The Ninth Day

by Jamie Freveletti

  “You see anything?” Perez said.

  “No. You?”

  Perez jerked her head “no.” “I think we must be just a couple of miles away from the main road by now.”

  “Be prepared to turn that wheel and run again if you see anyone.” Emma was glad for the relative lack of trees or other tall plants. Scrub bushes, “teddy bear” cactus, and low-lying dry-weather flowers were all that populated the area. There was nowhere to hide, both for the army and for them. She opened the glove compartment and fished around.

  “Do you have a piece of paper in here? A pen?”

  Perez nodded. “There should be.” Emma found both, and wrote the words “Edward Banner” and “Carol Stromeyer” on it, followed by cell phone numbers for both. She held it up for Perez to see.

  “Here are the numbers for my friends. You get into trouble, call them.” Emma put the paper in the glove compartment and closed it.

  “I’m not going to call anyone in the States,” Perez said. “Those men may help you because they know you, but they’re not going to help me.”

  “One’s a woman, and they will help you. They specialize in contract security forces for the Department of Defense. If anyone can stand up to La Valle, it’s them.” Perez didn’t reply. She kept her eyes on the road. “See anything else?”

  Perez shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Emma’s feeling of dread remained, but as Perez headed in what she thought was a path that would intersect with the main road, the feeling didn’t increase. She didn’t see any metallic flashes or any other indication that someone was out there. After ten more minutes, a road appeared in the Rover’s beam.

  “That’s it!” Perez’s voice held a note of excitement. Clearly she thought they were close to safety.

  Emma wished she shared Perez’s faith in La Valle and his henchmen. She thought it unlikely that La Valle would come out on the right side of a firefight against the Mexican army, no matter how many guns he had and guards he employed. The army had the advantage that it could move freely around the compound in any direction, and if the siege lasted for a while, could replace men by driving them in from the surrounding countryside. La Valle, on the other hand, would be trapped in his ranch, forced to fight wave after wave of the army.

  Emma shook off the thought. If there was one thing she’d learned in the last few years of working with and around the Darkview security personnel, it was that not everything went as planned. Not at all. When that thing went awry for the Mexican army in their attack, Emma would seize on it and use it against them.

  “Get ready,” Perez said. “I’m going to drive as fast as I can to the front entrance.”

  “Wait! What if they think we’re an intruder and fire on us?”

  “They know my car. They won’t fire.”

  Perez hammered the pedal down, and the Rover hesitated a moment, as if it hadn’t quite decided that she was serious. Then the car surged forward in a squeal of wheels and shooting bits of gravel. Emma watched the speedometer needle move upward in a smooth motion. It passed fifty, sixty, seventy, and soon was inching ahead of ninety-five.

  The car shot down the asphalt road. Emma watched the foliage whip by, but nothing else seemed to impede their progress. The entrance gates came into view, with their scrolled “P.” Emma watched as they slowly opened. Perez dialed down the speed and she shot through the gates and hammered on the brakes. The car skidded to a stop.

  Perez was out of the Rover in a flash. She left the car lights on, the key in the ignition, and the door hanging open. The repetitive dinging of the warning bell set Emma’s teeth on edge. She reached over, yanked the key fob out and tossed it on the front seat. She slid the revolver into her waistband at the small of her back and covered it with her shirt. Raoul jogged toward the car, with Carlos hot on his heels, his ever-present gun in his hand and his usual angry expression. Three other men that Emma didn’t recognize appeared from the guard station. They all looked worried. Emma climbed out of the car. Raoul stopped, took one look at her, and pointed his gun.

  “Where the hell did you go?” he said.

  Perez stepped between them. “There’s no time for that. The army surrounds us. They attacked the town, shooting at anything that moved. I think they’re coming here next. We saw some lying in wait on the west end.”

  From somewhere in the distance came the shrill sound of a woman laughing and the bass beat of electronic dance music.

  “Is the party still going?” Emma said. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d leapt the fence.

  Perez gave Raoul a sharp look. “Party? Who’s here?”

  Raoul grimaced. “The Ginoas and Chandos.”

  “All of them?” Perez sounded shocked.

  Raoul nodded. “At least the main guys. Felipe, Juan, and the ladies. The lieutenants, too. Jorge and that skinny one with one eye.”

  “They call him ‘Churro.’ I’ve never learned his name,” Perez said.

  “What condition are they in?” Emma said.

  Raoul pointed the gun at her. “Shut up. You have nothing to say here.”

  Perez once again waved him off. “It’s an important question. If they’re staggering drunk they’re going to be no use. Do we tell them?”

  Raoul shot off a rapid sentence to one of the nearby guards and jerked the tip of his gun in the direction of the hacienda.

  “Come on. You two are going to tell La Valle what you know.”

  Perez jogged up to Raoul and fell in step beside him. Emma followed at a considerably slower pace. She thought of and discarded several plans in the space of a minute.

  The worse fact was that now she was not only back on the compound, but she was in an even more precarious position than before, if such a thing was possible. La Valle could choose to kill her after she finished telling her tale, and if he didn’t kill her, she’d have to stand and fight should the army attack.

  Chapter 15

  Once they turned the corner to the back of the hacienda, the full extent of the party was revealed. The shrieking women were dancing by the pool, wearing only their diamond necklaces and bikini bottoms and stiletto heels. All looked smashed. None appeared capable of staying upright much longer, much less holding a gun and shooting it to defend themselves.

  Emma noted that the men were in even worse shape. Two lay passed out on the chaise longues lining the deck area, and another was busy throwing up in the nearby bushes. One man staggered past the women without a glance, a bottle of Patron tequila in his hand. He raised it to his lips and took a huge gulp before continuing to sway in the hacienda’s direction. Neither La Valle nor Serena were in sight.

  Raoul must have seen this as well, because he veered off toward the house and the family room. He, Carlos, Perez, and Emma stepped through the french doors.

  Loud music assailed them. The stereo on the built-in cabinets on the wall blared a screaming rap song. La Valle sat on the couch, smoking a cigar with Serena in his lap. On the cocktail table before them was an elaborate hookah, with its water-filled lower bowl and three tubes.

  Next to La Valle sat another man Emma didn’t recognize. Serena took a drag off the hookah. Jasmine-and-rose-scented smoke filled the air. Oz sat in a leather chair on the right of the room. He held his own hookah tip to his lips. His bloodshot eyes looked glassy and his face was lined with exhaustion. He glanced over at Emma, and his eyes widened. He sat up straighter.

  La Valle fixed Emma with a stare and nudged Serena off his lap. She landed on the couch next to him. Her heavy-lidded eyes telegraphed her drunken state. Emma took a quick glance at her finger. The spot now covered half her hand and the fingers from the first knuckle to the tip. Emma felt some sympathy for the woman. She, of all people, had a reason to be smashed this evening.

  Raoul walked over to the stereo and swung the volume control down. He turned back to La Valle. “Something’s happened,” he said.

  “Why isn’t she locked up?” La Valle responded.

  Perez stepped for
ward. “The army attacked the town. I barely got out of there alive. We came here on Quinona Road and saw some more soldiers camped out.” Perez waved in the direction of the stables. “Near the farm. I think they’re planning to attack here next.”

  “How do you know they were army?” La Valle said. He stood up.

  “They wore the uniforms. They came in army-issue trucks,” Perez said.

  La Valle remained still, thinking. The only sound in the room was the bubbling of the hookah as Serena continued to inhale. Her head rested against the back of the couch, and her eyes were closed. She didn’t seem to be listening to the conversation. Emma flicked a glance over to Oz. He had put aside the tube on his own hookah, and rose off the couch, slowly. He pinned Emma with a look that seemed to say, What the hell is next? The party continued outside and the cacophony of voices mingled with the music that poured from the exterior speakers. Emma estimated there were fifty people in the pool area alone.

  A man stepped into the room. About forty-two years old, he was of medium height and weight, with hair that was cut close to his head. He wore expensive jeans, a polo shirt, and had a revolver clipped to his belt. Three heavy gold chains looped around his neck, and the letter C in script and studded with diamonds sparkled on one. He directed a string of Spanish at La Valle, who answered. The man’s eyes flickered, but Emma thought he did an excellent job hiding his astonishment. He turned to Emma and spoke to her in Spanish.

  “He wants to know who you are,” Perez translated.

  “Emma Caldridge. An American chemist.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed at her. “What were you doing out there?”

  Emma went for the truth. “I was running away, what do you think I was doing?”

  “Why did you come back here?” He’d switched to English. “Why didn’t you stay with the army?”

  “She tried to go to them,” Perez explained. “They shot at her. You know how they are, they shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “They don’t act like any army men I’ve ever encountered,” Emma said.

  La Valle snorted. “That’s because they’re not. What do you think, Chando? Are they the ones controlled by Duarte?”

  Chando nodded. “Probably. They think to ambush us all while we party.”

  “How did they find out about it?” Raoul said.

  Chando inhaled. “Someone betrayed us, La Valle.”

  La Valle nodded. “I’ve got thirty guards. They should be sober. And Ginoa and his lieutenants? What condition are they in?”

  Chando grimaced. “Juan is passed out in the bushes. Churro is so drunk on Patron that he’s ready to piss himself, and the others aren’t far behind. They left with some party girls for the stables, to look at the armadillos.”

  “And Ginoa?”

  Chando shrugged. “Ginoa is always good for a fight, no matter how drunk he is. He brought ten of his own guards, so they should be okay, and I have a dozen with me. With your thirty, it makes enough to show the bastards that they made a mistake coming here.”

  La Valle waved at Raoul. “Tell the guards to go to the shed and get their body armor on. I’ll meet them there in ten minutes. Raoul, you, Carlos, and the gringo”—he indicated Oz—“get to the trucks containing the shipment. Drive it to the fields by the access road. When you hear us start firing, move out.”

  “And her?” Raoul said.

  La Valle turned his attention to Emma. “Have you gotten any answers?”

  Emma shook her head. “I need access to a lab. I told you that.” La Valle crossed the room in two strides. He cocked his arm to hit her, with his hand balled into a fist. Emma stepped back, bumping into Raoul behind her. He pinned her arms close to her torso and held her in place.

  “Eduardo, no!” Serena’s voice came from behind La Valle, and Emma saw Serena’s hand wrap around his bicep, keeping him from punching Emma. “I need her. Look at my hand.” Serena shoved her hand in La Valle’s face. He flinched away from the open sore. “You can’t keep killing the doctors. I’ll die. Let her go to a lab.”

  La Valle said something in Spanish to Serena. Whatever it was, it calmed her. She sat down on the couch, grabbed the hookah’s tip, and once again leaned her head back with eyes closed as she inhaled. La Valle looked back at Raoul.

  “Take her with you and the shipment. If you cross the border successfully, she can use Tico’s lab in the mountains.”

  Emma felt her stomach plummet in fear. It appeared as though she was going to get up close and personal with the shipment. She only hoped that packing it in plastic and behind the false vehicle walls would be enough to keep it from contaminating all of them.

  Raoul was already barking into a walkie-talkie. He herded her toward the exit. As Emma turned to go, Perez grabbed her arm.

  “You may be in the States again, soon.”

  “If we make it out of here, and if we get to Tico’s lab, and if we don’t get infected on the way,” Emma said.

  “The odds are slim, aren’t they?” Perez said. She walked with Emma, out toward the pool area. Once they cleared the trees a breeze played around them. Emma shivered. Her clothes were wet with sweat from the run, and the night air had cooled.

  “Tell me about the lab, is it what I need?”

  Perez shook her head. “It’s a meth lab in the Arizona mountains. Tico likes to experiment with mixing chemicals, so he keeps a minimal amount of equipment there. It’s rustic and simple. Nothing sophisticated, and I doubt he’ll have the tools you’ll need.”

  A crack pierced the air. Perez’s body dropped into a heap. The back of her head was blown away. Emma stared at the mess in horror and dropped to her knees next to Perez.

  “Go now! To the huts. The cars are there,” Raoul screamed. He held his gun out in the direction of where the shot originated, but all Emma could see was darkness. She pushed off the ground and started running in the direction of the huts. Oz pulled up on her right, running alongside her. Carlos ran on the other side of Oz. Raoul followed them all.

  An exploding noise came from behind them. Emma looked back, and saw that the hacienda’s roof had a large, gaping hole in it. The screams that followed were evidence that the partygoers were now fully aware of the danger. Three more blasts rang in Emma’s ears. She kept running, praying that a bullet wouldn’t hit her in the back. She heard the reports of rapid shots and return fire. As they neared the migrant huts, they saw the workers running in all directions. Most disappeared into the trees. Octavio appeared on Emma’s left. He turned toward the migrant huts as well. They reached the gate where the guard usually sat, and found it open. The guard was gone. The converted ambulance, SUV, and BMW sat parked in a row, along with two other Mercedes and a long black limousine.

  Emma was running toward the BMW when she heard the hissing of a rocket, a sound she had heard before, and hearing it again sent chills through her. It was a rocket-propelled grenade, heading toward them.

  “Down!” Emma yelled. She hit the dirt just as the grenade struck the first hut. It burst into flames.

  Emma scrambled upward, with Octavio next to her. Another shot pierced the air, and Octavio flew forward. Emma turned to catch him in her arms. She staggered with the added weight, but managed to lower herself to her knees while still holding him. His chest was against her arm and his back faced up. Blood hemorrhaged from a hole there. Emma watched it surge out, the flow increasing and decreasing with each pump of his heart. She put her hands over the wound and pressed.

  “Octavio, can you hear me?” she said.

  He coughed once. “Turn me over.”

  “I can’t.” Emma’s voice cracked on a welling sob. She swallowed and tried to pull herself together. “You’re injured and I’m pressing on the wound. We need to get you to a hospital.”

  “Turn me over. I want to see the sky when I die.” He started to struggle and Emma released him, helping him to roll onto his back. She laid him down. Her vision became blurry as the tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away. Oz kn
elt next to her, and she heard him say, “Oh no.”

  Octavio looked pale, but he stared up at the night sky. He turned his head to look at her. Emma heard the fizzing of another rocket, heading their way. She gritted her teeth and focused only on the man lying in her arms. She couldn’t outrun it anyway. Octavio frowned at her.

  “Run. Go.”

  Emma shook her head. “Let’s go to the ambulance. I can bandage the wound and slow the bleeding. Then we’ll get you to a hospital. Come on. It’s only a few feet away, you can make it.”

  Oz lowered himself on the other side of Octavio and slid his hands under the man’s shoulders in preparation to lift him. Octavio shook his head. He groaned, closed his eyes, and opened them again.

  “It’s better. I can see heaven.” He smiled, exhaled with a rattling sound, and then was still.

  Emma stared at him, not quite believing that he was gone. She felt Oz wrap a hand around her arm.

  “Let’s go. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Emma said a short prayer and left Octavio lying on the ground, his face to the stars.

  Chapter 16

  Emma ran next to Oz, headed for the line of vehicles. Gunfire rang all around them, peppered with loud explosions. The migrant huts burned, the flames meeting each other in a conflagration. Emma thought about the patients. She doubted any of them managed to get out alive. She could only hope that they still were sedated when the grenades hit. Raoul waved Oz and her into the Escalade. Two more grenades hit the surrounding trees. The healthy field burned with billowing black smoke. Ash floated in the air. Emma inhaled, and the pungent smoke hit her lungs with a searing feeling. She started to cough. Oz joined her, coughing and holding his hand to his face.