The Devil's bounty

Fifty-one

Startled by the sound of retching, Hector twisted in the driver’s seat, just in time to catch the vomit as it arced from back seat to front. It splashed on the side of his face. His foot tapped at the brake as he piloted the Escalade to the side of the road. Next to him, Charlie must have caught some too because he exclaimed, ‘Jesus Christ,’ as Julia retched again.

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.

Hector brought the Escalade to a complete stop and turned to assess the damage. The Escalade would have to be cleaned. He could do it when they got to the ranch.

Charlie swiped at the vomit on his jacket. ‘Jesus, that’s disgusting,’ he said, opening the passenger door before Hector could stop him.

‘Where are you going?’ Hector asked.

Charlie shot him a you’re-only-the-help look and kept going. ‘To get some air. It freakin’ reeks in here.’

‘Can I get some air too?’ Julia asked, eyes pleading.

‘No,’ said Hector, firmly. In the seconds of confusion he had forgotten about the vehicle that had been following them. Now, as he checked the mirrors, he couldn’t see it anywhere. Something told him it had kept going, driving past when he had stopped, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe it hadn’t been following them after all. If it was someone who intended doing them harm surely they would have taken this opportunity.

‘Stay where you are,’ he said, and clambered out to retrieve Charlie. He slammed the door behind him and clicked the key fob to lock it. Let Julia suffer the stench.

A chill desert breeze caught him off guard. Charlie was standing a few feet at the back of the Escalade, hands cupped protectively around the red tip of a cigarette as the wind bit at the tobacco. Hector took a moment to study their surroundings. There was traffic, but not much. Maybe one car passing in either direction every forty seconds or so. He could see the city lights in the far distance. There was a metal crash barrier, and beyond that scrub desert. He glanced up into the night sky. A full moon hung high overhead.

He peered down the road for the RAV 4 or any other vehicle that might have stopped but there was nothing and no one. He walked to the back of the Escalade and repeated the procedure as a bus whizzed by on its way home from a maquiladora.

No one would stop. Hector knew that much. If someone broke down here it was their hard luck. It wasn’t only men such as him who were paranoid. It was the defining feeling on this side of the border. Good Samaritans had long since been snuffed out. A car at the side of the road would only be approached by someone looking for trouble.

This was his opportunity. The girl’s sickness had been a signal. He turned to Charlie. ‘Finish your cigarette.’

Charlie took a long final drag and crushed the butt under his heel. He started back towards the front passenger seat but Hector blocked his path with a meaty arm. Beyond the crash barrier the ground sloped down for about seven feet before levelling off and extending into the distance.

‘Wait down there,’ Hector said, with a nod towards the open ground.

Charlie stared at him. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘It’s not what I’m going to do, Senor Mendez. It’s what you are going to do.’