Cliff Ryder - Aim And Fire

“Fair enough.” Nate led the way to the cluster of illegals waiting for transport to a processing and holding center.

Everyone there, about a dozen people, stared back silently.

He scanned the crowd, looking for the guy he’d tangled with earlier.

“See him?” Tracy asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Nate circled around to where a man with his head hanging down stood on the outskirts, trying to stay as far apart from the group as possible, yet still remain within the main cluster. Whereas most of the other men wore either T-shirts or had the sleeves of their flannel shirts rolled up in the heat, he had his sleeves down and collar buttoned up, but couldn’t hide the dark bloodstain on his shirtfront. Nate grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the group.

“ ¡Hola! Remember me, cholo? ” Nate’s grin was mirth-less.

The man kept his eyes on the ground. “No habla inglés.”

Grabbing his chin, Nate wrenched the man’s head up, revealing a swollen broken nose. “Sure, you do. Now take off that shirt.”

“¿Que?”

“I said—” Nate hooked two fingers in the man’s nose and lifted, making him stand on his tiptoes and grunt in pain, tears filling his eyes “—take off the goddamn shirt, or else I make you strip bucknaked out here.”

“Nate—” Tracy began, but was stopped by his curt head shake.

The zeta waved his arms helplessly. “ Sí, sí. Just stop!”

Nate set him back down, wiped his fingers on the man’s shirtsleeve.

The zeta stared at him now, his dark eyes filled with hatred. “¡Pinche cabrón!”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, show that skin.”

The man slowly took off his shirt, revealing a wealth of tattoos, including the one Nate had been looking for—the Aztec warrior head, this one with no feathers—etched on his chest, above his heart. “All right, Montezuma, you can put it back on.” He was about to find someone and commandeer their ride when Tracy cocked her head and looked over at the abandoned house.

“Did you hear that?”

Nate frowned as he stared at her. “I didn’t hear anything.

Come on, we need to get back.”

Tracy, however, ignored him, walking to the agent watching over the group. “Was the back of the house cleared?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Just a sec, Nate.” She trotted toward the side of the house, listening intently for the noise she swore she had heard. As she approached, she heard it again—the whimper of a child.

“Nate, I’ve got someone back here.” She ran around to the back, but didn’t see anything but overgrown scrub brush. “ Hola, where are you?” she called out.

The whimpering continued, and Tracy homed in on the noise, spotting a thin, crushed trail of brown grass near the corner of the house. Kneeling, she peered into what looked like a narrow crawl space under the house, where the noises were coming from.

“¿Hola, chica, quien es?” Tracy moved closer to the black hole, trying to see inside.

The face of a small girl, maybe about Jennifer’s age, appeared in the opening, tears running down her cheeks as she answered Tracy in Spanish. “My mama…she told me to hide in here…now she won’t wake up.”

“Okay, sweetheart, we’ll take care of her. What’s your name?”

“Julia.”

“Hi, Julia. My name is Tracy, and I’m going to help both of you. But first, can you come out of there?”

The girl drew back into the darkness. “I won’t leave her!”

“All right, then, if you don’t come out, I’ll have to come in.” Tracy got down on her hands and knees just as Nate rounded the corner.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

“There’s a girl in here, and her mother has passed out, probably from heatstroke.”

“For God’s sake, hold on. There might be rattlesnakes or scorpions under there, or who knows what. Jesus, I’ll be right back.” Nate took off around the house.

“Just stay where you are, sweetheart, we’re coming.”

Tracy stayed by the opening until Nate returned with a large flashlight. He shone the beam inside, revealing a stick-thin girl crouched over the still form of her mother, lying on the ground facing away from them.

“Don’t see any rattlers, and I don’t hear any, either, but let’s get ’em both out of there right away.” He squatted down and moved toward the entrance, but the girl shrieked, a high, piercing sound that cut right through Tracy’s ears, and scurried away from him.

“Nate, maybe you’d better let me handle this. I’ll get the girl out, and once we’re clear, you get the mother.”

Tracy edged him aside and got on her hands and knees.

“Keep that light on me.” She crawled into the space, gasping at the intense heat.

Julia edged farther away, torn between her urge to hide and her desire to protect her mother. Tracy tried to calm her down by speaking in Spanish. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s all right. Can you come over to me?”

“Help my mother, please.”

Tracy held out her arms. “If you can come over here, then we can get out of here. The other agent can get your mother out of here, but we have to get out of the way first.” She nodded back at Nate, bent over at the entrance and smiled.

“He’s too big, so we have to leave before he can come in.”

The girl peered past her at the opening. “Promise he won’t hurt her?”

“Cross my heart.”

“And hope to die?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Come on, sweetie, you must be thirsty.”

The girl hesitated a moment longer, then scrambled into Tracy’s arms, who hugged her tightly, feeling her ribs underneath the soiled shirt, and her hammering heart underneath. Her skin was hot and dry, and Tracy was sure the poor thing was dehydrated, too. Still holding her, she crawled backward on her knees, uncaring of the dirt being ground into her slacks. When she got outside, the air felt at least twenty degrees cooler.

“Here.” Nate passed her a chilled bottle of water.

“Slow sips, not too much, or she’ll get sick. I’ll get her mom.” He disappeared under the house, leaving Tracy to cradle Julia on her lap and dole out small swallows of water. A few seconds later, he reappeared, moving slowly as he dragged the mother out from the blackness. “She’s in bad shape. We need to get her to a hospital right away.”

As soon as she was clear, he scooped her up in his arms.

“Come on.”

“Hold on to me, honey.” Tracy picked up Julia, shocked at how small and light she was, and followed Nate out to the rest of the agents.

“Hey, I need to get this woman into a hospital ASAP, so I’m borrowing your truck. Got any liquids inside?”

Nate grabbed the keys that were tossed to him and opened the back door, laying her on the bench seat. “Sit next to her and keep a blanket handy. If you can, try to get her to take some water. Once her temperature starts to come down—”

“She may go into shock, yes, I know the symptoms,”

Tracy said.

“Good.” He slid into the driver’s seat, cranked the air conditioner up to regulate the temperature, turned the truck around and kicked up dirt as he headed down to the road.

Once there, he got to the nearest highway that led back to El Paso, then headed for the south side of the city.

In the back, Tracy alternated between giving Julia sips of water and trying to get some liquid into her mother.

When the girl began to shiver from the temperature change, she had Nate turn down the air conditioner, and wrapped her in the blanket.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the emergency entrance of Providence Memorial. The SUV had barely stopped when Nate got out and was pulling the mother out of the backseat, carrying her through the double doors.