“We can’t leave him.”
Emiliano shakes his head. “Our trip is over, then. If you want to save him, the only way to do that is for one of us to go get help while the other one tries to stem the bleeding. The main road is about four miles west of here. You can flag a car, call for help.”
“Me?”
“Sara, listen to me. If we want to save that man’s life, you won’t make it to Chicago. Do you still have the thumb drive with all your asylum documents?”
Sara pats the pocket of her leg. “Yes.” Emiliano never ceases to amaze her. It was so smart of him to have her keep the thumb drive in her pocket rather than her backpack.
“Get help and then turn yourself over to the Border Patrol. Tell them you’re seeking asylum.”
“And you?” The idea of leaving Emiliano scares her more than anything that’s happened that morning.
“I’ll wait with the guy, putting pressure on his wound. I’ll be able to tell when a car is coming before it gets here. When I see the dust, I’ll run and hide behind those rocks on that hill over there. Then after everyone is gone, I’ll head back down that road, the way we came.”
“Ahhh!”
They both turn in the direction of Lester’s cry.
“We should leave him for the buzzards,” Emiliano says. “That man is no different than the people who shot up our house or the man who owns that cell phone back there. He works for them.”
Sara notices pain flashing across Emiliano’s face. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing. I stepped on a cactus. I’ll be all right.” The pain in his foot is nothing, nothing, compared to the pain in his heart. There’s no more denying the truth. Perla Rubi is the reason they were found. His sister was almost raped and killed because of Perla Rubi or her father, or both.
Strength ebbs from his legs. He lowers himself to the ground. Sara kneels and then sits next to him.
“You told Perla Rubi where we were crossing, didn’t you?”
Emiliano nods. He closes his eyes and speaks. “She probably mentioned it to her father. Her father …”
“Knows Hinojosa.”
He opens his eyes and looks straight ahead. “Or knows people that know him. It’s like a spiderweb. Every thread is connected.”
Sara holds her head in her hands. It will take a long time for her to figure it all out, but she understands enough. She sees clearly what has been tearing Emiliano apart and the life that awaits him.
“Emiliano, do you really want to go back?”
You’re protected. That’s one of the benefits of our friendship … When you come back, you’ll be okay.
The men were taking Sara. They were going to leave him behind, knowing that he would free himself in a short time. They were letting him go because he is protected. The thought that it was Sara they were after and not him sickens him.
And yet even now, despite all he knows, he still wants to return to Perla Rubi. Even after her father told Hinojosa where they were going to cross, he still wants to be a part of her world. He doesn’t understand how this can be. It doesn’t make sense. Yet there it is. All he knows is that he feels a powerful pull toward Perla Rubi and Armando and Mr. and Mrs. Esmeralda and even Alfredo Reyes. Those people accepted him, welcomed him, treasured him even. They never abandoned him or broke any promises to him. And if they are dirty, well, so is he.
His silence is the answer to Sara’s question.
She stares at him until the unrelenting sorrow in her eyes makes him stand. She stands as well. “All right. I’ll go because I don’t want that man to die. I still have a conscience.” She pauses long enough for him to understand the implied accusation. What the hell has happened to her brother? Emiliano, whose compass always pointed toward goodness. When he looks up, she says, her voice quivering, “If you want to return and be part of that spiderweb, as you call it, then go ahead. But first you’re going to take Hinojosa’s cell phone to Sanderson. When you get there, you’re going to e-mail Yoya—her e-mail’s in the pouch—and then you’re going to send the phone wherever she tells you. I put all of our lives in danger for that cell phone. I gave up my home, my job, my mami, to save some poor girls. I sacrificed everything. Mami sacrificed being with the two people she loves the most. I don’t want my sacrifice and Mami’s to be for nothing.
“And when you get to Sanderson, you’re going to tell Papá that I asked for asylum, and you’re going to make sure he finds out where I’m being detained so he can vouch for me. You’re going to do all that, Emiliano, because otherwise this is all for nothing, and if it’s for nothing, it’s because of you. Because of you. Do you understand? And you can’t let all I’ve done be lost.”
Emiliano watches the tears make wet tracks on Sara’s dusty face. He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, but he’s no longer sure that any words coming out of his mouth will be true. Whatever comes out has a good chance of being a lie and he doesn’t want to lie to her.
“I’ll go to Sanderson. I’ll take care of the cell phone. I’ll tell our father where you are before I return to Mexico.”
He can give her that.
Emiliano watches Sara return to the place where they slept, pick her hat up from the ground, climb out of the gully, and walk away. He waits and waits, hoping that she will turn around and say good-bye, and when she doesn’t, something wants to break in him.
When she is small in the distance, he looks around. There are rocky hills about three hundred yards to the east where he will run when he sees a car coming. It will take Sara an hour or so to reach the main highway, so there’s no need to worry about a vehicle just yet. If only they had spent the night up in those craggy hills. How did the men find them?
He looks down and sees the footprints made by Sara’s shoes. The men must have stopped their car at the end of the dirt road and simply followed his and Sara’s footprints. How stupid on his part not to anticipate that. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, as Brother Patricio liked to say.
The wounded man is making little whiny sounds like a baby who’s tired himself out from bawling. Emiliano takes a deep breath. An agave cactus with red flowers blooms nearby. He kneels next to it and carefully cuts one of the pads from the joint. He grabs the pad with his thumb and index finger, taking care not to touch any of the protruding thorns.
When he gets back to Lester, Emiliano digs his knife from his pocket and opens the blade. He uses the knife to tear away the man’s pants up to his thigh. The leg is now uncovered from the upper thigh to the edge of his cowboy boots. Emiliano considers taking the boots off the man but decides to leave them on. The tight boot with its skinny point is probably slowing down the flow of blood.
Emiliano cuts the cactus pad in half and shaves off the edge so that the pulp of the plant begins to ooze. Then he rubs the viscous pulp on the wound. The gooey substance will ease the pain and slow the bleeding. He rubs gently around the edges first and finally presses the edge of the cactus hard into the bullet hole.
There’s a long, muffled scream from Lester.
Emiliano can feel small pieces of shattered bone under the skin. The patella—he remembers the name from his first aid books—is mush. He folds Lester’s jacket and places it on top of the rock supporting the middle of the leg. There is white spittle coming out of the man’s mouth, snot from his nose, and tears from his eyes. Emiliano takes his knife and makes a hole in the sleeve of the man’s denim shirt. From that hole, he rips out a large swath of the shirt and uses it as a bandage to press on the wound. The blood is flowing slower now, but still flowing. The man’s got maybe one hour before he goes into shock and then a coma. Two hours, if Emiliano keeps pressing on the wound. Emiliano sits on the ground and pushes down on the bandage.