If you didn’t read Part I last week, stop what you’re doing and go read it. This week, we conclude Carli’s adventure near the border.
Coyote
After leaving the group in the guest house, locking them in as she left, Carli backed the Nissan up the driveway toward the main house. The conveyor belt never stopped.
The main house wasn’t much better than the guest house. The drywall had holes throughout—either from immigrants trying to punch their way out or an enforcer who just didn’t have the patience to watch another woman or child cry. As best Carli could tell, the benefit of being moved into the main house was the bucket. Like the guest house, there wasn’t any running water, but there was a five-gallon bucket in the living room.
Leopoldo Ruiz ran the house. He was also second-in-command of the crew that worked with the cartel to smuggle people across the border. Carli considered herself more of an independent contractor, but she guessed Leo was technically her boss.
She walked past the empty living room. Leo didn’t keep anyone in there anymore. Too much shit to clean up. Too big a space. He stuffed them all in the back two spare bedrooms. Carli made her way down the hall past the kitchen, toward the bedrooms.
When she found him in one of the rooms, Leo was running his fingers through a teenage girl’s hair. The girl, like the rest of those in the room, was clad in just her underwear. A sweat-stained pair of panties and a tattered bra.
The girl closed her eyes and turned her head as Leo whispered in her ear. Everyone else in the room pretended not to notice.
“Having fun?” Carli asked, standing in the doorway.
Leo jerked his head away from the girl and looked at Carli. “Si, siempre.”
“Esa es tu novia?” Carli said.
Leo pushed the girl away, and she huddled near the rest of the group. “Why you got to fuck up my mojo, Carli?” He stood and patted her on the shoulder as he passed by into the hallway.
Carli followed him into the living room. “They ready?”
“Ready as they will be,” Leo said. “As if my hospitality wasn’t good enough for them.” He spit on the floor, a mixture of tobacco and saliva that joined the other stains on the bare concrete.
“Send them out then.”
***
Carli locked the two dog kennels in the bed of the Nissan. She slid the third one—the one with the dogs—back toward the tailgate, concealing her load as much as possible. The dogs barked until Carli slammed her fist down on top of the kennel. She looked into the two kennels full of people and did a quick count.
Missing one.
“Fucking Leo,” she muttered, looking back at the main house.
Her boots clicked against the cracked cement driveway on her way back into the house. She scanned the property one more time before entering. No tracks nearby. No movement. Just empty, brown, dusty desert. The neighbors weren’t much of a problem because of the distance, but she didn’t want some kids on four-wheelers romping through here and catching a glimpse of something they shouldn’t see.
Inside the house, Carli yelled for Leo. He didn’t respond. She shook her head as she went down the hallway. He wasn’t in either of the two spare bedrooms, so she stepped into the master. Leo was straddling the teenage girl. Her bra was flipped up near her throat, and Leo was staring at her breasts. He touched her stomach. Then her cheek. The girl squirmed, but she didn’t scream.
“Jesus Christ, Leo,” Carli said. “I need a full load.”
Leo laughed. “You don’t need shit.”
“She paid, right?”
“Sure. Her family wired the money a couple days ago.” Leo squeezed the girl’s cheeks until she cried out, kissed her on the lips. “But fucking look at her. Qué bonita.”
Carli’s face felt hot. Her hand began to shake. “I need her. I’ve got to make the final drop.”
Leo shook his head. “You’re not getting it. This one’s worth more. More than what her family already paid. The way I see it, I’ve got two options that’ll make us some extra cash. We rent her out—you know these old white fucks around here will pay for her. Or, we ransom her. Tell her family she’s going to be fucked six ways from Sunday if they don’t pay extra. A beauty tax. What d’ya think?”
She watched Leo licking the girl’s ear and wondered how she’d been able to put up with this shit for so long. It wasn’t just Leo, and it wasn’t just the girl. Carli was a professional. She wanted things done right and on time. Leo fucking this girl was not part of the plan.
After too long a hiatus, I finally got to the conclusion of Coyote and it did not disappoint. This was really good, Ed. There's real texture to this writing, the kind that inspires me to do better with my own. One thing I liked about this was how morally gray Carli is. She saved Mitra, but faced with the stark reality of survival, she's not above considering Leo's plan for the girl. A piece of real desert noir.
The tension here is intense the missing passenger reveal and Carli’s confrontation with Leo make the stakes feel painfully real.