mongrel and beaten and starved and fed drugs. Cristo, who was in charge of washing down the cages, felt sorry for her, and late at night he would sneak back and bring her food and try to talk to her. They did not speak the same words, but after a while, with Elizabeth’s help, Cristo began to learn her language.
El Santo and Rafael thought they could break her, as they had so easily with her sister. But Cristo knew better. Elizabeth was strong-willed and would not bend.
But she wasn’t stupid. She pretended to go along with them, allowing Rafael and El Santo and whoever they chose to defile her.
Elizabeth soon became Rafael’s trophy, Cristo told them, and was free to roam the compound-which was heavily guarded by men with guns. She was even given access to the High House, all the while plotting with Cristo to escape.
And to take Jennifer with them.
Then one night Cristo made a discovery. A part of the tunnels that was hidden from view, blocked by fallen rock. There was a hole in the wall, and through that hole he found more tunnels and more caves, and soon he was standing in the church.
“The tunnels lead here?” Ortiz asked.
“Si,” Cristo said. “They lead many places. They run like a maze beneath the city, and most who know about them stay away for fear of getting lost forever.”
In his exploration of the tunnels, it was not unusual for Cristo to come across old bones or a rotting corpse.
When he found the church, Cristo shared his discovery with Elizabeth and they knew that this would be their way out. But before they could execute a plan, Jennifer gave birth, and Elizabeth said they must wait until the baby was strong enough to travel.
Then Cristo was caught stealing an extra ration of food and was taken for a cleansing, and in his pain that night he fled, coming straight to the church before collapsing beneath the statue of Jesus. He was discovered the next morning by Father Gerard and the sisters, who took care of Cristo’s wounds and nursed him to health.
And when he was healed, he told Father Gerard of La Santa Muerte and where he was from.
“Are there more children like you?” the father asked.
“Si,” Cristo said. “Many more.”
Father Gerard, who was very, very old, had once lived in a faraway place. And during a great war, he had worked with many people to smuggle refugees out of their country. He asked Cristo if he was willing to go back into the tunnels and bring more children to the church.
Cristo agreed, and late at night he returned to the compound and found Elizabeth, who was overjoyed to see him. He told her of Father Gerard’s request, and the two of them worked together to bring many of Cristo’s friends to safety.
The sisters from the church then traveled with them by fishing boat across the gulf to Mazatlan. They made many trips, ferrying two or three children at a time.
But with so many disappearing from the compound, the elders began searching the tunnels, suspicious that the children had found a way out. They never discovered the secret passage, but Elizabeth became nervous, afraid that it was only a matter of time before they did.
When El Santo announced that the next child caught trying to escape would be dealt with on Holy Friday, the children began to refuse to leave with Cristo, for fear they would be sacrificed. And Elizabeth knew that her time had come.
“What about the baby?” Beth asked.
“He was old enough by then,” Cristo said. “But convincing the mother to go was not so easy.”
Jennifer had been brainwashed. Was so deep under Marta’s spell that she would not leave. Elizabeth begged her to go, but Jennifer refused, and when she threatened to expose Elizabeth to El Santo, Elizabeth had no choice but to take the baby and run.
“The last time I saw you,” Cristo said, pointing toward the ocean, “you were standing with the sisters on the fishing boat with Andilito in your arms. You did not want to leave us, but there was no room, and Father Gerard insisted that the baby must come first. That the sisters would travel with you through Mexico to Juarez and smuggle you across the border.”
Cristo stood then, remembering the moment.
“You said you would come back for us. That you knew many people in America and they would do everything they could to destroy El Santo’s empire. But then many days went by and you did not return. No Elizabeth, no sisters, no fishing boats. And after many weeks passed, the elders came and killed Father Gerard. But they did not find us. So we stayed down here in the cave, waiting for you to return.”
Beth turned to Vargas and Ortiz. “They must have tracked us. Found us hiding in that house in Chihuahua, then shot us all and took the baby.”
“That would be my guess,” Vargas said, then looked at Cristo. “Would you be willing to go into the tunnels again? Take us to El Santo’s compound?”
“Si,” Cristo said. “But it is not safe to travel by day. There are too many elders with big guns in the tunnels. Better we wait until tonight, when everyone is in the Great Chamber for the celebration of Dia de los Muertos.”
Vargas turned to Beth and she nodded.
“Tonight it is, then,” he said, then turned to Ortiz. “We’re going to need some supplies.”
Ortiz responded to him, but Beth had stopped listening. Her thoughts were elsewhere at the moment, her mind struggling with those dark shapes again, kneading them, trying to push them into the light.
There was something about her story that seemed unfinished. The final piece of the puzzle that had not yet been put into place. Something about Juarez.
But it didn’t matter.
It was all coming to an end in just a few hours, and Jennifer and Andy would soon be safe.
PART FOUR
92
Marta was worried. It had been many hours since she’d last heard from Rafael, and it was unlike him not to keep in touch with her.
Here they were, so close to the great ceremony, and her brother was still out there somewhere, defying the will of El Santo-as he so often did.
Any other man would have been killed by now. But Rafael, like Marta, had the benefit of being related to El Santo by blood, so the old man was merciful toward him. In fact, he often seemed amused by Rafael’s transgressions, and El Santo was not easily amused.
Despite Marta’s standing in the community, however-her status as a bruja — El Santo seemed to have little patience for her, and she was often envious of the affection Rafael received.
But then, Rafael was a second-born son and would always live with that mark upon him, so she knew that her envy was misplaced.
She also knew where her brother was. Ever since the night they’d met her precious Jennifer, he had been obsessed with the sister. Elizabeth. She was, he had once told Marta, an angel sent to him by La Santisima. The missing piece to an incomplete soul.
That she was a lying, conniving, sinful whore meant nothing to Rafael.
