Amor y Contrabando

Death was what they’d expected, it was what they’d prepared for, but unfortunately for them, that wasn’t what they were met with on the beach. That permanent escape was denied to them. Instead, pain was thrust upon them in the form of a steady stream of punches to the face, blows to their stomach that knocked them onto the ground, and kicks that made them wail into the blood drenched sand. They were given pain and threatening words. The men told them that if they just cooperated, their senseless beatings would come to a quick end, that it was their own fault they were suffering. But despite the pain that emanated through their beings, despite the fact that their beaten bodies were begging them to put an end to the suffering, their minds refused to give the order, it refused to comply with what the cartel wanted.

They wouldn’t do business with them, even if it meant being beaten or tortured, because eventually, the pain would end, a bullet or an axe would rob them of their lives, and they would die knowing that they never worked with them. That was enough to keep them from crying out that they’d cooperate. It was that, which kept their lips from uttering any words of true meaning. They sobbed, they cursed, but they didn’t surrender. They found the strength within to endure the beatings, and in the few, stolen glances that they were able to shoot one another, they found the reassurance to know they were doing what was right.

Their behavior baffled Mauricio. He’d thought that simply beating them would be enough. He’d walked into Trinidad, thinking low of them. To him, they were nothing more than some gringos that had never seen the bad side of a deal, the sort that would surrender as soon as the guns were pulled out, but he’d been wrong. They had fight in them, principals to which they adhered to, and as admirable as that was, even to a man in his profession, it was also a pain in the ass. He needed them to cooperate or else his godfather would be furious at him. Mauricio knew better than to think himself above punishment. There was no one above punishment in the organization, that is to say, no one other than Don Peralta. He alone was exempt from punishment. He alone was the one who dictated what would happen to anyone foolish enough to cross him or unlucky enough to disappoint him.

Twice in his life, Mauricio had been unfortunate enough to disappoint his godfather. And both times, he’d ended up in the hospital. He didn’t want that to happen again. The mere memory of the torture he’d endured sent chills through his being. Mauricio needed to avoid disappointing his godfather at all cost, but he also recognized the fact that continuing to beat and torture the two Americans wasn’t going to make them change their mind. He’d already given the orders for his men to carry out the back up plan. Now it was just a matter of threatening Seraphina and Daniel, one last time, and letting things run their course.

“Enough!” bellowed Mauricio. “Pick them up. Now! Get them on their fucking feet. We don’t have all day!”

His henchman did as they were told, forcing the two badly beaten growers onto their feet. They had to forcibly hold them up. The beatings had left them without much strength, and as such two of them kept Daniel on his feet, and one held Seraphina.

“You see what you make me do?” snarled Mauricio. “This could have been avoided. All you had to say was that you work with us. That’s it! But no . . . no, you want to defy. And this is what happen to people who defy.”

“Stop fucking talking and shoot us,” snapped Seraphina, her voice hoarse.

“We no gonna kill you.” Mauricio told her. “No, no, no. We no shoot. We want you. You understand?”

“That’s too fucking bad,” spoke Daniel, flinching from the pain that accompanied speaking. “We’re not helping you.”

“We’d rather die,” added Seraphina.

Mauricio saw the honesty in her eyes. They really would rather die than help them, but they had weaknesses, everyone had a weakness, and he was going to use them against them. He would make them do his bidding.

“I know.” He said, smirking.

“Then why don’t you just kill us already?” she asked, baffled.

“Because I will make you work with us.” Mauricio grabbed her chin harshly, digging his nails into the bruised and bloodied skin. “We always get what we want.” The fear in her eyes pleased him, and he dropped his hold from her chin. “Let them go.” He ordered his men.

“Señor?” asked Javi, confused as to why they were letting them go.

“Let them go.” Mauricio repeated. “And don’t look at me like that. I know what I'm fucking doing! Now let them go and let’s get the hell out of here!”

Terrified by his outburst, the three henchmen immediately released Daniel and Seraphina from their hold, letting the pair collapse onto the sand. They hissed in pain when their bodies collided against the ground, and for a moment, they lay motionless, thinking that Mauricio had lied to them, that maybe the beating was going to continue and that their death would finally come, but there was no further beating, there was no killing. The members of the Sinaloa Cartel walked away as if nothing had happened, and left them there to their own devices.

Seraphina was the first to move. She gritted her teeth in pain as she attempted to prop herself onto her elbows. It took a few tries, as well as lots of cursing, but she eventually managed to get herself up. She remained in that position for just about a minute, allowing herself to get comfortable, and then, when the pain had sufficiently subsided, she began the difficult task of dragging her body towards Daniel. He wasn’t that far off, only five or so feet, but the appalling state her body was in, made it feel much further. Her ribs pained her, her bruised legs quivered as they were dragged along, but in time she made it to him, in time, her hand reached out for his.

“Daniel,” she whispered. “Daniel . . . you alive?” she was initially going to ask if he was alright, but as soon as she parted her lips she realized how idiotic that would’ve sounded. “Hey!” cried Seraphina, growing frantic. “Are you fucking alive?” she shouted, tears stinging at her hazel eyes.

“Barely . . .” he muttered, slowly turning his face towards her. “Egh, you look like shit.”

“You’re one to talk, you busted lip fuck.”

“Well, they didn’t beat the bitch out of you.” He flinched in discomfort. “Don’t know if I'm relieved about that or not.”

Seraphina cracked a small smile. “Are we really gonna lay here talking shit?”

“Nah . . . nah, we’re not. It was just the easiest way to start talking without fucking crying.” He forced himself onto his elbows, collapsing on the first attempt, and then managing to do so in the second. “Are they really gone?”

She carefully scanned their surroundings, eyes darting from the forest to the surrounding beach and then back to Daniel.

“They’re gone.” She confirmed. “At least for now they are.”

A sigh of relief passed through his bloodied lip. They were gone. He didn’t know how long they’d be away for or what they were doing with the time, but none of that mattered to him, at least not then. Daniel was just thankful that those men weren’t there anymore, that his body wouldn’t be continued to be used as a human punching bag. His arms gave out beneath him, and he collapsed back onto the sand, though that time he didn’t cry out. That time he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in the smell of the cool ocean breeze. There was going to be hell to pay, of that he was sure, but he wanted to take in that moment of peace.

“Are you still alive?” she asked, growing uneasy by his silence. “Daniel!” she shouted as she finally managed to sit up.

“Yes.” He lifted his head ever so slightly. “I was just enjoying being in existence.”

“Well can you enjoy it and sit up? Because we have to get the fuck out of here,” she reminded.

“There’s no way we’ll make it to the car.” He declared. “Just look at us! We’re bruised up and covered in blood. And it’s not even just that! I'm pretty sure I’ve got some broken ribs. It hurts like a bitch to talk, so don’t think I'm capable of walking to the car.”

“Then what are you gonna do? Just lie in a pool of your own blood and wait for someone to come find you and make a big ass deal about this?” she snapped.

“What do you propose we do then, since you’re so fucking talkative?” he hissed, growing increasingly frustrated.

Seraphina glared at him, but didn’t say the nasty comment she was thinking. “We need to get cleaned up and then head out.”

“Cleaned up?” he repeated. “How do you suppose we do that? We didn’t bring anything with us and the only water around is – oh no! Fuck that shit! I'm not goin’ in the ocean. Fuck that.”

“It’s the only way to get cleaned up.”

“It’s also gonna hurt like hell.”

“I know it is.” Seraphina sighed. “Believe me, I know, but we can’t let people see us like this. They’ll start talking, and shit will get out of hand.”

“Shit’s already gotten out of hand.”

“Even more so,” she said. “Come on Daniel, you know we have to do this. Let’s just get this over with so we can go home and plan what to do next.”

“Can’t we just fucking call someone to pick us up?”

“Everyone’s probably left by now.” Her heart panged at the thought that Benjamin was already well on his way to the airport. “It’s just you and me, now.”

“Two fucking cripples.” He muttered. “For fucks sake!” he yelled, slamming his fists onto the sand. “Why didn’t they just kill us? It would’ve been so much easier if they just finished us. I mean, they nearly did it, just a few more minutes and we would’ve . . . we would’ve had peace.” He felt odd referring to death as peace, but with the way their lives had been, he honestly viewed passing away with kind eyes. “I bet they get off on this. Those pricks get off on fucking with peoples heads and now we’re gonna be all paranoid and shit!” the intensity with which he screamed made his tender lip tear even further, allowing more blood to seep out.

Seraphina reached into her jacket and pulled out a handkerchief she always carried around. It was delicately placed on his bleeding lips, the fabric soaking up his blood.

“Maybe we can run off somewhere,” she whispered as she tended to him. “Maybe we really can get away. I mean everyone else is gone. They’ll all be safe, and all the plants and seeds are there for them to steal. So we can leave without worrying about what’ll happen. We can go to Canada like you wanted. We can live there, just the two of us.”

“What if they find us?” he asked, his voice muffled by the handkerchief.

“Then we die.” The tears began to fall. “But we’ll get a little more time and who knows, if we go deep enough in Canada they might never find us. We’ll just have to get you two fucking parkas to make sure you’re warm.”

Daniel let out a short, broken laugh.

“I'm being serious, you asshole.” She pulled the handkerchief away.

“No you’re not,” he whispered. “You’re just trying to give me hope so I stop acting like such a cranky douche.”

“And what’s wrong with that? We should be allowed to think that there might be a chance we’ll make it out of this alive. I want to pretend that we can have somewhat normal lives. We’ll get a cabin, some Alaskan huskies and grow old. Can’t we pretend that’ll happen? Can’t we at least try?”

“We can try.”

“Then let’s get cleaned up and go home. We need to get a few things together and grab our money.” With her bruised hand, she pushed a few strands of bloodied hair behind her ear. “You’re gonna have to try to build up onto your knees so I can help you stand up. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded.

“Alright then, do it at your own pace.” She forced herself to stand up, and when she did, a sharp pain shot through the right side of her ribs.

“What happened?” asked Daniel as he started getting himself into a yoga child’s pose position.

“Nothing, I just . . . fuck . . . I stood up to fast. I'm fine though. You focus on you, you’re almost there.” Seraphina walked over to him, and crouched down when she saw him finish getting into the pose. “I'm gonna give you my hand, take it and just tug on it, don’t worry about hurting me, I’ll be fine.”

Seraphina crouched down low enough for him to comfortably reach for her hand. Out of the two of them, he’d sustained the worse injuries. The men had given him a bit more hell than her, surely because their Mexican machista mindset made them think that less pain would be more than enough for her. And since she wasn’t as beaten as him, she took it upon herself to take charge. So she crouched down, centered her weight on her knees, and then, when he grabbed hold of her left arm, she snaked her right around his waist, and pulled him up.

It was a struggle, but Daniel was eventually able to stand. He had to wrap an arm around her shoulder in order to be mobile, but what mattered was that they’d be able to walk, even if the walking was incredibly slow. Now that they were standing, they made their way over to the ocean. Each hesitated as to whether they should actually go into the salty water, but neither voiced their fear. They knew it had to be done, and so they grabbed onto each other tightly and walked into the liquid that would make them cry in agony. Daniel was the first to be completely submerged in the water. Seraphina was careful with him, keeping her arm securely wrapped around his waist as she splashed water onto his face to do away with the blood, and as she rubbed her hand over his clothes to get as much blood out as possible. With one hand she tended to herself, and when they were both looking somewhat better, they began the excruciatingly long walk back to the car.

The town was still relatively quiet. There weren’t many people out, not in the beach area; most of them were in their cars driving to work or to do a morning errand. Seraphina and Daniel were grateful that they didn’t run into any of their acquaintances. To have had to speak to familiar faces, to explain what was going on would’ve been too much for them. All they wanted was to get in their car, go home to take showers and get a few bags ready, and then get the fuck out of there.

“Give me the keys,” spoke Seraphina when they reached the car.

“But I –”

“I'm not letting you drive. Not with how you are right now. So give me the keys.”

Daniel grabbed the car keys from his pocket. “Remember to jingle it a bit.”

“I will.” She pressed the button to unlock the door. “Do you think you’ll be able to sit alright or should I put the seat back so it’s not so much pressure?”

“Can you lean it back? I think it’ll be better for my ribs if I'm lying back.”

“Alright, just . . . uh . . . lean against the car while I do it,” she opened the car door and adjusted the seat so it’d be halfway down. “It’s ready!”

She wasted no time in getting him situated, and after having climbed into the driver’s seat, she put the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, causing Daniel to jump in terror. His paranoid mind believed something had happened, but Seraphina quickly reassured him that it hadn’t. She let the engine warm up a little, and as it did that, she reached over to the glove compartment to pull out their guns.

“What are ya getting those for?” asked Daniel.

“In case there’s a surprise for us when we get home,” she checked that they were both loaded. “Because if they’re stupid enough to be there to try to do something to us, then we’ll be stupid enough to shoot them,” she declared.

“We’ll take some of those fuckers out with us.”

“Exactly,” she said. “They’re both loaded and on safety. I know that you’re hurting like hell, but if I say to get the guns, I'm going to need you to grab them off your lap, and hand one over to me, you’ll keep the other.”

“I can do that.” Daniel reassured, wanting to be of help. “And there’s more ammunition in the storage unit between the seats. I got real fucking paranoid and just piled it up in here.”

“Fucking hell!” she exclaimed. “You’ve got enough to take down a small army. Guess that’s a good thing for us, but hopefully we won’t have to use it.”

“Hopefully not . . .” he muttered.

It turned out that they didn’t have to use the extra ammunition or the guns, at least not when they pulled up to the house. They had expected to find their homes deserted, their friend’s cars away from the property, and to not hear any sound of life, but as it was, their friends trucks were still there, and their friends were loading them up.

The surprise they felt in seeing their friends was nothing compared to the shock that ran through their friends. None of them had ever expected to see them again. They had been well informed of the fate that awaited Seraphina and Daniel on the beach, they had been told there would be no coming back, but there they were, bruised and battered, but they were alive. The initial shock proved far too great for their friends to immediately overcome. They gawked at the car, unsure whether it was actually there or if they were just imagining it, because they so desperately wanted their friends to be alive. It wasn’t until Seraphina stumbled out of the car that they regained their senses. It was then that they rushed towards the car, bright grins etched on their weather beaten faces.

“You’re alive!” they shouted. “You guys are fucking –”

Their gleeful shouts ended when they actually processed the condition their friends were in. They finally noticed the busted lips, the cuts on their faces, the bloodstained clothes. Their joy at the fact they were alive had blinded them to the pitiful states they were in, but now they could see every injury, now they could see just how distraught they were.

“What the fuck happened?” asked Joel, cautiously stepping towards Seraphina.

“You guys need to leave,” ordered Seraphina, completely ignoring his question. “Just finish packing up your stuff and get out of this town.”

“Not until you tell us what happened,” declared Carlos, defiantly.

“Do we really have to tell you that we got our asses beat, when we look this messed up?” retorted Daniel. “They beat the shit out of us, because we wouldn’t cooperate. And now you guys need to leave, because the guy told us that he was gonna make us do his bidding.”

“But you’re not . . . right?” Joel hoped they wouldn’t. He didn’t want his friends to get mixed up with that fucking mess.

“Of course not,” said Seraphina. “And that’s why you guys need to leave. They’re gonna come after us, and we don’t want any of your blood on our hands.”

“We can’t just leave, though. I mean what kind of friends leave friends behind? When we thought you two were gonna die, we were alright with it, but not now. Fuck that. I'm sticking around. I’ll take out some of those fuckers, before they get one shot out.” Matt promised. “We’ll show them how Marines handle.”

“No, you’re not.” She said more forcefully. “What you’re going to do is carry Daniel into the house and then leave. This has gotten way out of control and we’re not gonna have you guys fighting our wars. You’ve all been loyal and just the best of friends to us, but we can’t ask you to risk death for us.”

“You’re not asking us to.” Carlos spoke. “We’re volunteering. You guys were the ones that paid for us to get therapy after we came back from war; you’re the ones that gave us work when we couldn’t find any. You’ve taken care of us, so let us repay the favor.”

“But we’re not going to be here much longer,” she lowered her voice. “We’re gonna go into hiding.”

“In that case, we’ll take care of you for as long as you’re here, and then let you go on your way.” Carlos’ statement received approval from the others.

“You stubborn assholes aren’t going to leave us alone, are you?” she questioned.

“Nah,” replied Matt.

“Then help Daniel get in. And then, Carlos and Matt can stand guard on the porch, Joel and Rigs can stand guard on the sides.” She slammed the car door shut. “Ah, I just remembered . . . have you guys heard from Frankie?”

“Not yet, but I'm pretty sure that’s cuz their heading over to the airport. Frankie said he’d text us when they got there safely.”

“Good, good.” Seraphina muttered. “Can you let me know when that is?”

“We’ll pass the phone to you if you want.” Rigs offered.

“No!” she cried out. “Don’t pass me the phone. Don’t tell Frankie or Benjamin that I'm alive.”

“Why not?” this time it was Daniel that spoke. “Don’t you want Benjamin to know you’re okay?”

“He needs to think I'm dead so he can go on with his life. So remember, no one mentions that I'm alive. As far as they know, we got killed.” In another life things would’ve been different. She would’ve been able to have him, but she was making due with what she had, and she had to keep him safe. “Carlos, help me get Daniel into the house, everyone else can get in their positions.”

Seraphina limped towards the passenger door, eager to get Daniel into the house where he would be given a bath and put into clean clothes for the journey. It wouldn’t be long before they were able to hit the open road, and once they got into Oregon, they’d be able to stop at a hospital, but for now, they had to focus on getting cleaned up first, for now she just had to open the passenger door. That was all she had to do. And it was going to be simple. It was going to be mundane, boring. A trivial action that people do so many times in their lives, but as it was, it wasn’t just her opening the door, it was the screeching of tires that accompanied the opening. It was the fact that her men pulled out guns that had been tucked into their pants, and when she registered what was going on, she grabbed her own gun and ordered Carlos to get Daniel to safety. She crouched down and moved towards the edge of the car, hazel eyes peering out into the street. There was a jeep heading towards them. It was coming full speed and she swore that it was going to crash into them, that that was going to be the end of it, but when the jeep was nothing more than three yards from the driveway, it made a sharp right, it’s tires hissed and smoke flew out, but the jeep didn’t fall. The driver had excellent control over it, and the passengers inside, flung open the backdoor and then threw out a bloodied body.

It was strange how quickly Seraphina lost it. Her regular self wouldn’t have actually used the gun, let alone run out from behind a car to shoot, but that was exactly what she did. She abandoned the metal barrier that shielded her body and began shooting at the jeep, bullet after bullet leaving her weapon as she chased the cursed vehicle. She’d made it halfway down the street when they took a quick turn and disappeared from sight. Those cowards didn’t even have the decency to stand and fight like respectable people. They should’ve had the decency to do that, to face her in a duel, but no, they’d sped and left her standing in the middle of the street, contemplating what to do next.

She stood there trying to figure out how to make them pay, her anger blinding her from the fact that there was an unidentified body on the pavement. And it wasn’t until her friends began to curse that she was pulled back into reality.

“Those fucking assholes!” she heard Matt cry. “They fucking got Frankie! They fucking got him!”

Frankie? No. No, they couldn’t have gotten Frankie! He was meant to be on his way to the airport. He was supposed to be taking Benjamin to safety. There was no way they could’ve gotten him, there was no way she would believe that, because if they’d gotten Frankie, then . . . then that meant that they’d gotten to Benjamin.