Chapter 9
Maria spent the next few hours searching for her brother.
The passengers had spread out over a large area along the tracks. Some had eaten breakfast or sought medical attention at the Cruz Roja building. Others had stocked up on water or other supplies. Many were sleeping in the shade.
It wasn’t really a camp, like the one they’d entered yesterday afternoon. The passengers looked too weary to cause mischief. She would never feel comfortable in crowds of men, but she wasn’t afraid of these men in particular. They were mostly poor Central Americans. They were the underdogs here. She had more to fear fromla migraand the bandits who preyed on passengers.
She moved warily from group to group, showing a picture of her brother. No one had seen him, which wasn’t a surprise. If he’d jumped aboard a train the evening before last, he’d be at the next station by now. She could ride La Bestia all the way to the border and never catch up with him, but her chances improved with each stop. The passengers had to rest sometime.
Although she didn’t have the picture of Sarai, she inquired about the girl also. The responses were the same, but a single girl piqued more curiosity than a lone boy. Some asked if Hugo and Sarai were traveling together, and promised to be on the lookout.
By midmorning, Maria was exhausted. She sank into a sitting position at the base of a block wall and buried her head in her arms. This was impossible. She was going to have to return to Mezcala without news of her brother.
Without money for her family.
Without Ian.
Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and her heart ached with emptiness. She was too drained to cry. Parting ways with him again this morning had felt awful, like a death. She knew he couldn’t stay, but she didn’t want to let him go. She wanted to hold him close.
After a brief rest, she walked away from the station and talked with one of the charity workers from the Cruz Roja. A woman with kind eyes took the time to study Hugo’s photo in detail. Maria felt a twinge of hope. Her brother was tall and handsome, like their father. He had a charming, crooked smile. Strangers had always remarked on it.
“So many young men come through here every day,” the woman said. “I can’t remember all of their faces.”
“What about a girl the same age?” Maria asked.
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen a teenage girl in over a week.”
Maria thanked her for her trouble and accepted some leftover snack items. Two apples, a carton of milk, and crackers. As she walked away, crunching on an apple, it occurred to her that Sarai was clever enough to disguise her appearance. Maria had done this herself in San Diego. She’d worn a baseball cap and baggy clothes to hide her curves.
Like Maria, Sarai wouldn’t pass as male up close. She was too pretty. But she’d be much safer, and more incognito, in boys’ clothing.
Maria returned to the cargo station and studied the crowd with fresh eyes. She didn’t see anyone who matched Sarai’s slight figure. Instead she spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man. It was Ian! He’d come back. Her spirits rose, even though his expression indicated that he wasn’t happy with her.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.
She bristled at his harsh tone, but she was also secretly thrilled. That ugly English word sounded sexy when he said it. His teeth bit into his bottom lip as he enunciated. She imagined those teeth grazing her neck and shivered.
“You were supposed to get on the bus.”
She dropped her gaze from his tense face to his lean body. His shirt was torn, as if he’d been in a scuffle. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
Instead of answering, he grabbed her upper arm and glanced over his shoulder, as if he thought someone might be following him. Then he led her behind a crumbling block wall that offered a modicum of privacy. “You’re not safe here. You have to go home.”
She’d been planning on it, until he showed up. “Where will you go?”
His phone made a noise and he dug it out of his pocket impatiently. Whatever he read on the screen wasn’t good news. “Fuck,” he said again, raking a hand through his hair. There was a bloody scrape on his right elbow.
“Did you find Sarai?”
He put the phone away and removed another object from his pocket. A butterfly pendant. “I found this.”
“That’s Sarai’s. I saw it on her.”
Cursing, he sank to a sitting position against the wall. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked tired and disheveled.
