter, as she pulled a wad of cloth from her mouth, then clutched the baby to her chest and ran, she, Vargas, and Ortiz tearing down the tunnel like the last cars on a speeding rain.

As they rounded the bend, Vargas slowed down, reaching for his flashlight, when Beth suddenly shoved the baby at him.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Jen. She’s still back there. We came to get her out of here. I can’t just leave her.”

“All right, I’ll go with you.”

But Beth wasn’t having any. “No,” she said. “You need to take care of Andy.”

Then she turned abruptly and ran back toward the Great Chamber, leaving Vargas with the squirming baby in his arms.