“Smile. We ’ ve been here before.”
They stuck wide grins on their faces and Behr raised a hand in greeting.
Ponceterra entered the room where he ’ d been keeping the rubio. He was already shucking his shooting jacket as he kicked the door shut. The room was at least twice as large as any other and easily the nicest one in the place. He was losing potential profits by not having the room in use, his concession to his heart, but it would be worth it when finally things had begun. He felt his own inner clock racing and wondered how long he would be able to remain patient. He looked at the rubio, who took a single step toward him. Hope sprung alive in him and he felt his mouth wet with anticipation. The boy crossed the room toward him. Perhaps his patience had paid off. The rubio was finally coming close.
“ їQuй pasa? ” Behr said to the gate guard, a large man with narrow, suspicious eyes.
“ Buenas, seсores, ” the guard answered. “ їQuй quieren ustedes aquн? ” He had only opened the gate enough for himself to step up to the driver ’ s window.
“Ah,” said Behr. “ Quiero visitar…Hablas inglйs? ” The guard shrugged. Behr, running out of Spanish quickly, went on in English. “We ’ re sportsmen. Clients. їEntiendes? Our friends brought us here before.” Behr produced his last hundred-dollar bill. The guard took it, his eyes narrowing further. But he didn ’ t open the gate for them. Instead he put his hand on his pistol. It was clear the man knew someone unwelcome might be coming.
“Get out the fucking car,” he said, and when Behr hesitated, he kicked the door.
“Easy. Easy there, friend,” Behr said, slowly pushing open the car door to step out. “ Pajarito. That ’ s what we said last time. I should have said that first. Pajarito.” Behr waited for the password to have an effect. It was not the one he expected. “ їProblema? ” he asked. As he spoke, the guard began to draw the gun.
Paul saw the sap Behr shielded with his body as he got out of the car. He had not yet risen to his full height when he swung the sap and connected. The guard ’ s teeth flew through the air like popping corn. The man sagged back a few steps, ropes of blood falling from his mouth to the dusty ground near where he ’ d dropped his gun. Most men, inexperienced in these matters, would panic and crumple from the pain of the blow. This man gathered himself, turned back toward Behr, and advanced.
Targets. Behr ’ s mind ’ s eye went wide, seeing the man as a whole, not looking at any part of him in particular. Knees. Groin. Bladder. Ulnas. Saphenous. The man drew into range and Behr flew at him, closing the rest of the distance, allowing him no space. He raked the man ’ s eyes. It was not a hard blow, but his fingers made contact with an eyeball, gouging deep. The guard ’ s hands flew up to his face. Behr went up the middle with a swinging kick and caught the guard full in the testicles with his shin. The man was suffering involuntary spinal reactions now, and no amount of training or practical experience could help him. He doubled over at the waist, hands going to his groin, his chin extended. Behr passed on the chin and instead delivered the sap to the side of the guard ’ s neck. It sounded a dull thwack as it caught the vagus nerve. The man shut off and landed heavily on the ground. Behr stepped over him, rolled him to the side, pushed the gate open, and headed back to the car, where Paul had slid behind the wheel.
The time was now. All sound and thought fell away. He felt small and weak and that it would be easy for him to die. But he did not care anymore. Across the small expanse from him the Fancy Man babbled in Spanish and smiled. He wanted more than anything to erase that smile. He forced his feet and body to move in a single direction. The smile bloomed bigger on the Fancy Man ’ s face but froze when he saw it coming. His hand rose up from behind his thigh, where he ’ d hidden it. He drove the sharpened spoon handle into the Fancy Man ’ s heart. Or what would have been the heart if he ’ d had a proper weapon. As it was, the sharpened spoon handle lodged in bone and the remnants of muscle that covered the Fancy Man ’ s wretched organ. The man screamed the high- pitched shriek of a woman that dissolved into pained snorts.
Esteban heard the shriek from inside the room down the hall and it stopped him from what he was doing. He wiped his bloody hands on the front of his pants as he ran down the hall. He tried the knob and found the door locked.
“ їPatrуn? ” he called out and banged on the door. “ їPatrуn? ” He put an ear against the door and finally heard Don Ramon ’ s voice.
“ Estб bien. Todo es tranquilo. Tranquilo…” came through the door.
“їNecesita algo usted?”
“ No, nada ” was all that came back. Esteban waited there for another moment, but on hearing nothing further, he returned down the hall to continue his work.
Ponceterra rested on his knees for a moment and slowly realized that the blade hadn ’ t killed him and was not going to, that it was a flesh wound. He peeled open his shirt for a closer inspection, the fine linen shredding around the embedded metal. He stood and felt a surge of power run through his body. Whether it was seeing his fresh blood or his own inner clock, he decided the wait had gone on long enough. Circumstance had brought him here today. And today it would begin at last. He worked at the cravat around his neck, his fingers fumbling at the knot in their excitement, and he realized he had been right, that he could live forever. I CAN LIVE FOREVER. He heard the words in his head. He felt triumph and confirmation, and also desire. He looked toward the rubio. The veil of the special had been lifted. After all his kindness and patience, this is how the rubio had repaid him. The boy was a piece of meat to him now, and it was time to feed. He moved toward the boy, speaking low.
Eres mi posesiуn, mi tesoro. Eres mi carne…
And that ’ s when the noise started.
Behr held the shotgun at port arms and twice kicked the front door hard near the knob. The fiberglass door bowed but didn ’ t open. He ’ d have it with another half-dozen tries, but he didn ’ t have the time. The car waited behind them, and beyond it the body of the guard lay motionless. Behr leveled the shotgun and fired, spending a shell blowing away the knob and chunks of the jamb. The door swung open. He handed the gun to Paul.
“Four rounds left in it.” Behr could scarcely imagine a scenario in which Paul would get the chance to reload. “Don ’ t forget about those dogs.”
They entered the building. Behr pulled out his pistol and led the way into a fussily decorated parlor. Someone had made an attempt to create an elegant old Mexican look but had succeeded only in making it cheap and tawdry. Behr nodded down a hallway lined with closed doors and Paul advanced that way while Behr continued on into a sitting room.
Paul kicked the first door open, falling to the ground for cover as he entered. A man wearing a holster, his gun already drawn, shot a naked, dark-haired teenage boy twice in the back and then turned the gun on himself, putting a round through his own temple before Paul could get to his feet and do it for him.
Behr registered the shots as he had made his way through the empty sitting room and went through a closed door. He found himself in a large dormitory-style room with three or four sets of bunk beds. A warm breeze greeted him as a metal grate had been peeled back and a window smashed. Looking out, Behr could see the lithe bodies of four or five dark-haired teens racing over the horse crippler and, as their feet were bare, hopping in pain, before making it through the front gate, which was swinging open and still abandoned. They continued on, around sagebrush and tarbush, and into the distance.
He left the room and reentered the main part of the house when behind him he heard the clink of a metal chain, then a growl, and turned to see the dogs coming at him in a staggered pair. He let them come. Their teeth bared and eyes mad and black, they were a tableau of fury. He raised his. 44 at the lead animal ’ s open mouth and fired. The dog slid to his feet in a heap, its face blown off by the hollow-point round. Behr heard the word “ Mierda! ” through the ringing in his ears caused by the shot. Out of the corner of his eye Behr saw the man who had released the dogs turn and run. Before Behr could redirect his weapon, the second dog leaped. Behr leveled a forearm and the dog went for it like it was a training exercise, colliding with Behr and taking him to the ground. He felt a bolt of lightning shoot through him as the Presa ’ s teeth went through his jacket, shirt, and then the flesh of his bad arm. The dog, a writhing mass of power, ripped its head from side to side, threatening to dislocate the arm. When it had and the arm was dead, Behr knew the dog would release it and move for his groin or his throat and he ’ d be done. He gouged the dog ’ s eye with his thumb, but the animal ignored it, so Behr took to fishing around in space with his right hand. Behr realized that when the dog had brought him down, he ’ d dropped his gun…
Paul continued on through two other rooms that contained shag carpeting, neatly made beds, and temporary-looking fiberglass sinks but were empty of people. He pushed the last door open. A slim, aged man came toward him, shirtless, covered in blood and wailing incomprehensible Spanish. A silver piece of metal protruded from his chest. And against the wall, partially obscured, was Jamie. He was taller now, very thin, and with blood on his hands. Their eyes locked in a split second ’ s recognition, which Paul broke by gun-butting the wailing man in the
