Knowing we’re headed into the mountains with their narrow roads, steep drop-offs, and white-knuckled turns, I offer some advice.
“Keep your eyes closed.” She gives me the eye, like I’m a lunatic, and I can’t help but laugh. “Try to rest.” I give her knee a squeeze and bracket her in, giving her as much support as I can.
As expected, the bus fills as we get closer and closer to civilization. As people pile in, the music, which was moderate when we boarded and only somewhat annoying, blasts at deafening levels. People wedge themselves three and four to a seat and crowd the aisle. The roar of the engine only adds to the pervasive noise. And, of course, there are the clucks of many a chicken sprinkled in for effect.
One of the feathered creatures stares out at me from the luggage rack overhead. Stuffed into a backpack, its head sticks out with beady eyes taking everything in. There’s another bag that moves more than a piece of luggage should. I’m guessing a chicken, or two, is in there as well. One youth hops on board with a shoebox full of chicks. He’s got over a dozen of them crammed into the small space. An old man with a bleating goat joins us at the next stop.
Somehow, through all that chaos, the driver displays a magical ability to hear passengers call out for a stop.
Like he did at the village where we got on, most stops are more of a slow roll. Passengers jump on and off with ease as the bus keeps moving. As for speed, there may be speed limits, not that they apply to us. Our driver takes the road as fast as possible, barely slowing for the curves. We careen wildly back and forth as the miles pass behind us and the sun slowly sinks below the horizon.
I tilt my head up to the ceiling and blow out my breath. It’s going to be another long night.
Thirty-Six
Eve
Hours pass as we bounce around in the crazy bus overflowing with people, chickens, two monkeys, and one bleating goat. My head throbs from the loud music and the constant roar of the engine as the driver works through the gears.
Once we hit the mountains, I’m happy for the sun to steal the light. Steep roads, winding curves, cliffs dropping off into the darkness?
It’s a miracle we survive.
Max finally calls out to the driver as we pull into what I can properly call a real town.
We jump off the bus as it barely comes to a stop in the middle of a town square. At the north end, a beautiful church stands watch over the village. There’s a pub, or do we call it a tavern in this part of the world? Who knows, and I don’t care.
“What now?” My grip on Max’s hand tightens. This place terrifies me, but with Max by my side, I feel marginally safe.
“We find a place to spend the night.” Max’s shoulders slump from exhaustion, reminding me he’s going on two days without anything more than a brief nap.
“How do we do that?”
He points toward the church. “We pay our respects and ask the priest.” Max takes off toward the church as I keep up with his long stride.
The door swings open and we enter the hushed quiet of a chapel. Max moves over to rows and rows of flickering candles. He lights a taper, then one of the candles. As he blows out the taper, a priest wanders out.
“Buenas noches. ¿Son ustedes visitantes? ¿Puedo ayudarles?” The priest eyes the rifle on Max’s back with interest, but it doesn’t seem to faze him.
“¿Habla inglés?” Max speaks to the priest while I watch the candles’ flames flicker, casting ethereal shadows on the walls.
I’m not a religious person. Wasn’t raised that way, but I always feel an overwhelming sense of peace when I step inside a church. That feeling overcomes me now, a sense of the outside world fading away.
“Yes, welcome. How may I help you?”
“Thank you, father. We are weary travelers seeking rooms for the night.” Max’s formality is strange but respectful. “Is there somewhere you might recommend?”
The two men talk for a time while I wander down toward the front and sit in one of the pews. Not sure what really overcomes me, but I bow my head and say a short prayer.
I pray for Max, hoping the infection will recede. I pray for the girls his team of Guardians hopefully rescued.
Max seems to think everything went well, but how can he know? He hasn’t been in contact with anyone from the Guardians. I wish I had the degree of faith in myself that he does in his team.
I even say a prayer for my father.
I don’t understand what I saw on that ledger. He and Benefield are connected. There’s no way to deny it, but, despite my personal issues with my father, I really believe he’s an honest man. Something had to have happened. At least that’s what I hope, and I say a little prayer hoping it helps.
“You ready?” Max walks up behind me, laying a hand on my shoulder.
I place my hand over his and take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. When I look up at him, all I see is devotion shining in his eyes. It makes my heart skip a beat. Whatever this is between us, it feels right.
We click.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a small inn a block away.” Max pulls out a small stack of bills from his front pocket. He counts off two of them, then shoves the rest back deep in his pocket.
“Where did you get money?”
“Made a donation to the church.”
“You did?” My brows tug together. “What did you donate?”
“My watch. I don’t need it and he can get far more for it than I ever could.”
“And he gave you cash?”
“Much less than the watch is worth and far more than we need to get a room. You want to stay for a bit?” He glances toward the alter.
I suddenly realize he must’ve been waiting for me while I prayed.
“Um, I’m good.” Suddenly, I feel self-conscious.
Max and I thank the priest, who eyes his shiny new watch more than he pays attention to us. We take off to find the small inn, walking hand in hand the whole way.
After a short conversation in broken Spanish, Max has an honest to goodness, old-fashioned key in his hand. We wander up to the second-floor balcony. Our room is #1, but Max takes us all the way to the last room, #6.
“But…” I tug on his arm, thinking he’s made a mistake.
Max shakes his head and presses a finger over his lips. He goes to the last room, does something to the lock, and we walk in. After he closes the door behind us I can’t help but ask.
“Why are we in the wrong room? And how did you do that?”
“We’re in this room because, if Benefield’s men find us, which they’ll do eventually, they’re going to break into the other room first. This gives us a chance to hear them before they start looking in the other rooms.”
Wow, that never would’ve occurred to me.
“How did you know this room was empty?”
“All the keys were hanging on the wall.” He looks at me like that’s something I should’ve noticed.
But I didn’t. I totally suck at this Guardian thing.
The room isn’t much, but it has two things I need. Three actually. There’s a full-sized bed and a bathroom with a shower/tub combination. Feels like I’m at the Ritz after spending last night in the jungle.