Haunted

CHAPTER 37

CULEBRA HAD IT PEGGED JUST RIGHT. FIFTEEN MINUTES later, I hear the men outside Luis’ shack. I brace myself for the yells that should follow when they check that back room.

But nothing happens. I smell tobacco and pot and realize the men are gathered in front of the shack, enjoying a little after-breakfast smoke. Even Luis has joined his men, sharing a joke that has something to do with what his brother plans for Culebra when he gets his hands on him.

I sit up straighter. They’re saying Santiago will most likely kill Culebra—like Culebra did to the minister’s son.

Culebra is being blamed for killing the minister’s son? How could that be?

The laughter and crude talk continue for the time it takes a joint to burn down to a cinder. I start to think I must have misunderstood. Culebra was long gone when Ramon lost his son and took his revenge. It’s not possible anyone could have thought Culebra committed the murder.

Is it?

Jesus, is that part of Ramon’s trap?

The yell I’ve been expecting erupts, bringing me out of my thoughts with a start. I cross to the tiny window in front and peek out.

Luis is in the doorway, screaming at his men—upbraiding them for leaving the girls unattended—calling for the man who administered the drug that was supposed to knock them out.

A man slinks forward, mumbling that he doesn’t understand how they could have walked away.

Luis draws a revolver from his belt and shoots him—the wound a tiny rose blooming on the bridge of his nose that explodes in a spray of blood and brain matter out the back of his skull.

The men standing beside and behind him are spattered with gore. They recoil.

Luis keeps screaming, waving the revolver. “Busquen las cabronas. Ya. O le mataré a todos.”

As one, they disperse, running in different directions like rats startled by a cobra.

No one approaches the church.

Yet.

There are six men that I can see—they run from shack to shack, hauling men and families out as they search their homes. They gather the villagers by the well and Luis stands guard over them while the search goes on.

One comes close to the door of the church. I hug the wall behind the door as he looks inside. If he makes a move for the vestibule, I’ll kill him. He doesn’t. He slams the door behind him and continues to the next shack.

They hit Culebra’s shack, too. But since he’s alone inside with a guard, they leave him. He reaches out.

You got the girls out, I see.

A disturbing thought strikes me, knotting my stomach. Luis is going nuts. He killed the man responsible for chloroforming the girls. He’s gathering the villagers by the well. You don’t think he’ll—

The sound of a gunshot brings an abrupt halt to our dialogue. My heart thuds against my ribs as I peek out once again.

Luis has one of the villagers by the arm. The man slumps into him, bleeding from a wound in his lower thigh. He lets him fall to the ground, goes to the next. Shoots him in the leg, too, and moves on. The screams of the wounded men pierce my heart.

Jesus, Culebra. He’s shooting all the men. Wounding them but not killing them.

A spark of dark humor comes through. Of course not. Can’t deplete his workforce by killing them, can he?

What the fuck should I do?

Nothing. Culebra’s tone is obstinate, resolute. There’s nothing you can do. Protect the girls.

I won’t him let him shoot the children. If he starts shooting the children—

Then do what you must.

I watch in disbelief and wait for the shooting to stop. It does, ten rounds later. All the men lie on the ground, moaning, bleeding, their wives and children cowering around them. The smell of spilled blood reaches me inside the church, makes vampire urges flex and chafe to be set free.

Luis, satisfied at last that the villagers knew nothing of how the girls escaped, turns and starts back to his shack. His guards stand by wide-eyed with fear at what Luis will do next. He stops at the door and barks an order that sends them scurrying around the perimeter of the village to expand the search. They leave eagerly, anxious for any excuse to put distance between themselves and their rabid boss.

No one comes near the church again.

I should have stopped him, I tell Culebra.

And then what? We’d be no better off. We don’t want Luis, we want his brother. When Ramon comes back and we have Max on our side, then we act.

I think you want Ramon more than you want Santiago, I say quietly.

He doesn’t deny it. His thoughts are suddenly closed to me.

Why?

His mind doesn’t reopen to me for a full minute. Then, I heard something Ramon said to one of the guards. When he was beating me. He took credit for killing my family. For leaving me to die in that burning car.

I thought you said it was the boss.

I wasn’t there when my family was killed. I always figured it was the boss. I didn’t see who was in the car when I was shot. But today, I learned the truth. I heard it from Ramon’s own lips.

I think of hearing Luis tell his men that Culebra was responsible for the minister’s death. How his brother would kill him. Ramon was setting him up again. Culebra, there’s more—

A sound from the direction of the vestibule. A scraping, like a person struggling to stand up. A moan.

Culebra, I have to go. The girls are coming to.

The next instant he’s gone and I’m rushing to the vestibule. When I open the door, one of the girls is on her feet, wild-eyed and looking around frantically. I see it in her eyes—she’s looking for a weapon. When she sees me and realizes it isn’t Luis or one of his men, her expression shifts to confusion. But the instinct to fight remains strong. She backs into a corner, her fists balled at her side.

I hold up my hands. “I won’t hurt you,” I whisper in Spanish. I put a finger to my lips and glance toward the window. “You must be quiet. El Jefe is looking for you.”

The name ignites fear in her eyes but also understanding. She hasn’t been here long enough to have been reduced to the state Adelita was. Her clothes are still intact on her small frame, her hair still shiny and held back from her childlike face with a barrette. She can’t be more than fourteen.

The others begin to regain consciousness, too. One retches from the effects of the drug, her shoulders heaving. I hold her hair away from her face. The girl who first awoke steps beside me and takes my place, holding the sick girl’s head and crooning softly to her.

She calls her hermana—sister. This one can’t be more than twelve.

Revulsion comes in waves of red-hot fury. I want Luis to find us so I can tear him to pieces in front of this child’s eyes.

Not yet, Anna. Culebra has honed in on my emotions. You will get your chance, I promise you.

Luis is mine.

He is yours.

The young girl has stopped heaving. The older sister hugs her to her chest, whispering that they must be quiet. All four now huddle together, eyes on me.

I want nothing more than to give them the assurance they seek. That I can wake them from this nightmare and get them to safety.

I need a plan. And I need a diversion.

I need Max.