by Marie Reyes
“I have things to do too.” She crossed her arms and turned away.
“Are you serious?” He hadn’t realized how loud his voice had gotten, and the driver shot him a glance through the rear-view mirror. He lowered his voice. “You’re not going to do any good if you’re dead. Do you want your parents to mourn two daughters, what good would that do?”
“But they’re not mourning Michael, they’re in limbo. They keep thinking one day she’s just going to walk in the front door with some crazy story, like oh hey mom, hey dad, so I ended up working at this yoga retreat, and yeah, sorry I forgot to call you for a year. Oh right, the kidnapping. Yeah, I got away, sorry, did I forget to tell you that?”
“Well, I think it’s time that everybody faced facts. People die. Life is cruel and random. Justice is some made up concept to make people feel better about the fact that the world is just one big chaotic mess. It means nothing.”
“Fuck you, Michael. You don’t know what it’s like.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I—”
“Can you just stop talking, please.” She turned her back to him and stared out of the window.
His chest tightened as he realized he had just alienated the one person who he gave a shit about. Why couldn’t he just contain his outburst? It wasn’t Josie’s fault that life had dealt him a deck of crap. It was the unfairness of it all he couldn’t stand. How someone as useless as him, someone who didn’t even want to live, would still be here, yet Josie’s sister wasn’t. How his mother could die randomly, yet his neglectful piece-of-shit dad was alive and well.
“Hear me out.” He reached out to her. “I will do whatever it takes to help you find out what happened. Even if I have to march up to El Verdugo myself. Trust me, I have absolutely nothing to lose, except for you.”
She turned her head to face him, her expression softening. “I’m all you have to lose? Wow. I feel kinda bad for you right now. I mean, that is sad.”
“I’m tragic. What else can I say?” He shrugged.
“Seriously though, I’ve been so caught up in all of my baggage. I’m sorry. I feel like you have a story to tell. Why are you here? What’s your deal, Michael?”
“To be honest, I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Oh my god, that’s such a cop out. Come on. Tell me one thing about yourself that no-one else knows.”
“Trust me, there’s nothing to know. My life is as dull as they come.” He averted his gaze to the seat in front of him.
“I don’t believe that,” she pushed.
“Okay, fine. One fact about me. I was homeless once.”
“Woah crap. That’s heavy. What happened?” She leaned in even closer.
“I don’t really want to go into it.”
“You can’t drop a bomb like that on me and then not tell me how it happened.” She looked at him expectantly, but he didn’t speak. “Fine. I get it. You’re the strong and silent type.”
“I’m the silent and silent type.” He joked, glad she had dropped it.
“On a serious note though, the guy Miguel mentioned. Samuel’s boss. El Verdugo. You know what the name El Verdugo means, right?” Her face turned deadly serious.
“No, what?” he asked, slumped in his chair.
“It means, The Executioner.”
Michael sat upright. “Oh, shit.”
Chapter Twenty Two
The driver left them on a random street in Chetumal, as Miguel did not want them to know where he lived. “This way,” Miguel announced. His plan was to get his wife, child, and anything that they could fit into their arms and to get far, far away. Miguel had people he could reach out to. He agreed to them coming to his house so that they could take some fresh clothes and a charger for Josie’s phone. Beyond that, they had no plan.
As they continued walking, the houses went from one story, to two stories, with balconies overlooking a church. There were still little reminders of where they were. Spikes on the top of the walls to stop people climbing up, and bars in front of the windows, but they were ornate enough to distract you from their purpose. A group of locals congregated at the end of the street, and Michael stopped Josie in her tracks. Miguel burst into a sprint, running towards the crowd, and Josie went to follow him.
“Careful,” Michael warned. There was something about the look on the people’s faces that made him go cold. Open-mouthed, eyes wide, and holding their hands up to their faces, in the blur of chaos they resembled The Scream. Whatever they had seen had rendered them into the horror of that painting. When Miguel got to the end of the road, he fell to his knees, and the sound that came out of his mouth, was one Michael recognized, a sound he knew too well, when there was nothing left, and you couldn’t control the noises that came out of you, when every last modicum of inhibition had evaporated, and pain was the only thing left.
They inched towards the scene until they could see what everyone was looking at. The body hung from the balcony, dangling limply like a puppet, slit down the middle and entrails hanging down from the cavity, blood dripping onto the floor below. Her skin looked grey.
“Oh god.” Josie gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth.
Michael wanted to run to Miguel, but his legs were planted to the spot. The image tore him in two. He couldn’t comprehend what was happening in Miguel’s mind right at that moment. Josie ducked behind a garbage can and her body convulsed as she vomited. He didn’t want to, but for some reason he looked back at what he believed to be Miguel’s wife. More people had gathered, like rubberneckers at the site of a car crash. Miguel’s cries of grief still filled the air. He had to help, not that he could, but he felt the need to be at his side. As Michael got closer, men in black uniform infiltrated the crowd, they looked like police officers. Hopefully now they would take this seriously. One of the men grabbed Miguel’s arms and cuffed them behind his back.
“No. What are you doing?” Michael shouted, but his voice was lost in the noise of the crowd.
Miguel tried to wrestle his way free, thrashing around like an animal upon hearing the door of a trap shut behind them. The harder he struggled, the more officers came to restrain him, pinning him roughly against the floor, his cheek pressed against the concrete. It was obvious—the moment he gave up—his body, lifeless on the floor. The men in black hoisted him up, dragging him towards the police car.
“We need to get out of here.” Michael tried to get her to move, but she lowered herself down against the wall, snatching in quick shallow breaths. “Come on. We know who did this, and we’re next.” He stood above her offering a hand, but she started shaking on the floor. Lowing himself down to her level, he took her tear soaked cheeks in his hands. “Just breathe okay. Nice and slow.” He inched back to give her some space. If years of experience had taught him anything, it taught him that you couldn’t fight your way through a panic attack with sheer force. He peered around the corner of the wall that shielded them. The body had already been cut down, and the house swarmed with police. As he turned back, her breathing had already calmed somewhat. Michael wiped tears away from his face that he hadn’t even realized were there. “Are you okay to move now? We can find somewhere safer, and then you can take all the time you need.” She nodded, and Michael pulled her up with both hands.
***
“I can’t walk anymore.” Josie sat on a wall, shoulders slumped and her arms hanging down limply in front of her.
“We can take a break.” Michael looked around for anywhere suitable to lay-low for a few minutes but came up blank. They had no money. No belongings. Nothing. He put his hands in his empty pockets and the anxiety rose in him like bile.
“We’re fucked Michael.”
The panic in her voice made him feel even worse. Even though the air was warm, he shivered, and the streets looked cold and grey. Any last bit of charm had long since vanished. “Maybe we go to the police.” He had no idea what else to suggest at this point.
Josie snorted. “I can’t even imag
ine where I would begin explaining this. Why did they arrest Miguel, I wonder? Do they know about Julio?”
“Maybe, although I don’t think it’s in Samuel’s interest for them to look too far into all that.” He tried his best to sound convincing.
“I don’t trust the police. We need to go to the American consulate. I think that’s our safest bet. We need someone on our side. The way they arrested Miguel was just…”
“Where is the consulate?” It was time to get practical, not to waste time speculating.
“The consulate is in Cancún. The embassy is in Mexico city.”
“What’s the difference?” he asked, wondering if he had just asked one of those questions that should have been obvious.
Josie seemed to be in her own world now, staring off into the distance. “I don’t even have change for a pay-phone. You ever begged for money before?” She rifled through her pockets but came up empty.
“I have an idea.” Michael started walking in the direction of the waterfront.
Chapter Twenty Three
If there was going to be a hotel or hostel anywhere, it was going to be by the sea. His eyes scanned the line of shops along the waterfront, starting to recognize the scenery from where Julio had taken them to go on his yacht. A fantasy popped into his head of riding Julio’s boat off into the sunset with Josie and living off the land on an island in Belize. He could learn to fish.
There was something comforting about walking alongside the bars and restaurants. No matter where you were in the world, beer always brought people together. Watching others sat outside with cold drinks, relaxing, laughing, and joking began to make Michael envious. That could have been him working his way through the cocktail list back in Tulum. Their beaming smiles made him angry. Why did some people find it so easy to be happy?
“What about there?” Josie stopped and pointed towards a building a few yards ahead of them.
“Perfect.” Michael burst into a jog towards the hostel and slowed down as they reached the entrance. They walked in through the two open doors, a group of travelers huddled in a nook in the corner, all talking over each other with excitable energy.
“Can I help?” The lady behind the counter asked. Her black hair slicked back in a ponytail tight enough to give her a facelift, giving her a severe look.
Josie burst into tears at the front desk and the receptionist’s face changed as she realized what a state they were in.
“Oh no, what is wrong?” She walked around the desk and put an arm around Josie’s shoulder.
“We were mugged. They had a knife.” Josie buried her face in her hands. “They took all our money. We didn’t know where to go. I need to charge my phone.”
“Of course. Poor thing.” She disappeared behind the desk and grabbed a white plastic box full of chargers, adapters, and other electronics that looked like they had been left behind by guests.
“There are plug sockets around the corner where those people are.” She pointed. “The police station is not far if you want to report it. It’s not always worth the effort, but maybe you need to for insurance. I know a lot of companies don’t pay out for phones and stuff unless you file a report, but by all means charge your phone here. You need anything else?”
“Water? If that’s okay?”
“Of course. Uno momento.” She hurried out back to fetch them a cup of water.
“Michael.” A hand clamped down on his shoulder, making his heart leap in his chest. “Is that you?” It took Michael’s brain a good few seconds to process who stood before him.
“Aleksander. Fuck. It’s so good to see you.” Something about the harrowing events of the day, and seeing a familiar face hit him like a swift kick to the gut and he hugged Aleksander, squeezing him tight.
“Woah. At least buy me a drink first.” He laughed and looked Michael over. “You okay? You look like shit.”
“You don’t know the half of it. This is such a coincidence. I can’t believe it.” He looked Alex up and down again, as if he were a mirage that would disappear into nothing in front of his eyes.
“Trust me, not a coincidence. I keep bumping into people I have met along the way. The gringo trail y’know. I’ve seen this girl I met in Mexico City three times now. She just keeps popping up y’know.”
“Is Anna and Freja here?” Michael asked.
“No. They are living in Chiapas.” He glanced over at Josie. “So… who is your friend?”
“Sorry, so rude of me. This is Josie. We met in Tulum.” He hoped Josie could keep it together.
“Hello Josie.” He shook her hand. “What’s wrong.” He said as he noticed her red, puffy face.
“Oh, it’s just—”
The member of staff emerged with two plastic cups of water and handed one to each of them. “These poor things got mugged.” Michael didn’t realize just how thirsty he was until he felt the water slide down his throat and let out an involuntary moan of pleasure.
“Oh, that must have been scary. Do you need anything? I can sort you out.”
“Well we lost our wallets. Maybe I could transfer money to your account, then you could get it from an ATM for us?” Josie suggested. “I was just about to charge my phone.”
“Why don’t we sit, I get you a nice cold beer while we sort this.” It gave Michael whiplash to go from the horrors he had witnessed earlier, to being treated with kid-gloves. The fact that these almost perfect strangers seemed to care so much about his welfare felt strange and foreign to him.
By the time Josie had connected her phone, Aleksander had three bottles of beer, holding them with the necks in-between his fingers. “Ladies first.” He passed one to Josie, one to Michael, and then opened his by cracking the cap against the edge of the table.
“You guys look like you’re in shock no? Did they have a weapon?”
“What?” Josie jolted upright.
“The mugger.”
Michael leaned towards Josie, his mouth near her ear. “Maybe we should tell him, maybe he can help.”
Josie shot him a look that said, hell no. “I’m not getting anyone else involved in this. Miguel’s wife. That’s on me.”
“How the hell is that on you? You didn’t—”
“Guys. Guys. What’s going on?” Although Aleksander looked concerned, there was a flash of curiosity behind his eyes.
“Do you have the Wi-Fi password?” Josie had the desperate look of a crack addict trying to get their fix.
“MANATEE123. All caps.” Aleksander offered as three people burst into the front of the hostel erratically, talking over each other and flapping around like headless chickens.
“Did you hear?” Everyone piped down for the woman that spoke the loudest. “Someone was murdered. Apparently it happened about an hour ago. They said she was gutted and hung off of her balcony.” There was something about her face, like she was excited somehow, that this was a thrilling story that she could tell all her friend’s back home.
“Oh no.” The receptionist’s face dropped. “Gang related, I assume?”
“Not this time. The person I spoke to said they got a tip that the husband did it. They were having an argument or something, and the guy just lost it. Apparently they got the call as it was happening, but by the time police got there it was too late.” From the tone of her voice, the casual passerby would probably assume she was just talking about a juicy piece of gossip or the latest celebrity indiscretion. Michael wondered if he was being unfair. This lady reminded him of an irritating person he used to work with, who would always try to get everyone involved in the office politics, feeding off of others’ conflict. He looked over at Josie to see how she was taking this, and she unplugged her phone and ran out the front doors.
“Hang on.” He leaned on the central table as he got up and ran after her to find her pacing in front of the building whilst looking at her phone. “Don’t worry. We can clear Miguel. We just need to say he was with us when it happened. They’ll find out the truth Josie. It will be fine.”<
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“What about this is fine exactly?” She thrust her phone screen at his face and Michael took it from her hands and zoomed in on the picture.
“What the fuck?” He squinted at the image, hoping it would somehow change before his eyes. He was seeing things. He was sleep deprived. His own face looked back up at him, a photograph of Josie next to him.
Wanted in connection with the disappearance of Julio Vasquez.
A rush of blood ran into his face as the sun burned down on him. The most trouble he had gotten into with the law, was the one time he tried shoplifting as a teenager. He felt exposed, like everyone passing on the street would recognize him at any second. “Is this some sort of joke?”
“If it is, I’m not fucking laughing.” She continued pacing and his eyes followed her, her pacing made him even more anxious.
“We really need to get to the embassy. Sort all this out. They’ll see through it. What were they thinking, though? Surely it’s not in Samuel’s interest to have them look into all this. But he’s forcing our hand. Giving us no choice but end up in jail.”
“Is he just trying to keep us busy? I don’t know.” She flung her hands up in the air, as if she was praying for the answers to come dropping down from the sky.
A figure appeared in Michael’s peripheral vision and he turned to see Aleksander stood in the doorway. “I know something is wrong, I’m not stupid. Please, let me help.”
“We need somewhere to stay. Somewhere private. Alex, someone’s after us.” Michael couldn’t keep it in any longer. They couldn’t do this by themselves.
“I’m moving into my long-term rental place tomorrow. I was supposed to move in today, but I was thinking to try my luck with this girl here. I was getting all the signals, you know. I was thinking of being a scuba instructor, thought I’d get a nice little place to stay, comes with a car too. You can stay as long as you want.”
“Why would you do that for me? You barely even know me?” The promise of somewhere safe to catch his breath was more than he could have hoped for.