by K. C. Hilton
As Arlo and Joey came closer, Collin could see that Joey had been beaten as well. His lip was swollen and his nose was obviously broken. Tears mixed with fresh blood as it slowly streamed down the side of his face from a cut just above his eyebrow. Joey was badly hurt. How much torture had they put him through? How much could an innocent nineteen year old boy endure?
Collin fought to keep the rage out of his eyes. He wanted to pound Pello, beat him to a bloody pulp. Killing him would be even better. But he had to stay calm if he were going to get the three of them out alive.
These men could have guns. Probably did. In reality, they could easily have killed both Joey and Adelio by now, but they hadn’t. Maybe this was just a warning. Maybe they only wanted to scare them and would let them leave. That would be just fine with Collin. He would accept the warning and would never, ever do anything like this again. No more transporting. Lesson learned. All he wanted was to go home and forget about all of this.
Arlo gave Joey a hard shove towards Collin, taking Joey off guard so that he stumbled and rolled onto the ground. Joey tried to sit up, then collapsed again, looking up at Collin with liquid eyes. He didn’t say a word, but Collin saw both terror and relief in those familiar eyes. Joey was comforted to see Collin there. Collin would save him, take him away from this nightmare.
“Collin!” Pello shouted, black eyes like onyx. “You have taken from us, and you must be punished. It’s time for you to learn your lesson. Arlo, if you please!”
Joey looked at Collin, confused, but Collin said nothing. Arlo nodded coolly at Pello then reached behind his back and withdrew a small pistol. He aimed the barrel straight at Adelio, who struggled desperately to get to his feet. Arlo pulled the trigger and Adelio fell to the ground, a bullet in his head. Adelio was dead.
“NO!” Collin cried over Joey’s petrified screams. He reached for Adelio, his entire body on fire with shock. This couldn’t be happening. This was all too real. When he glanced at Joey, his little brother was staring at him, face slick with tears and blood.
Pello took the gun from Arlo, then pointed it at Collin. “So, my friend, as I said before, it is time for you to learn your lesson.” Pello’s aim immediately shifted towards Joey, and the gun went off. Joey grunted and curled instantly into a ball, grabbing desperately for Collin’s arm. Pello had shot him in the stomach.
Collin grabbed Joey and screamed at Pello, his breath coming in quick sobs. “Stop this! Stop this now! I haven’t transported anyone in a year! I quit a long time ago! Why? Why would you do this? Joey didn’t do anything to you!”
Joey hadn’t done anything wrong. Neither had Betty or George, but all of this was entirely Collin’s fault. Adelio lay dead beside him and somehow Collin was to blame for that as well.
Joey was all that he has left in this world, and he was bleeding heavily from his stomach, a dark puddle pooling in the dirt. Collin shook his head hard. Joey couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let him go.
Pello’s smile was calm and serene. As if he were doing nothing more than disciplining a stubborn child. “As I said before, you must learn your lesson. Your friend is dead, and your brother will not live long. This will be a very painful death, I’m afraid. You will stay here and watch your brother die, then I will come back to teach you your final lesson.”
Pello and Arlo turned and left the building. Collin held Joey as tightly as he could, and Joey whimpered in pain.
“God it hurts,” Joey said through clenched teeth. His hand pressed hard over his stomach. “Am I going to die?”
Collin shook his head fiercely. “Not if I can help it, you’re not. Don’t even think that way, you hear me? Say it again and I’ll kick your ass!” Collin growled. He looked around the warehouse, seeking some kind of answer, then laid his brother gently onto the ground. “We need to get out of here. I need to get you to a doctor.” Fumbling as quickly as he could with his trembling fingers, Collin took off his button-down shirt, then yanked off his white tank and placed it on Joey’s stomach. “Here, hold this on the wound. Keep pressure on it.”
Collin got to his feet and studied the painted windows. Could they simply crawl out through one of them? Could it be that easy? But moving Joey would be difficult. Maybe Pello had felt safe leaving them alone because he’d known Collin would never leave Joey, and Joey was too badly off to go anywhere.
“Come on Joey, we’re getting out of here,” Collin said, hoisting Joey to his feet. Joey groaned, doubled over in pain. He struggled to cling to Collin’s arm. “We have to go through the window, Joey. Do you think you can do it?”
“No,” Joey said weakly. “I don’t think I can.”
But he had no choice. If they didn’t do something, they would both be dead very soon. “Well, suck it up. Sorry, but you’re going through the window. You can cry all you want but you’ll have to do that later. Right now we have to go home,” Collin said, then grinned briefly at Joey. “You know, I’ve often wanted to put you through a window. Now I finally get my chance.”
Joey gasped. “Stop,” he begged. “It hurts when I laugh.”
Chapter 27
Cuban Departure Day 5
The sun will rise whether I live or die. It does not care about me. It is going to be hot again today, but I have nothing left to sweat.
The sharks did not attack me. If they had tried I would not have been able to fight them.
I barely slept, only listened to the splashing of the water. I know the sharks were close, and I know there were many around me, but they did not attack. It was a good thing the moon did not light the water during the night because I did not want to see their fins. I kept very quiet.
I can barely move. I am too weak. My blistered, rashed skin tears itself open, then bleeds. My eyes are nearly swollen shut and I can taste blood in my mouth from my cracked lips. What is keeping me alive? Why am I still here?
I have no food or water. What I do have are many regrets. Maybe I should never have left Cuba. I should have planned better and built a sturdier raft, more secure. I should have made sure I had shelter and brought more food.
The sea is endless around me, but I cannot drink the water that I float upon. This water takes me to freedom, but I cannot drink it or death will come to me even sooner. I do not want to die, but sometimes I wonder if it might be a relief.
The only thing I can do is dream of my family. That also hurts. I am too weak to cry. I just lie here, doing nothing.
* * *
Evening
Awareness comes and goes. I have been in and out of consciousness all day. My brain, which barely thinks anymore, tells me this is most likely a result of the combination of heat and being deprived of food and water.
I doubt I will make it through another night. I can barely hold onto the raft. If the sharks find me tonight, they will eat me. If another storm comes it will kill me. If I move my raft will fall apart. I do not move.
My family will wonder if I have already made it to America. My wife will be counting the days until I contact her. My son will be dreaming of a new life in America, one where he will eat and live in a strange new world of freedom.
If I die they will not hear from me, and they will think I deserted them. Or they will correctly fear the worst. Do they worry for me? Yes. I know they do. I am glad they do not know what I have been going through. I am glad they cannot see me. It would make them sad.
Will I find freedom or death? At this point, I would welcome either one. Whichever it is, I hope it comes swiftly.
I think it will be death. I am done counting the days. I do not have the strength left in me to fight for my freedom. My dream of America is slipping away. I only wanted a good life for my family. Was I asking too much? Was I wrong for wanting a better life for them? I thought I was doing the right thing.
I see now that I was being selfish.
My son will grow up without a father. He will not have me around to teach him to be a man. He will forget me. He will eventually marry and have his own family. I wil
l never see my son or my grandchildren.
My wife and I will not grow old together as we always promised each other. I will never again hold her in my arms and tell her that I love her. She will not be allowed to marry again because they will not be able to find my body. She will be alone with the exception of my son. She will be sad and she will cry many tears. I hope she will forgive me.
The cool air is making me shiver again. Splashes in the water are getting closer, telling me the sharks are near. They have been following me and waiting for the perfect time to attack. They prey on the weak.
They nudge at my raft now, trying to find its weakness. It won’t take them long. It is barely holding together and it will be easy for their sharp teeth to tear it apart. They are right here, closer than I even imagined. If I wanted, I could reach out and touch them.
They will not relent tonight. They will take what they have come for, and that is me.
This will be a horrible way to die.
I never thought I would give up hope, but nothing can save me now. Dreams of a better life in America will never come true. It was all for nothing.
I cannot do this anymore.
Chapter 28
The small window stuck, jammed by years of disuse and peeling paint. Collin took a deep breath and leaned against it, jarring loose the adhesion. He grunted quietly with effort until he was able to finally open it, forcing it into as large a hole as possible. Warm wet air rushed in, bringing with it a terrible odor of rot. Rain continued to pour down, which was good. Its noise would keep the sounds of their escape to a minimum. The hot, stinky air and rain mixing together would create a low, thick fog that would help to hide them. There was very little light. What there was of it appeared to come from the front of the buildings and warehouses, beaming from well-spaced lamps and dissolving into the fog.
Collin quickly identified the source of the smell. Behind the warehouse sat a few dumpsters, overflowing with trash. The stench was overwhelming, enough to make Collin gag. Something moved, catching his eye, then another small movement to the side. Collin shuddered involuntarily. Rats. And from the look of it, a lot of rats. He looked more closely at the garbage and was able to make out the shapes of the vermin, swarming through the piles.
With tremendous effort and maneuvering, Collin was able to help Joey through the window, constantly worried that Pello and Arlo would return and discover them. Joey gritted his teeth against the pain, taking deep gulps of air that he held for thirty seconds then slowly released.
Behind the warehouse Collin could make out the profiles of other rundown buildings and warehouses built extremely close to each other. If Collin and Joey could stay hidden behind the buildings, they could have a chance of getting away. The few dingy lamp posts leaned as if they could fall at any moment, their light was very dim.
Collin gently wrapped his arm around Joey’s waist, half-carrying him behind the buildings. At the end of each building he hesitated, leaned Joey against the wall and peered around the corner. He wasn’t sure yet of their destination, and for the moment he was focused more on staying out of sight.
Joey’s consciousness dwindled and Collin had to keep him both calm and alert. “Joey, how did you end up here?” Collin asked, trying to keep Joey distracted from the pain.
Joey gasped in a breath before speaking. “My friends brought me. Or at least I thought they were my friends.”
“What friends?” asked Collin.
“You know. The guys that would stop by once in a while, hanging out in front of the house. They drove a blue car, remember? Sometimes when I checked the mail they would just happen to be driving by and they’d stop and talk for a bit. They invited me to go boating with them,” Joey muttered wryly. “Sure sounded like fun at the time.”
Collin remembered the sweet blue car, could picture it clearly in his mind. He’d seen it that morning after Joey had chewed him out for always being drunk. It was the morning of the first anniversary of their parents’ death. Joey had stormed out the front door to check the mail and Collin had, through the window, seen Joey meet up with the men in the car. Collin felt ill at the thought. They had befriended Joey in order to get to Collin, because they were working for the traffickers.
Joey’s voice was weak but he kept on talking. Maybe he knew it was good to be distracted. Collin didn’t care why. He was just happy to encourage Joey. Though the whole story only made Collin feel worse, he needed to know.
“They told me,” Joey suddenly sucked in air through his teeth and flinched. A sting of pain held him hostage for a couple of breaths. When he looked back at Collin his eyes looked flat, as if he fought back not only the pain, but the thoughts behind them. “They said they had recently moved to Key West and were new to the area. They told me they lived in the neighborhood. I went on a few boat rides with them, did some fishing, no big deal, really. They seemed nice enough.”
Joey paused for a moment and his whole face seemed to harden before Collin’s eyes. “Pello, he told me what you did, or what you use to do,” Joey said. “He told me you brought illegal Cubans to America.” Collin said nothing, only waited, so Joey went on, sounding cooler than ever.
“Pello also said that he hadn’t meant to kill Mom and Dad. That he hadn’t meant to kill them, Collin! That he had meant to kill you instead. Pello killed our parents, Collin. It wasn’t an accident!”
Collin swallowed hard. It must have been overwhelming for Joey to hear all this. It had been hard enough for Collin, and he’d at least had some idea of what was going on.
“So the guys came by and invited me to go fishing with them that day, and I went. We were farther out in the ocean than normal and when I asked about where we were going to fish, they started laughing. They told me that someone wanted to talk to me about you. One thing lead to another and they ganged up and beat the shit out of me. The next thing I knew, I woke up here, in Cuba no less. Collin, what’s going on?”
“Let’s go,” Collin said, helping him run again.
When they had gone past about twenty buildings, Collin looked around one wall and recognized a man he’d met only briefly: Neo, the Cuban who had given him food when he’d first woken up.
“My friend! You’re alive!” Neo exclaimed in a whisper, then looked furtively around. “You must leave! You must go before they know you’re gone.”
“Can you help us? We need a boat,” Collin asked.
“Yes! Yes! Come. Follow me, but be quick!” Neo said. With a wave of his hand he signaled for Collin and Joey to follow him toward the docks.
“You see? Look there!” Neo said. He pointed down the dock, three boats away. It was Adelio’s boat.
“Here. Take my jacket and hat!” Neo said firmly, putting them on Joey. “When you walk down the docks do not act as if you are in pain, amigo. Your life depends upon this. Walk straight and tall and normally, not slow. Do not slouch. You must act normal or you will get caught again. The men, they are busy. They like to drink too much and be with women, you see. I will follow a little behind you, to try and keep you covered.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Collin said, shaking Neo’s hand.
Neo clasped Collin’s hand in his. He had kind, grateful eyes. “You and your friend, God bless his soul, have helped many of our people go to America to find freedom. Your friend told me. You helped my brother go to America a few years ago, and he is doing well. My brother wrote to us, telling us of the kind American man who took them to land. He sends us American money and because of you and your friend, my family will be joining him one day soon. May God’s speed be with you and keep you safe,” Neo said. “Now let us go. We must go before they discover you are gone.”
Chapter 29
Collin and Joey walked out onto the docks, trying to look as normal as possible. Joey walked tall, without the help of his brother, but Collin saw the strain on his face.
The dock held very few people, and these were poor workers. They kept to themselves, keeping their eyes purposefully away from what w
as going on. They didn’t want to intrude or be witness to anyone’s business.
The rain and fog were a blessing. As it was, the docks were already poorly lit with inadequate lighting. The walk to the boat wasn’t far. Collin and Joey climbed aboard Adelio’s boat and Neo nodded to them as he strolled past.
Joey collapsed on the boat while Collin, pulse racing, released the lines. They were far enough away from the warehouse now that they would not be noticed. A few boats came and went around them as the rain tended to bring good fishing. Adelio’s boat eased away from the dock and quietly moved out into the open water.
They were ninety miles from home. Ninety miles to freedom. Joey badly needed a doctor. Could he make it home in time?
As soon as their boat was well within American waters, Collin got on the radio, begging for assistance from the Coast Guard.
He gripped the receiver and screamed through it, putting all his fear and relief into the call. “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Captain Collin Scott. Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! I am captaining the Adelio and need urgent help! Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! I require immediate assistance. Two people on board. One has been shot and is bleeding severely! Over!”
Once he’d made the mayday call on any frequency no other radio traffic would be permitted except to assist in the emergency. He would have the Coast Guard’s full attention. They could launch helicopters and any other boats in the nearby vicinity to assist him. He would get the help he needed for Joey and everything would be fine. Joey would be okay.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the U.S. Coast Guard replied. Collin gave them his exact position and repeated the message that emergency assistance was needed as quickly as possible. The Coast Guard instructed Collin to continue on his current path and they would rendezvous with him soon.