MADISON
She crept along the edge of the wall, making her way around the property. The direct route to the hacienda would be quicker but would expose her as she crossed the open expanse of the grounds. She tried not to think about what Kat had asked her to do. First, she would get to the propane. As she circled by the pool area, she glimpsed the forms of a half dozen women, some swimming, others sitting on the edge of the concrete surround, dangling their feet in the water. A party in full swing. One of the women turned toward her, and for a long moment Maddie feared she had been seen and the woman would call out for her to join them, revealing her position. Then the woman turned back to the others and Maddie continued, hastening her steps.
The propane was where Kat had said it would be. The cap was fastened tightly, and when she tested it, she was unable to open it. On the second try it turned, releasing the scent of the fuel. At the scent of it, Maddie swallowed back the sickness in her throat and fumbled to recap the jug, but in her haste, the top fell to the floor and rolled beneath a long table. She stared at the open jug, still tasting sickness in her throat. I can’t, she thought. She turned away and gulped fresh air. She thought of Kat, waiting at the gate. Suppressing a desire to gag, she picked up the jug.
She carried it inside the hacienda and to the far side of the kitchen, near the interior wooden door. The liquid sloshed and she felt the chill of it as a splatter hit her leg. This time she was unable to suppress the gagging instinct. The sound echoed in the kitchen. Quickly, afraid if she paused she would give in to the instinct to run, she tilted the jug until the contents spilled out. For a moment, paralyzed, she confused the smell with that of aviation fuel and was back in the moments following the crash. Every instinct screamed at her to flee. Her muscles tensed with the desire. Before she could give in—Kat needed her to do this—she flicked the lighter and tossed it into the pool of fluid.
Swoosh. The explosion, the heat and force of it, knocked her back. Blinded her. For a moment, she was back in the plane, surrounded by fire, and she cried out. She stumbled and felt the edge of a counter slam against her ribs. The fire shot out, a finger of flame fingering out along the floor, spreading up the wall. Her knees gave way, and the hollow ringing that presaged a panic attack echoed in her ears. She remembered the fuel that had spattered on her leg and cried out again. Over the stove an alarm sounded, deafening her. She fought the darkness, the seductive promise of giving in to it. Kat needed her.
Women ran out of the building in a confusion of noise and panic. Maddie felt a flood of adrenaline surge through her body, her heart beating so fiercely she wondered how her chest could contain it, and she again fought hysteria. The noise of the blaze—explosive, crackling, eating air—added to the frenzy of screaming voices. Maddie used the cover of the confusion to dash across the yard and toward the gate. Would they still be there waiting for her? Or had they been discovered? Behind her, the sound of chaos increased. She thought she heard a gunshot.
As she neared the gate, she searched the shadows frantically. Had they been captured? A sob escaped her throat. She stumbled and fell to her knees, forced herself to rise, to continue, to hope.
She saw the girl first. And then Kat. She ran and collapsed in her sister’s arms.
The sky behind them was lit by the fire rising to the distant sky, a multicolor display that froze their attention. It took a moment for Maddie to remember the fiesta in the village. Had it been only that morning that she had left Playa and come to the clinic?
Men were shouting. Smaller beams of light moved about the grounds, across the drive, along the perimeter of the fence, circling and searching.
The four women watched the guard at the gate, waited for him to head for the fire, but he did not leave his post. Maddie’s heart fell.
The diversion hadn’t worked. There was no way out.
The Mayan tugged at Maddie’s arm and motioned that they were to follow her back toward the compound. Maddie shook her head. To go back was to surrender. The Mayan pulled harder at her arm. Kat and Maddie looked at each other.
Maddie shook her head. “I’m not going back.”
“We have to trust Rosa,” Kat said. Already the Mayan had started back, and Graciela, hesitating only a moment, was following her.
“No,” Maddie hissed. “Let them go. We’ll stay here and wait for the guard to go join the others. Then we can get through the gate.”
Kat turned to look at the guard. He stood at the gatehouse, unmoving. “Rosa got us this far,” Kat whispered. “I think we need to go with her.”
A second gunshot pierced the air.
“Come on,” Kat said. “Before we lose sight of them.”
Soundlessly they filed back, sliding along the wall like moving shadows. Soon, Rosa stepped away from the shelter the wall offered and into the open grounds. The screams and crackling of fire and general chaos provided some coverage, but orange flames illuminated the night and presented the constant threat of exposing them. Sparks from the fire rose into the air, mingling with the women’s screams. After a while, in the deepest corner of the grounds of Retirada de la Playa, the Mayan walked to a small clearing set off by rocks.
“No,” Maddie heard Graciela whimper. “No, Rosa.”
There was a short ledge in the clearing and an opening from which came the sound of water.
Graciela began frantically whispering to Kat.
“What is she saying?” Maddie asked.
“I can’t make it all out,” Kat said. “Something about a blue girl and sacrifice and the cenote.” As if the girl’s fear were contagious, Maddie held back. Rosa urged them toward the sound of water. More lights flashed, moving, searching. Coming closer.
Kat was the first to follow Rosa into the dark opening, a passage made even darker by the contrast with the lights that lit the grounds behind them. She took another step, and then two more. Water lapped at her feet. Maddie followed. The deeper they went, the darker it became. The Mayan had brought them to a cavern. Or a cave. Had she led them here to hide until it was safe to again attempt to escape? Maddie remembered what she had read in the guidebooks about the underground streams and lakes and rivers that flowed beneath the surface of the land. She turned to ask the Mayan if this was where she had led them, but she saw only Kat and Graciela. The girl clung to Kat. The Mayan had slipped away silently, as if all along this was as far as she had planned to lead them. The three of them were on their own. She turned to her sister. “Kat. I think we’re at the head of a river. It flows underground, but it will lead somewhere.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“How far?” Kat’s voice was thin, weak, as if getting to this point had taken the last of her strength.
Maddie didn’t answer. The water was cold, not like the warm water of the sea that lapped at the shores of the village, or where she had snorkeled with Jack. Kat was already shivering.
“I don’t know,” Kat said. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You have to,” Maddie said.
“I can’t make it. You go on.”
“You have to,” Maddie repeated. Now it was her turn to force Kat to be strong. “You can’t quit now.”
Graciela, too, hung back, refusing to join them in the water. Maddie retraced her steps and took the girl by her hand. It was frigid. Maddie wondered how much blood she had lost. She reached into her pocket and found the quartz heart. “Here,” she said to the girl. She turned to Kat. “Tell her it will give her strength.” She listened while Kat talked to the girl. Graciela’s gaze flicked over Maddie’s face, and she curled her slender fingers around the stone. The three walked deeper into the stream.
“Float,” she said to Kat. “I’ll swim and tow you with me. You take Graciela with you. I’m not sure how much blood she’s lost, but I think she’s close to being in shock.” She swam, pulling Kat along, checking to make sure the girl was with them. Once, she reached out an arm to gauge the width of the stream or river or whatever the M
ayan had led them to. She felt coral, the sting of a cut on her hand. She stopped to look back at Graciela, waiting while Kat spoke to her softly in Spanish, her voice encouraging, and then turned her attention ahead. A few feet beyond, a light shone down on the water, forming a cone of illumination. As they swam toward it, she saw it originated from an opening in the limestone overhead. She wondered if the river meandered closer to the fire at the hacienda and it was the flames that were lighting the sky. She kept this thought to herself. They rested there a moment, clinging to each other like toddlers abandoned in a pool. The river continued on into the dark, but Maddie was reluctant to leave the circle of light. She shook off this resistance and tightened her hold on Kat. She nodded toward the girl. “How is she doing?”
“She feels pretty hot. Feverish,” Kat said. “She needs to rest.”
“We have to continue,” Maddie said. “We can’t stay here.”
She pulled Kat into the darkness, felt the tug of Graciela’s weight as Kat towed her along. They continued for a while before another faint beam appeared in the ceiling. When they reached it, they saw that ahead the river divided. She looked at Kat for guidance and then to the Mexican girl.
“Toss a coin,” Kat said weakly.
“Would if I had one,” Maddie replied.
The stream on the left seemed slightly larger, and she started for that. Immediately a hand stopped her. The girl was shaking her head, pointing the other way, saying something insistently.
“What is she saying?” Maddie asked.
“She said we have to go this way,” Kat said. “She said the blue girl told her that is the way out.”
“The blue girl?” Maddie felt a laugh form in her chest as an edge of hysteria took hold. “Jesus. That’s what she said? Again with the blue girl?” She feared the girl was delirious. She looked at the passage she pointed to, which now seemed even smaller, more ominous than the other.
“What do you think?” Kat said. Already, Graciela was heading toward the smaller passage, now taking the lead.
“Oh, what the hell,” Maddie said, and followed. None of them really knew what they were doing. At this point, following Graciela was as good a chance as a coin flip. Soon they were again enveloped by the dark. Kat’s breathing was more labored now. “You’re doing great,” Maddie told her.
Maddie’s own energy was flagging. She had a flashback to the fire in the hacienda kitchen, which had become mixed in her head with the fiery crash that had killed her parents. The frigid water of the river pulled heat from her body. There was only darkness ahead, and she stared into it, trying to see the glimmer of another opening in the ceiling. Her muscles began to lose strength, strained from the effort of towing Kat. She kicked her legs and felt a burning sting as one foot scraped a chunk of coral. It occurred to her again that perhaps the water they had followed did not go beyond the clinic’s walled grounds at all but snaked beneath them. She imagined surfacing—eventually they had to surface. What waited ahead?
They heard the bats first. Then they smelled them. Maddie fought back panic as they whirled around her head. Another opening appeared overhead, and now they could see the lace-winged creatures circling around them. A wing brushed her face.
Kat cried out, her arms flailing.
“Stop it,” Maddie said, making her voice harsh. “We don’t have energy to waste.” She was relieved—and surprised—to see the bats didn’t seem to bother Graciela at all. But they seemed to have absorbed the last of Kat’s will.
“I can’t,” she mewled.
“You have to. Hold on. We’re almost there.” Maddie did not know if this was true. How long had they been in the river?
“We’re never going to get out of here,” Kat cried.
“Don’t say that.” But Kat’s fear was contagious and brought with it a rush of terror. The kernel of the knowledge she held within her, the secret she had barely begun to believe, pushed through. Doggedly, she continued swimming on in the night, just as in her womb, a minute life curled in deeper darkness. If they didn’t find their way out of here, Jack would never know.
To push away panic she escaped into imagination, a trick she had learned in the worst days of the burn unit. She envisioned the masks she would create when she returned home. A series that would tell the story of this odyssey. She imagined incorporating elements of everyone who had been a part of the journey, images depicting aspects of evil and goodness, birth and death, hope and despair, fear and faith, greed and redemptive kindness. A series of humankind. These imaginings helped for a while, but eventually they were no match for the river, the darkness, the whimpering of the Mexican girl, the struggle to keep Kat from sinking beneath the surface.
“Tell me, what are you going to do when we get out of here?” she asked Kat.
Kat laughed hollowly. “When did you turn into the family optimist?”
“Come on,” Maddie urged. “What’s the first thing?”
“After a very hot shower?” Kat said.
“Seriously,” Maddie said. “What are you going to do?”
Kat was silent.
“If you tell me, I’ll tell you a big secret.” Maddie waited. Kat was never able to resist a secret. “A huge one.”
Kat stopped swimming. “Does it involve Motorcycle Man?” For a moment she sounded completely like herself.
“Maybe.”
In the darkness, they heard the girl’s soft crying.
“I’m really afraid she might not make it,” Kat whispered, her concern for Graciela blocking out curiosity about Maddie’s secret.
“Ask her,” Maddie said. “Ask her what she’s going to do when we get out of here.”
In that way, pushing past fatigue, dodging coral and once or twice slicing exposed flesh, pace slowing, they endured the next while, passing another opening in the river roof. The girl told Kat about returning home to her family, and Kat translated for Maddie. Then Kat told about the article she was going to write, exposing Verner. She said after that she was going to find a man she had met while in Playa, one she believed she would find love with.
Maddie thought of the man in the Georgetown gym. “What’s this man’s name?” she said. Her voice was more labored now. Her body cold.
“I’ll tell you after you tell me what your secret is.”
“You were right,” Maddie said. “It is about Motorcycle Man.” She fell silent, allowing herself a sweet fantasy. A life with Jack. A new life. A profound weariness overtook her. Death seemed not an enemy to be fought, but a release to be sought. She slowed her strokes. “Jack.” She said his name aloud. The sorrow of never seeing him again was an actual pain in her body. Now she saw clearly what she had forfeited, the love she had wasted because she had been too cowardly to embrace it. And then, and this was the deepest pain of all, she realized that he would never know she carried his child.
Kat saw light ahead first, not from above now, but straight ahead. “Look,” she said. “We’re almost there.” Maddie took a half dozen strokes and then felt the river bottom strike her foot. She stood. Gathered strength for a moment before reaching out to support Kat and then Graciela. They were all shaking. She saw now how weak they were. Rock outcroppings surrounded the mouth of the river as they emerged from its darkness and stumbled with relief into the soft, moonlit night.
“We made it,” Maddie said. “We made it. We’re safe.”
Almost as soon as she said this, they were pinned by a broad cone of light. Beside her, Kat gave a sob of despair. Graciela fell to the ground. Terrified, Maddie shielded her eyes and tried to focus in the glare after the darkness of the underground river. Then she saw two people coming toward them, freezing them in the light.
VÍCTOR
He shifted his weight. A spring poked up against his thigh. He focused on the road ahead. Since he’d left the village, he had passed only two cars. He hoped not to encounter any federales. He knew they patrolled the road at night, and if they stopped him, he would be arrested. Not for drugs or speeding—he
was careful to drive beneath the limit—but because he held no license. When he had been unable to find his friend Antonio, he had borrowed the truck from Felipe Leones, the carpenter.
He turned to the man on the truck bench at his side and explained that to speed was to risk being arrested.
“How much further?” Jack asked.
Víctor shrugged. “Do not worry,” he said. “We will find them.” An explosion of color lit the sky above. “The fireworks,” Víctor said. “From the fiesta.”
Jack nodded.
“We will find them,” Víctor said again. He said this not only to encourage Jack but because he believed it. Ever since he had sat with Tia Clara and she had looked at him and grasped his hand, a sense had enveloped him that he was with the old ones and they would guide him. And hadn’t they led him to Jack? And together hadn’t they been led to Jorge Portillo and learned that he had driven Madison to Retirada de la Playa? The very name Tia Clara kept whispering. Víctor did not know how far down the highway it was or what they would discover when they arrived, only that he needed to find Katherine.
But that, he knew, was true of life: no way of knowing what was ahead. Always operating blindly and following trails that often diverged, stopping to choose one option at each fork, hoping it was correct but never knowing what might have happened if the decision at the juncture had been different—any more than one could ever have answers to questions that only the dead held.
The road curved and his headlights caught a movement in the field to his right. He eased his foot off the gas. “Probably a wild dog,” he said to Jack. “Prowling at night for prey. Or a stray musk hog.” Then he saw more movement in the field. Raccoons, then. They could destroy a farmer’s field of corn in one night. He switched off the headlights so as not to alarm the animals. He was about to accelerate when Jack grabbed his arm and pointed toward the movement. He made out human figures. If they were part of a drug gang on the way to a meeting, they would be armed. It was best to move on. He scanned the fields on either side of the road and glanced down the road ahead, although with his headlights off he couldn’t see far. Within his sight he could see no other vehicles. He should move on, he thought again. Every villager knew the danger of stepping into another’s business.
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