Gayne Young - The Tunnel

“His face looks like hamburger meat. His nose has been ripped from his face. Ears shredded off. Eyes pulled… no, gouged from their sockets. Half his fingers are gone…”

Jeff Hunter stood from the destroyed figure that lay in a dried puddle of blood upon a plastic tarp on the floor in the center of the converted barn. The air smelled of blood and death, dust, and farm machinery. “Rival cartel didn’t do this. A chainsaw sure as hell couldn’t have done this. This was something else.”

“So, you believe him? That he and his men were attacked by… by monsters?!” Miguel scoffed in anger.

He flew across the room to the metal folding chair where Julio sat. The poor man’s face was painted in dried blood and streaks of sweat and filth. He trembled in fear and in anticipation of what would surely be the torturous death that awaited him. “What did you say they were? The things that killed everyone but you? Twelve of my best diggers? Albino apes? Ghost apes?”

“Monkeys,” Julio mumbled. He swallowed then offered in broken English, “They to have tails.”

“Tails?! Are you being a smart ass?!” Miguel exploded.

“No, jefe ,” Julio assured Don Miguel. “No. I to promise. I just wanna… wanna to tell to you the truth.”

“The truth?” Miguel countered. “You should have started with that. Trust me. Things would have been much easier if you had.”

Miguel looked to the two huge sicarios that stood patiently against the wall. Juan and Arturo resembled NFL linebackers. Each was a mass of muscle and intimidation. They had grown up in the Acuña Cartel. It was in their blood, they’d seen and done it all, and had no problem doing such. And they enjoyed topping the previous actions of others and themselves in terms of pain and notoriety.

Juan and Arturo stepped forward then halted when Hunter raised his hand in a commanding gesture.

Hunter walked to the chair where Julio sat in terror and knelt on the sweat-stained packed earth floor before him. He looked at Julio then directed Juan to bring him a bottle of water. Juan looked to Miguel for approval and when it was given retrieved a bottle of water. He gave it to Hunter who opened it and gave it to Julio, who drank furiously.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Hunter asked.

Julio thought for a moment then replied in a frightened voice, “Yesterday.”

Hunter nodded and once more looked to Juan. Miguel saw what was coming and nodded for Juan to retrieve food for the frightened man.

Hunter stood and opened a metal chair in front of Julio and sat. He leaned forward and spoke.

“Here’s how I operate,” Hunter began, his voice calm and direct. “I look to see what I can do to help the people I work with. And in your case, that’s helping you get set up in the States. Is that right?”

“Yes.” Julio nodded. “I very much want this.”

“I know,” Hunter assured him. “You’ve got a wife and two kids back in Tijuana and you took this job for Mr. Alvarado to make some money so you can get you and your family over into Texas.”

Julio nodded and stuttered, “San Antonio. San Antonio is where. We have family… the relatives there.”

“Good,” Hunter continued, his voice calm but authoritative. “That’s a fantastic dream. To give your family something better is what every man wants in life.”

“Yes,” Julio agreed. “I want daughters go good schools. Maybe to college one day. They very smart. Work very hard.”

“Julio, I can make that happen. Actually, it’s Mr. Alvarado that can make that happen. He has plenty of resources to see that your dreams become realities. All I need…”

“What you need?” Julio eagerly interrupted. “What you… what do Don Alvarado need? I promise it. I promise.”

“I know,” Hunter took control of the conversation once more. “I need you to tell me what happened then help me to prove that that’s what actually happened.”

Fear returned to Julio’s face.

Hunter’s easy manner had put Julio somewhat at ease but once more his head was flooded with the image of violence and pain that awaited him. His brother had gotten off easy dying the way he did. What the two sicarios staring at him in anger could and probably would do to him would be a far worse and a much slower death than the fate that had claimed his brother.

And the others.

Julio swallowed and asked in a timid voice, “Prove?”

Hunter shook his head. “No, the proof comes after the telling. Tell me what happened.”

“I is… am,” Julio stuttered in fear. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Julio, relax. Just tell me what happened. Take your time.”

“I is afraid you no to believe ‘cause I no can believe and I live it.”

“That’s fine. That’s where the proof comes in. You tell me what happened then help me find a way to prove it. But that’s later, okay? Now is the telling. Just start at the beginning.”

Juan returned with a plate of food. He placed it on a table and Julio looked in that direction. When he caught Juan’s stare, Julio lowered his head and swallowed. He wiped his eyes and gave Hunter his full attention once again.

“My brother was… he working jackhammer,” Julio began.

“Your brother Ernesto, right?

“Yes. He older. He drilling the wall and it cave in. All. There was nothing on other side of rock. He fall forward. I help him up and we see that he cut into big cave. Very big.”

“How big?” Hunter interrupted.

“Very,” Julio promised. “Our lights no hit other side. Roof maybe three story. I and others never see nothing like it. We all stop to look inside. It smell very bad. Air is wet. We talk about what to do then…”

Tears welled forth and spilled from Julio’s eyes and down his cheeks. He wiped his face and looked to what was left of his brother lying on the tarp. He looked back to Hunter and wiped his eyes again.

“Then they come,” Julio promised. “White flashes. They jump on all. One jump on Ernesto. He fall back on me. I trapped underneath. It tear him apart. Screaming and yelling. I see men die and be eat.”

Hunter nodded in understanding then asked, “What did they look like? The things that attacked you?”

“They white. All white. Look like…” Julio paused in thought. “I don’t know English. Look like babuino .”

“ Babuino ?” Hunter asked. He looked to Miguel for a definition.

“ Babuino means baboon. It means baboon,” Miguel scoffed in anger. “And you better get him to the proving part of this bull shit story ASAP because my patience is wearing thin. Very thin.”

Hunter ignored his employer and turned back toward Julio.

“They looked like baboons? White baboons?”

“Yes.”

“How’d you get away? If they were killing everyone?”

“They attack. Go back in cave. I stay under Ernesto long time. Drag him back. To bury him.”

Julio wiped the tears that trailed down his face.

“Okay.” Hunter nodded. “I believe you, Julio. But how do we prove this? How can you prove that everyone in that tunnel but you was killed by white baboons?”

“Ernesto kill one.”

“What?” Hunter asked in disbelief.

Miguel came closer.

“Ernesto stab one with screwdriver,” Julio said matter-of-factly. “It on him. He stab many times. It fall dead. Ernesto try to stand but he no get up.”

“There’s one of these things down there? In the tunnel? A dead one?”

“Yes.”

“Baboons!” Miguel exploded. He directed his attention toward Hunter and barked, “Why are you entertaining him?”

Hunter stood. He started to speak but Miguel cut him off.