Page 117 of Being Lost

A phone ringing makes more than one of us jump. I nod at Pennywise who reaches into Enrico’s pocket and pulls it out. He holds it to the man’s bleeding ear and touches his knife to his other.

“They don’t come up, you’re Pennywise’s, you got me?” I ask. When my threat’s sunk in, I nod for him to answer.

“Enrico… Yes. We’re organised… Yes, now.”

I nod at Pennywise who slices through Enrico’s zip tie while Niran slides the wood back and forth removing the planks with ease. Then as he steps back, I ease back against the door, finding a viewpoint in the gap offered by the hinges.

There’s the sound of a bolt being thrown, then a man appears, grunting with the effort of lifting the wood, raising his chin when Curtis helpfully lends a hand. In a practiced move he pulls himself up and out of the void below. He nods at Enrico and gives little more than a quick unworried glance around, before indicating to someone still below.

A second man appears, taking the helpful hand offered by Niran. He then steps back.

“Subir.”He waves down into the tunnel and beckons upwards with his hand.

The next man is more hesitant and looks less athletic, struggling to emerge. Curtis steps forward to help. When the man is standing, he looks around, his eyes wide.

“America?” he asks, the word sounding unnatural on his lips, his voice full of wonder and hope.

When Niran agrees he has indeed reached his destination, the man falls to his knees and kisses the ground. His two escorts share a grin I find I don’t like, and silently promise as soon as I get my chance, I’ll wipe it off their smarmy faces.

A family appears next, the woman looking tired and weary. She hands up a baby which her husband takes from her. She’s weak, needing help from above and below to make it to the top. A child, about six, appears after her. The woman who looks like she’s not far from the end of her rope, then reaches for the baby which is placed back carefully in her arms.

One by one they emerge, all showing relief and emotion at having made it safely under the border, reaching the land of hope without being detected, unknowing that it could so easily have been the opposite. If Alder had his way, now they’re here, instead of a new life of freedom, they’ll be trapped in a hell even worse from whatever they escaped.

There are five men, two women, and the two children. Their condition shows not one of them has had an easy journey.

After the last one, another two men, not guides as they’ve posed to be, but guards appear.

“Transport ready?” The final man directs his question to Enrico. “Where are the girls?”

Fuck. My eyes widen.He was expecting them to be ready and waiting.

Enrico shrugs. “Had to take on new men. They’re still learning the ropes. They’re on their way now.”

“They better fuckin’ be,” the man growls. “Ain’t got time to hang around.”

Niran’s waiting for my signal, Curtis looking slightly nervous, but then he’s never been asked to kill a man before. I need Pennywise and Salem in there and quickly.

Thinking fast, Niran says, “I think I hear them coming now.”

It’s the opening I want. The men group the immigrants in a corner of the room, shouting at them in Spanish, presumably telling them to stay put. Then, they go toward the door with expectant looks on their faces, clearly prepared for a bunch of intimidated women. Instead it’s Salem and Pennywise who are first through the door, heading for the men waiting while Niran and Brakes are already behind their targets closing in. Brakes takes the man closest to him and guns come out. Salem’s got his target. Pennywise, his finesse now gone, hacks furiously into the man who’s drawing a gun.

The last man standing grabs hold of the six-year-old who now I can tell is a little girl and holds her in front of him. But he hadn’t reckoned on her father, who despite his weakened state, throws himself on him. The trio go down and it’s Curtis who jumps in, his knife going into the guard’s throat.

I must have been holding my breath. I now let in out and suck a deep lungful of oxygen in. I cock my head toward Dart who gives me back a sharp confirmatory nod. They are all dead. Well, all except Enrico, I’m not quite sure what to do with him now. But as rapid Spanish starts flying, and the immigrants look at the scene in horror and us in fright, I realise I need an interpreter.

“Tell them they are safe. Tell them these are bad men who would have kidnapped them and sold them into slavery. Tell them they are free to go now.”

Enrico speaks rapidly in Spanish.

I notice Brakes looking on.

“My Spanish is rusty,” he tells me. “But I got the gist. He said what you wanted.”

The Spanish continues back and forth.

I step forward. “Anyone here speak English?”

One man tentatively holds up his hand. “I try to learn,” he attempts.

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