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Introduction:

Maria’ story could be the tragic tale of any family caught up in the war on drugs, gangs and violence.

Caution; This story contains some sex scenarios involving non-consent, violence and force.

Maria’s Journey

By Greg

Chapter 1

The Honduran city of San Pedro Sula is the city of my birth. My beloved grandparents would cry for what has taken place here. I am thankful they never lived to see that what was once a lush, peaceful city has now turned into a violent, gang-infested nightmare.

I will only use my given name, Maria, for I am ashamed of many of the things I have done in my short life. The slum that I have grown up in has been taken over by a local gang. Barrio 18 rules this entire region. At first, they controlled just the drug trade, so if you avoided that, you were generally left alone. Over the last few years, they have taken over everything. They extort payments from honest businessmen, and they rob and harass people with no fear of the police. They now control the lives of everyone and are hated and feared by all who live here.

My papa was an important man in his time. He was killed by political rivals five years ago. The government never took any steps to avenge his murder. My older brother, Carlos, tried to be strong for Momma and me, but he was only two years older than me. These were violent times, and it required strong, grown men to protect their families.

Since Papa’s death, Momma could no longer afford to live in our old house. She was forced to sell, and now we rented a tiny shack just a few blocks away from it. I think it was actually a converted garage for the larger house out in front. I was always so ashamed of the way we were now living, that I never invited any of my friends over for fear of the look on their faces if they saw our little place.

Our family was even the target of insults by neighbors. They held my papa responsible for failing to take a tougher stand against the corrupt local government officials. Papa was resistant to using his influence to force them out; he preferred a non-violent approach. Giving of his own life was apparently not enough for some people. Crime was now in charge, and corruption within the police allowed the criminals to run free.

I was sent away right after Papa’s death to live with Momma’s sister, Theresa, for almost four years. It was during this time that my body was going through many changes. It was only when I noticed how the young men would look at me that I began to discover the curse that was upon me. I wasn’t like the other girls with plump bottoms and wide hips. My momma had been very attractive in her early years, and from the pictures my aunt showed me, I was the very image of her at that age. Even today, Momma is still quite stunning, but since Papa’s death, she has hid it all behind baggy clothing and unflattering shawls. She never wore make-up to call attention to herself. As a young girl, I had seen her on occasion getting dressed, and her figure would be the envy of anyone half her age.

My beauty would have been a blessing in any other culture or time, too. Somewhere else, I might have even become an important celebrity or at least attracted a rich husband. Here, however, I attracted only the wrong people. Egged on by some close girlfriends, I began experimenting with make-up and some flattering clothing. I really didn’t need it to attract the boys, because everywhere we went, all the boys seemed to focus on me.

My aunt would say to me how my natural beauty was handed down by the ancient ones. My looks reflected my heritage; high cheekbones and full lips were traits passed down from generations long ago. My grandmamma was a full-blooded Ch’orti’ Indian. She was descended from the Mayans, who were known to all as God’s chosen people. Ancient beliefs held that men of these tribes were rewarded from the wind and earth gods with the most beautiful of wives.

I had full breasts and a narrow waist. Any tight-fitting clothing would define the natural curves of my hips. Coal black eyes and brows were features that I must have picked up from my papa’s side of the family. He, too, was well regarded for his classic good looks. My aunt would often warn me that this was both a blessing and a hex.

Unfortunately, I was also becoming a bit of a rebellious teenager. I started hanging around with the local boys who wished to take me out. Honduras is a poor country with slums everywhere, but the one thing the government does do is to supply free birth control pills to any girl wishing them. I was offended, but my aunt marched me right up to the dispensary, and I was given my pills. The government would rather no babies be born than to have still more poor mouths to feed.

I was eventually sent back to live with Momma after my aunt’s husband left her. She didn’t have any income now and could not continue to feed me. Once back in the slum with Momma, I resisted her pleas to tone down my style of dress. Of course, I wouldn’t listen. I had a mind of my own. I was nineteen now, and I felt I had the right to do as I wished.

Momma tried to pull me closer, but I was foolishly pushing her away. Still, there were quiet times. I'd wake up some mornings to the sensation of her stroking my hair. My eyes would blink away the sleep, and I would find her sitting silently alongside my bed, staring at me. In the soft rays of morning light, I could often see tears in her eyes as she found comfort in my face. I knew that she was seeing my Papa in me. The consoling gaze of my papa’s eyes looking back at her helped her make it through one more day. The wound of my papa’s loss was still as fresh as it had ever been.

Momma only had one sister and one older brother, Enrico. He was a hard worker. He ran a small business doing home repairs. He and his family lived not too far from us, but they didn’t stop by that often. I think he was always busy keeping his business growing to support his wife Sofia and his son Luis. Other than that, Momma, Carlos, and I were now on our own. The tiny shack Momma was living in was an embarrassment to me. Carlos was there, and I had truly missed him. I loved my momma, but I couldn’t live like this.

The gang’s presence in our neighborhood was always felt. You seldom ventured out alone, and never after dark. Yet, I was young and arrogant. I figured my looks offered me some kind of privilege or immunity. Sure, I got the whistles and catcalls, but I just took them as a compliment.

Most of the gang members were losers, and most were ugly. I kind of figured they would be intimidated by a confident girl like me. Most times, my bluff worked too. I found that a couple of the uglier ones actually seemed flattered, that I would even nod a polite recognition of their existence.

One of the higher-ranking gang members was a guy nick-named Lobo. I'd probably run into him a couple of times a week. Actually, I think he was searching out where I might be and was pretending to "happen" to be in my path. I thought it was a little cute the way he was trying to get to say hello to me so often.

"Machismo bravado," I thought. He struts like a young rooster, yet he is unsure of himself around a girl like me. This little game went on for a couple months. Of course, I knew why he was really checking me out, but I really had no idea as to the seriousness of the game I was playing.

My brother Carlos knew about Lobo and tried to warn me off. Carlos had grown up with some of the gang’s members, and some had even been his friends up until they joined the gang. Once in the gang, however, you only associated with other gang members. Everyone else was "prohibido."

I was returning from the market carrying a small package one day, and of course I ran into Lobo.

"Hola, buenos dias, "How are you today?" he asked rather timidly.

"Fine, and you," I said.

"It is a beautiful day for a walk," he would offer, trying to be charming.

This little verbal dance would continue each time we met. I don’t think he had rehearsed anything more to say past this. In my culture, it was not proper for an unescorted young lady to strike up conversations with just anyone walking down the street, even today. But still, I was flattered. Our shy exchange bounced back and forth like two school kids, with maybe one having a blossoming crush on the other.

He must have finally worked up the courage to actually approach me. He practically took the package from my hand and offered me an escort home. He seemed to already know exactly where I lived. I was totally embarrassed by this because I didn’t want anyone to know that I lived in an old converted garage. He seemed polite in a weird sort of way. He offered his name, and even though I already knew it, I pretended not to. I said thanks in appreciation for his small act of kindness.

Lobo was not really a bad-looking young man. He wasn’t as tall as I would have preferred, and I think that bothered him somewhat. He was always trying too hard to impress me. He always acted so tough if anyone else was in sight, but if we seemed alone, he would lose his toughness, just a little, and become calmer. He always seemed to prefer black or darker clothing laced with steel rivets. His curly hair style looked to be another attempt to try to add to his height and overall physical size.

Momma had no clue as to what I had been up to. I was playing it loose with a major bad guy in the neighborhood, and my luck was about to run out. Carlos’ pleas held no importance with me. I ignored his warnings and would continue to stop and make small talk with Lobo. He really didn’t seem that awful. Maybe he just needed an understanding friend.

I severely underestimated the gang’s power and ruthlessness. Maybe the individual members themselves weren’t all that bad, but all combined they became a pack of dangerous animals. Still, I reasoned that it would be better to at least be on good terms with one or two of them if I could. The day this all changed will stick in my memory until I die.

Lobo asked me if I wanted to see where he hung out. I innocently figured it would be his home, or maybe their silly clubhouse. I had no clue. I felt special as he escorted me along the streets of my neighborhood. All others gave clearance to us. He walked like he owned everything around us. We had gone maybe eight to ten blocks, but I was still totally comfortable because this was still my neighborhood.

At a major street intersection, a ratty-looking vehicle pulled up alongside us. Guys I had never seen before were inside. Lobo ignored me and "gang-signed" some code or handshake with a couple guys in the front seat. The rear doors popped open, and I was invited in.

This next moment would change my life forever. My world would change, and the lives and futures of many others would come to be altered because of my foolishness here. To this day, I wish I had never set eyes upon Lobo. Every bit of common sense should have told me not to do it, but I did.

I got in.

The car lurched, and off we went. I was flanked by Lobo and squished against some other big, greasy guy with tattoos all up his neck. His arms, hands, and even fingers were covered. This guy never even smiled the whole time I was there. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes had passed when the guy driving pulled a u-turn right in the middle of a block. With tires squealing, we pivoted and pulled up in front of a two-story brick building. Gang symbols covered the crumbling walls. It looked junky out back, as though the residents had just tossed the garbage out the rear doors. My hands still shake even today, just describing that awful place.

We all piled out of the car and walked to the front of the building. Several sentries stood watch out front. I thought to myself, "As if this would be worth protecting." Walking into that horrible place would change my life forever.

Recruitment into a gang was different for guys and girls. Young men would be groomed from an early age to do small tasks and rise in status as their roles changed. Girls had but one way in—fucking!

Being young and stupid, I figured I had this under control. Lobo wasn’t that bad-looking. If he wanted to get it on with me, I’d do that. I wasn’t a virgin anyway. A boy near my aunt’s house had taken that almost a year earlier. Besides, the status Lobo seemed to hold would at least give Momma, Carlos, and I a little protection from the other low-lifes hanging around. I figured it would be better for us if he was at least partial to me.

Some dirty, warm bottles of beer were handed to us as we climbed a narrow flight of steps up to the second floor. I was quietly rubbing the top portion of the bottle, trying to wipe any grime from where my lips would touch it. I didn’t want to offend any of them right away.

Upstairs, there were maybe fifteen to twenty guys hanging around. I was relieved to at least see a couple other girls there playing pool over by a bar. A cloud of tobacco smoke hung like a curtain across the ceiling. Lobo and I sat at a table and opened our beers. Some guy walked up and offered Lobo a hit from a joint. He accepted it and then passed it to me. I thought I should, just to be polite.

The buzz was almost immediate. It even made swallowing the beer possible. Lobo began talking, and I seemed to be paying attention, but I was more interested in the surroundings. So this was it. This was the big, bad lair. I took a second hit from something someone shoved in front of my face, and after that things got really fuzzy. Lobo was asking if I wanted to go to the lounge with him. I was feeling really dizzy at this point and figured maybe the chairs or a couch would be more comfortable.

I remember Lobo and I were going down stairs again, and then into a basement area. It was dimly lit and smelled of mold. I was thinking like a dumb ass, so this is where the secret meetings are held. I flopped down at the first open spot on a ratty couch. My legs were so wobbly that it felt good to sit. Lobo sat next to me. He offered another hit off something, but I refused it this time.

Lobo was complimenting my looks and the sharp way that I dress. I kind of figured he wanted sex. I could tell because we were completely alone, and he was acting very nervous. I started kissing him, and he responded awkwardly, trying to push his tongue into my mouth right away. The taste of stale beer was still very present, so I kind of cut it off there. He began pawing at my breasts, and I remember opening my blouse to expose myself. At this point, he really began trembling. "Timid little boy," I thought to myself.

I was trying to loosen my pants, and I figured this wasn’t going to be the best fuck I would ever get. He seemed unsure and almost clueless about how to enter a girl. He lunged at me, poking his cock around like a horny dog. Finally, he got it right. I laid back and tried to enjoy his best effort.

He hurt! The dumbass hadn’t lubed up or anything. From some place he offers me another hit off a joint. I figured I might just need this, so I drew a drag and held it. I noticed he didn’t. I vaguely recall his effort because he didn’t seem to last that long. I do remember him grunting while his hands were pushing my breasts around. It wasn’t doing anything for me.

Suddenly, someone was trying to open my mouth and kiss me again. I closed my eyes this time. Then, I felt a cock being slapped against my breasts. A pair of hands began squeezing my breasts down really hard.

"Hey!" I said, "Not so rough."

When I looked up, it wasn’t Lobo. The big guy from the car with all the tattoos was shirtless and slobbering all over my breasts. I tried to get up but was held down by yet another pair of hands. The tattoo guy straddled me. I looked down and saw his stiff cock pointing right at me. He started lining up his cock to fuck me, and I started to scream.

"Get the fuck off me!" I yelled.

Before the next words could even leave my mouth, a hand covered my face. Another hand began stroking my hair. Hands seemed to come from everywhere. The tattoo guy rams his cock up into me. It was so hard, I thought it was a steel bar. I squirmed all that I could, but he continued. He was pumping at me like he had never gotten laid in his life.

My whole body was being tossed about as the guy jerked at my hips. Now some shithead with a hard-on was trying to jam another cock into my mouth. Fingers pulled my mouth open just in time for a load of cum to land diagonally across my face. No sooner had one guy stepped away when another would launch a spray from the opposite direction.

The tattoo guy was now groaning and began spewing his filth into me. I wiggled to try to push him out, but I think this just added to his pleasure. I couldn’t breathe; I needed air. All I got was a constant rainstorm of cum. Droplets pelted my face and neck from all directions. I think the tattoo guy was now done, and instantly another guy jumped on me and started lining up his cock. That one hurt too. By now, I could feel the loads still inside of me being worked around. Cumshots continued splattering my body.

My breasts were becoming raw from all the pulling and twisting. "What in the hell were they trying to do?" I thought. "Rip them right off me!" One or two guys were over me, biting and pulling at my nipples. I could feel hot cum pooling on every spot on my body. More grunting followed, and another flood of cum spilled into me. I knew I had to be full by now. Cum had to be being pushed out of me at this point. I lost count of the cocks that entered me. My eyes burned from the biting sting of semen splattered about on my face. I was blinded. Each time I got a hand loose to rub out an eye, a new load would replace it.

One cock, then another, and they just kept at it. I couldn’t speak or scream out. Anytime I opened my mouth for a second, some dick would launch a spray into my throat. I had already choked on half a dozen already. Would it ever end? Surely everyone there had to have had their turn by now.

"Lobo?" I called. "Lobo, help me!" I cried.

"Lobo, you fucker, where the hell are you?" I screamed.

I was trying to maintain some sense of myself. I didn’t want to completely lose all control. I was completely covered in cum. The only good thing about this was that eventually no one seemed to want to touch or pull at me anymore. My breasts were incredibly sore from the bites, pinches, and constant pulling that they had endured.

Suddenly a pair of hands clenched my face, and through tears I could make out two girls. These were probably the ones I had seen earlier upstairs. They were trying to force my mouth open. The one got my lips apart and held my jaw down. Someone from behind pulled my hair back against the cushion, and the stupid bitches began spitting right into my mouth.

One, then the other spat huge gobs at me. Most entered my mouth, and the rest mixed with the tracks of semen on my face. They were scooping the remains of cum off me and scraping it off into my mouth. I gritted my jaw. I think they knew better than to get a finger near my teeth. I’d have bit their fingers right off if I could, and I think they knew that.

While they were doing this, I spotted Lobo across the room, standing with some of the others, laughing and just watching. They all had beers in their hands and were rubbing their crotches as the girls assaulted me.

My composure finally broke. I couldn’t stop crying. I was pissed and scared up until now, but I realized that this was all just entertainment for them. Lobo wasn’t going to offer me any protection or friendship. He just used me to supply the gang with a fun night. This was all for nothing. I went from rage to collapsing into fear. I guess they had finally gotten their fill of my shame. The girls released me and followed the guys upstairs.

Just as I thought it was over, a lone guy comes running down the stairs. I guess he had gotten there late. The others must have said I was all his. The look on his face as he approached me broke all the remaining strength that I had.

He had this look of revulsion on his face. I was a total mess—reddened skin matted with cum sickened him. I was not even fuckable. He looked at me for a couple moments but didn’t seem to be able to muster up a hard-on. I was weeping uncontrollably. I looked up at him and thought, "Really, you want some of this?"

He looked me over for a few seconds, put his head down, and slowly walked back up the stairs. I sat there for a long time, trying to get myself together. The backsides of my thighs hurt from all the rubbing. Belt buckles and studs on the pants of some who hadn’t removed them had raked the backside of my legs raw.

I guess I finally realized no one was going to come down and help me, so I tried to stand. Cum was flowing out of me, trailing down my inner thighs. I took a couple of small steps. I needed something to wipe myself with. Looking around, there was nothing.

In one corner was a closed door. I thought it might be some kind of closet or maybe a bathroom. I sort of shuffled over to it, carrying my soiled clothing. My shoes were scattered somewhere on the floor, and bending over to pick them up was excruciating. The door wasn’t locked, so I tugged on it. It was jammed, so I pulled harder. The door popped open toward me. It was dark inside. I found the pull chain for the light.

The room was empty except for two bags lying on a small wooden table. One was a dirty green backpack, and the other was a duffel-type bag. Maybe someone had some clothing in there that I could use to wipe up with, I thought. I unzipped the duffel bag and was stunned to see bricks of white power wrapped in plastic and stacked neatly in rows. I couldn't be sure whether it was heroin or cocaine. I let go of the bag as if it were an electric shock.

I pulled the backpack up and opened it. I could not believe my eyes. Tight stacks of bills were arranged in neat bundles. Some were Lempira, but most were US dollars. Every space available was packed tightly. I touched some, maybe out of disbelief. I trailed my hand down one stack and pried back one bill. One hundred-dollar US bills—thousands of them I dragged my thumb down slowly. Were they all hundreds?

My hands shook and my body chilled as I realized I had discovered the very thing the gang relied on: cash—thousands, probably hundreds of thousands of dollars. This was likely part of the hard-earned money they had taken from people all over the slum as extortion, too. Poor people’s desperately-needed money was here, mixed with ill-gotten drug sales.

I sat on the filthy floor and began trying to get my shoes back on. I pulled my bra on right over the moist stains still clinging to me. I couldn’t find my panties, so I just pulled my jeans up and felt the wetness still trailing down the inside of my leg. My hair was a mat of drying semen. I tried to hold it back, and it actually clung together due to all the goo drying in it.

As I reached for the light and turned it off, I looked out across the basement. Towards the back of the room, I could see a set of stairs leading up to the rear. I shuffled weakly in that direction. The heavy door was held shut by three heavy drawbolts that were covered in rust and spider webs. The door had probably not been opened in years. Only a few steps up, I could see through the dirty windows that it was now very dark outside. I could hear the muffled blare of music coming from somewhere upstairs. The celebration was already underway. I guess I had only been the warm-up for the evening. I forced the bolts back and pulled the door open.

The rear of the building was a junk pile. Trash and garbage littered the whole area. The alley seemed even darker and would be the best way out.

Something in me would not let it go. The bastards had taken all of my dignity. I knew that Lobo would still see me around and think of me as shit. Fuck him!

Maybe it was some of the fogginess of the drugs they had used on me. I knew the rage was building inside of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t believe my legs as they turned on their own, and I staggered back into that basement.

The stash in the closet! I deserved it! I had certainly earned it. "Fuck them! Fuck them!" I kept repeating. I went back in, yanked open the door, grabbed both bags, and pushed the door closed. I practically stumbled going up the steps and out into the cool evening. "Bastards, goddamn bastards, every one of them!" I said to myself. I could now hear the party in full swing even from half a block away.

I walked for blocks and blocks. I knew I was miles away from home. Eventually I made my way to a busy road, thinking maybe someone would give me a ride. I stood along the curb but soon realized the futility of this. Occasionally, a lone truck would speed past. No one slowed down.

This was still a bad area, and no driver was going to stop. I looked like a mess. I smelled of cum, my hair was all matted down. No one would ever...

"The money," I thought for a second and figured maybe it would improve my chances. I unzipped the backpack and tore the band off a pile of bills. I snaked out a single one-hundred dollar bill and walked for a bit until I was clear of any buildings. I stood in an open spot and waited for the next group of vehicles to go by.

As the next vehicles approached, I held up the bill and slowly waved it. The group of cars blew past me. The next ones did the same. But then, suddenly, the last truck in the group slowed, and brake lights came on. I couldn’t believe it. An old pickup truck backed slowly towards me. The windows were already down. An old man was behind the wheel. He stopped and studied me for a second.

"Hola, Señor," I started.

"Do you wish a ride?" he asked.

"If you don't mind, sir," I choked out the words.

"You can hop in the back if you want to," he said, motioning over his shoulder.

I climbed in quickly before he changed his mind. He started off down the road, with me riding on the wooden crates he had stacked in back. The night air was cleansing in a small way. The stench from my body was being blown away. The wind and my tears had finally washed away the remnants of the gang’s attack from my eyes.

I began staring at the bill fluttering in my hand. I had never touched a bill so big. I knew they existed, but I never dreamed I would have something like that in my own hand. We went along for maybe fifteen minutes when, off to the right, I began to see the familiar shapes of the church steeples in my neighborhood. I tapped on the rear window, and the old guy started slowing down and then came to a stop along the shoulder. I slung the duffel bag over my shoulder, grabbed the backpack, and climbed out of the back.

I walked up on the passenger side still holding the bill and tried to offer it to him, but he waved me off. He was a kindly-looking old gentleman, most likely a farmer. His weathered skin and calloused hands displayed a hard but honest life. I let the bill fall from my grip, and it landed on the seat next to him. I thanked him, and he was off.

Chapter 2

I tried to creep as quietly as possible into my little home. I had hoped not to wake Momma, but I had just gotten inside when the light came on. Momma was still dressed and had been sitting in the dark waiting for me. Somehow, she knew something bad had happened to me.

I will never forget the look on her face. I was a total mess. My eyes had turned red, and my hair had become matted. The damp stains down my pant legs were still visible. She started crying. I couldn’t touch her. I started crying too. Tears I didn’t know were still in me flowed down my cheeks. During all this, Carlos had woken up. He was completely shocked at my appearance.

As only a mother can love her offspring, Momma’s first instinct was to grab washcloths and begin bathing me. She waved Carlos away with no voice, just heartbreaking moans. She ran the warm water in the tub and laid out towels on the floor. She carefully helped me remove the clothing which was stuck in places to my skin. Her agony and hurt grew as each article of my clothing was peeled away.

My breasts were covered with bite marks and scratches. She knew! She knew in her heart what I had gone through. The rape had left marks all over me.

She gently stroked my face with soap and a soft cloth. Pouring warm water over my head was the most comforting feeling I could ever remember. Soapy water cascaded down my shoulders, taking the filth with it. She wrapped a towel around my head, pulled my face into her bosom, and held me there. I could feel the vibrations in her body as she wept.

We didn’t speak of the things that had happened. There would be time for that later. For now, she just wanted to hold me and reassure me that I would survive this. She was just thankful that I was alive. Our moment in the bathroom was short lived. As she led me out the door and into the cool room, Carlos was standing there with the two bags I had dropped on the floor. He had opened both of them. The contents were clearly visible. Momma looked at me. Her face was white as a ghost.

"Maria, what…?

Carlos was speechless too, but he already knew. He picked up a brick of dope and held it out.

"The gang’s?"

Somehow, in the clear light of our small room, the reality of what I had done was beginning to dawn on me. Momma started to panic.

"Take it back," she said. "Take it all back," she kept repeating herself.

Momma’s voice began to show her terror.

I was shivering now and almost ready to pass out. I hadn’t thought of the consequences. I hadn’t thought at all. Carlos just stood there with a blank look on his face. And if it wasn’t bad enough already, the first words out of his mouth were, "They will kill us all for this." We all knew it was true.

"Take it back," Momma kept repeating, her voice now rising in terror. Carlos looked at her in disbelief. "We can’t, Momma; they will murder us all and cut our heads off."

Carlos sat on the bed, shaking his head. "We are all dead."

"Damn it, stop saying that!" I said, crying again.

Momma cradled my head, almost shaking it. I knew she was beside herself, and yet she still wanted this all to just go away. Carlos finally said the most responsible thing.

"We’ve got to get Uncle Enrico." "He will know what we should do."

"We will, first thing in the morning," Momma said. "Now we need to sleep."

"No!" "We have to now!" said Carlos, almost shouting. "They will be here tonight and kill us for sure."

Carlos began getting dressed. He needed to get to a friend’s house to borrow a phone. We were too poor and didn’t have that luxury. He hurried out as soon as he was dressed.

Uncle Enrico was speechless when he arrived and heard what I had done.

"My God, child, what were you thinking?" he said.

I had shed enough tears that evening to last my lifetime. The horror I had brought down on us all would be the end of everything I had ever known. Uncle Enrico paced the floor. He was shaking his head, trying to devise some way. He hadn’t seen what they had done to me, and Momma’s pleas for returning it fell on deaf ears. I had never seen Uncle Enrico so upset. Finally, he grabbed Momma and sternly held her arms to her sides.

"Mija," They will kill us if we try to return it, don’t you understand this? We have very little time. We must leave. We must all leave. They will hunt each of us down and kill every one of us. "We have to leave here now." His words didn’t register at first.

"For how long?" I asked, sounding dumb.

"Forever" was his stern answer. "Pack, pack quickly." Now! "And take only what you need; hurry!"

How does someone tell you something like, "Just leave your life?" My world was changing right then, in the early morning hours of that day. Things would be different from all that I knew from now on.

We loaded up Uncle Enrico’s work van with every scrap of our small lives. We had to disappear forever. We traveled quietly through the night to an old warehouse that Uncle Enrico had rented for the tools and materials he used in his business. I had assumed we would go to his house at least until morning, and I was foolish enough to ask. My world continued to crash down around me as he looked at me with disbelief in his face.

"I have to disappear also." "They will kill every one of us, my family as well!" "Don't you understand this either?"

I felt so guilty and terrified at what I had done to the ones that I loved so much. Uncle Enrico left to rescue his family. Everything they knew and loved was going to be ripped from them that morning, too. I couldn’t deal with it anymore, and so I slept.

I awoke to the sounds of Momma talking. My aunt Sofia and my cousin Luis were there. I didn’t see Uncle Enrico anywhere. Carlos was eating some food that someone had brought in. As I began to stir, my body reminded me immediately of the abuse I had suffered the night before.

My legs still ached, and my breasts were extremely tender. Momma came over with a small glass of juice which I tried to drink in small sips. Aunt Sofia was just staring at me. I knew she hated me in that moment. I felt like shit for having destroyed their lives too. Cousin Luis came over to me and began to hug me. I winced from the pain. My breasts felt as if they had been treated like punching bags.

"I am so sorry," was all I could say, "so very sorry."

After a little bit, Uncle Enrico showed up driving a rental truck. It dawned on me that all worldly possessions from both families had to go with us. Aunt Theresa, his sister, was with him. He must have driven across town to bring her into hiding, too. I guessed that everything she owned was also in the back of the truck.

This was crushing my spirit; just how many lives had I destroyed last night? And after Theresa fed me and housed me for all that time, Uncle Enrico came over and handed me a wrapped sandwich. He touched my head in a loving gesture. I felt so horrible. I knew they were all hating on me for causing all of this. The adults were discussing various options and plans. Both Aunt Sophia and Momma cried several times. The voices got louder, and then urgent whispering went on. Luis was called in, and they listened to his opinions. I just sat quietly on some boxes nearby. My knees were drawn up, and I just stayed that way. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to offer any suggestions. After what seemed like hours, Uncle Enrico called Carlos and me over to where they were talking this all out.

I guessed that some decision had been reached and agreed upon. Momma and Aunt Sofia were still sobbing. Aunt Theresa just sat there expressionless. I think she was just in shock. Carlos and I walked over. I gave Momma, Sofia, and Aunt Theresa a gentle hug. They each patted my arm softly.

I have always trusted Uncle Enrico. He was a man of the world. He knew things. He had spent his life dealing with issues surrounding his situation. Raising a family here was a challenge, and he was an honest, common-sense man.

"Okay," he finally said, "This is where we stand." "Maria, the problem is this," he said, holding up a package of the dope. "This is not the gang’s property; it is Sinaloa," he said in almost a whisper.

"See here; look at these markings." "I know of these people."



I had also heard the name before.

"The Sinaloa cartel will kill for this." "All hell is about to break loose, Maria," he said, looking very grim. "The Sinaloa cartel is absolutely ruthless." "They will not only kill us but even people we know." "Torture is their specialty." "There is over half a million dollars in that bag, and this heroin you took is worth at least that much."

"Six hundred twenty-five thousand," corrected Carlos.

My brother had been passing the time by counting the money. He had been quietly arranging the stacks of bills in piles on the floor. Uncle Enrico looked me square in the eye and said,

"Congratulations, young lady; you may have just fulfilled your papa’s wish."

"The cartel will exact a terrible revenge on the Barrio 18 gang." "They may kill or torture every last one of them." "The smart ones should disappear; the stupid ones and their families will likely die in a most horrible way," he said.

"We will survive," he repeated, trying to convince himself and us.

"We must survive."

Chapter 3

The plan was difficult. We had to split up. Uncle Enrico said they would be looking for us all together, so we stood a better chance by dividing into two groups. I was hearing the words, but the details were a blur. Luis would go with Carlos and me, and we would take the drugs and some cash and make our way to the United States border. We could not afford to be stopped by the authorities because the cartel owned most of them.

Momma, Sofia, Theresa, and Uncle Enrico would head west, then north, along the west coast. It was better not to know each other's exact route. They could not be carrying any of the drugs because they would pass checkpoints and borders. Luis, Carlos, and I would travel the route by rail, like most of the poor single immigrants. There was less chance of us being stopped if we mixed in with the crowd.

Luis and Carlos knew of web sites on social media where we could make contact with our parents once we were at the border or had even made it across. They wrote these down and agreed on false names to identify ourselves to each other. They explained to Uncle Enrico that public libraries had access to the internet. We would try to leave messages, if possible, along the way. Luis warned them against using any cell phones, as these can be tracked. The reach of the cartel was everywhere.

We all lent a hand packing what would be carried in the back of the truck, but how do you stuff three families’ entire lives into a small truck? I felt so miserable. I had destroyed everything my Uncle and Aunts had built, and Momma too. Each time I picked up a photograph frame or personal memento, tears began to flow down my face. Uncle Enrico was busy attending to the details of our journey. He looked over and saw my face. He walked up to me and gently pulled my head against his chest. He rubbed my shoulder and walked me away from the truck. We walked over to a quiet corner. He pushed me down onto a little wooden box. He squatted down right in front of me, cupped my face, and lifted my chin. I looked right into his dark eyes.

"Maria, this can be a new start for all of our lives," he said softly.

"We all love you and understand what you went through."

Yes, they were all upset at first, but they knew I wasn't to blame for the gang's presence. Uncle Enrico went on to explain that life wasn’t good for his family either. The gang’s extortion demands were bleeding him financially. He had to pay extortion to live and work each time in the neighborhood. He was also about to lose his home. He hated the way things had become. He held my face up and forced my gaze.

"You have given us a chance at a better life, Maria." "We just need to work together to make this happen."

"I love you all so very much," was all I could think to say.

I resolved right then to do whatever would be necessary to see that we would all be together again and in a better place. Uncle Enrico felt that we could spare no time and that we needed to get moving immediately. We couldn’t be sure how long it would be before the gang realized the drugs and money were missing. Once they discovered it, they would fan out, frantically searching for us themselves. They could only delay the cartel so long before it became obvious they had lost both the money and the drugs. Eventually, though, the cartel would learn the truth, and the vengeance would begin.

Hopefully, the cartel would think one of the gang had taken it at first. It might take the torture and killing of every last gang member for them to learn the truth. Momma hated the idea of bringing the drugs. She abhorred the drug trade, but Luis convinced us. It could be used to buy our way through to the border. And it would be an admission of my guilt to leave it behind. Certainly the cash would be necessary to pay our way as well.

Yes, running made us look guilty, but to stay was certain death. The gang would pay for their stupidity as an example to other gangs. The cartel would then come after us. So, we needed to be ahead of them—faster and farther than they would ever look. Getting out and away from San Pedro Sula would be the most dangerous part. If the gang hadn’t discovered the theft, we had a good chance. Otherwise, they would be waiting for us. We dare not go back to any place the gang might be waiting.

Guatemala City, according to Uncle Enrico, is about 280 kilometers away. If we left very soon, we could make it before dark. The border between Honduras and Guatemala was poorly guarded and was a routine crossing. He had made the trip often for supplies and materials he used. It was mostly a main highway, and we would blend in with the other commercial traffic. We would travel all together at least that far. The railroads heading northeast would carry Luis, Carlos, and me from there.

Most highways heading up into Mexico were patrolled by the authorities, and many drug enforcement stops were along this route. Uncle Enrico would drive toward Mexico City. The four of them would appear to be just poor immigrants traveling north.

The money was easy to hide, but the drug’s scent would attract drug enforcement dogs if they were ever stopped. Uncle Enrico had me wrap the duffel bag several times in layers of trash bags. He worried that even the residue smell might alert dogs to the truck's contents even after we had split up. He didn’t want the authorities to have any suspicions about them. A search of the truck might find the money instead.

Within the hour, we were bouncing down the rough roads of town. Luis, Carlos, and I huddled in the rear among our family’s only portable possessions.

I never even got to have one last look at the place I had called home for my entire life, but I kept quiet. I knew that everyone else was probably thinking the same thing, and it was all because of me.

I kept the duffel bag on my lap in order to keep the scent from mixing with the rest of our possessions. It would be about a six-hour drive. If we make it, it could be the first step toward a better life for all of us.

Staring at the wrapped duffel bag was a constant reminder of the attack. My only solace was the knowledge that, in the next few days, Barrio 18 would be no more. The hardest part would always be not knowing exactly what happened back home. We could never go back, and I would always wonder who survived. Friends, neighbors, and those who knew us might suffer terribly.

Uncle Enrico was a man of his word. If he told you something would happen, you could trust it to be true. Yet, the not ever knowing would always haunt me.

Each hour ticked by slowly. Each one meant our chances were better. We stopped for petrol once we were well into Guatemala. We might have been leaving the reach of the gang, but the danger of the cartel would always surround us. Uncle Enrico knew Guatemala City well. He had business contacts there. He felt the need to rent a different truck. He reasoned that every time we could cut a trace back to us, it was a good thing.

It was a warm evening, and he had gotten us enough food for a meal. Uncle had also bought some wrapped food for us on our journey.

While Momma and Aunt Sofia were laying out our meal near the rear of the truck, I noticed Uncle Enrico approach Luis. He quietly took him out of hearing range of his mother and aunts. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small object. I was near enough to hear his words. My uncle passed a small pocket compass to Luis. He stood squarely in front of him, proudly, his strong hand firmly grasping his son’s shoulder. I could clearly see tears welling up in his eyes.

"Norte, Norte, always Norte," he quietly told him.

Uncle was speaking like he was not expecting to ever see his son or us again. I had to turn away. Tears flooded my face. Uncle Enrico was a man who rarely showed his emotions.

We sat in the dusty truck rental place, eating our food. We were all staring at each other as if we might not ever be together again. Momma broke down several times, sobbing. I could hardly eat either, but I knew we needed to do so when we had the chance. We transferred the load of the truck into the new one and sort of stood there not wanting to face the next thing.

My grandpapa used to tell me about a type of bird, I have forgotten its name. He said that if the bird’s nest or the young ones were threatened, the mother bird would feign injury and run across the ground as if crippled. She would flap her wings and drag herself to draw predators away from her young.

I loved and trusted my uncle. I knew that he wanted us all to succeed, but I couldn’t help feeling that he was putting Carlos, Luis, and my lives ahead of theirs. I believed in my heart that this was what he was really doing. Uncle Enrico was leading the danger away from us.

He had already told us the cartel’s strongest hold was on the western routes heading north. Our path would lead us away and eastward along the less obvious Gulf Coast. Their route would lead them right into the region that Sinaloa controlled the most. I walked up to Uncle Enrico and put my arms around his shoulders. I kissed his cheek and told him how much I loved him.

Uncle knew where the migrants usually hung out. The rail-yards were closely watched, and only if you contracted with and paid locals could you get in the line moving north. It would just be the first of many controlled illegal routes one had to pay to use. Luis, Carlos, and I split the drugs equally among us. We buried five packages in each of our backpacks and hid lower-denomination bills among our clothing. Uncle felt it would be more normal for us not to have larger bills. It might seem like a trail if we used hundreds all along the way.

I could hear Momma crying softly. I couldn’t bear to look at her. I had hoped to see and remember her smiling. Aunt Sofia eventually broke down in tears, too. Uncle Enrico drove us only a little bit before pulling to the side of the road.

We climbed out of the back of the truck and approached the cab. Momma’s head was buried in her hands. Her body was heaving as if her heart was being ripped from her. I climbed over my aunts to Momma. I hugged each one as I made my way back out. My brother and Luis did the same. Carlos and Luis promised to look out for me, and just like that, we watched them drive away.

Trucks were available for hire to haul people to the train yards, which were forty miles north of the city. Groups of twenty to thirty people were awaiting their turns. Small groups were assembling down at the other end of the street. As we approached, I noticed something. There were no families, no wives, and no children—only young men! I couldn’t pick out a single girl from among any of them.

This was a shock. Only young men seemed to be awaiting the trucks' arrivals. A sick feeling was starting to wash over me. This was not what any of us had envisioned. I had assumed groups of families, all happy and cheery at the prospect of a new life, would be milling around. Instead, seedy bunches of young men stood around smoking, all trying to look tougher than the next group.

Luis acted quickly. He pushed Carlos and me into a darkened alley. He backed me up to a wall and started looking around. I had thoughtlessly sort of made-up for meeting new people, new friends. My perfume was noticeable, and my snug-fitting jeans showed the hips of a young girl. Luis reached into a pile of garbage and began rubbing my face with a rancid scrap of newspaper. Stains of "God only knows what" were impregnated into that paper. He pressed it into my face and began scrubbing. He dipped it into the stagnant water on the ground and continued smearing the filth across my cheeks and forehead.

Tears welled up in my eyes as the stench entered my nose. I began crying. I knew that what he was doing was necessary, but that didn’t make it any easier. Carlos was totally clueless and tried to stop Luis from this assault. With tears flowing down my cheeks, I pushed my brother away. I knew why Luis had to do this, and I was determined to bear this out. My face was being covered with the filth and grime from the dirty alley floor.

Luis tugged again and again at the stretchy material of my hoodie, trying to conceal my breasts. He then pulled the hood up, covering my head, and released the straps of my backpack. He lowered it, trying to cover my butt. It now hung loosely, deflecting attention from my hips. Luis cradled my face firmly. His nose was only inches from mine. He shook my head.

"Stop crying now!" he whispered firmly. "You stop it!"

I wiped my eyes and steeled myself. I blinked a couple times and inhaled the foul odor he had covered me with. I ended my emotional outburst instantly. I pushed my hair behind my ears and back into the hood. I lowered my head and shoulders, and I never looked up. I followed Carlos and Luis out of that alley, walking as "manly" as I could.

We crossed the street and picked the smallest group standing near the road. I never looked up or spoke. We just waited near the others. Luis and Carlos didn’t smoke, so there was no reason to address anyone else. Shortly, a couple of box trucks turned onto the street and headed towards us. They cut their headlights as they approached.

So began our journey.

Chapter 4

We had to wait nearly two hours for our turn. We handed over the toll and squeezed into the back of the truck with maybe thirty other guys. The truck shook and lurched forward. It took nearly an hour before we reached our destination. The rear door opened, and we were herded like cattle towards a fence that had been cut. No one spoke. You just followed the person in front of you. A worn dirt path led down into the rail yard. Groups of young men stood around waiting. We were clueless and just stood waiting, too. Bells rang, and occasionally a train horn blew. Luis picked up on the pattern, but sometimes too late.

I saw Luis slip the small compass from his pocket. He was figuring out which trains were pointing north. Uncle Enrico’s forethought had just given us an edge over most of the others there. Bells rang, and occasionally a train horn blew. Luis picked up on the movement, but sometimes too late.

We began drifting over to a line of boxcars. Luis had figured out the pattern and which trains were headed north. He got us near one of the middle cars and suddenly pushed me up the ladder. Up on top were others who had anticipated this train also. Soon the train’s whistle let out a blare, and it jolted the cars. Yes, Luis was right! We were indeed moving in a northerly direction.

In a rush, a mob of others hit the train cars and fought for the few spaces left. Most didn’t make it as the train picked up speed, leaving those too slow to fall to the sides. We rode on through the night. Luis and Carlos lay on either side of me. Luis would bump me each time I forgot and rolled onto my back. My breasts shone prominently when I laid like that. He kept pushing me onto my side throughout the night. The heat of the next day had me sweating constantly, but I knew to keep myself covered.

Luis figured we were well into Mexico by now. Maybe headed to Veracruz. By that evening, we had drunk all the water we were carrying. Thirst and food would be things we would need to pay attention to from now on. The motion of the train swaying as it plodded along became a familiar rhythm.

Sometime near midnight, the train began to slow down. It didn’t alarm us at first, because we had waited as trains passed us from the other direction several times. Suddenly there were whistles and shouting. The train passed slowly under a metal bridge spanning the tracks. Uniformed men with rifles were standing on it, shouting to stand up and place your hands on your head. Spotlights lined the sides of the train. A couple people near us tried to jump down and run away, but that resulted in probably breaking your leg or ankle. The train lurched to a complete stop. People near the ladders stood looking down into a web of flashlight beams.

Slowly, a reluctant procession of riders began to climb down. Once on the ground, the flashlights blinded everyone. We were led by guards holding rifles. No one doubted the seriousness of the guards. There were two large pens maybe fifty meters ahead. One was already full. The other was just being filled. They were herding us towards it. Carlos and I were at the very end of our group. Further down the way, I could see white buses lined up and being filled. Mexicali police were searching each person before they were forced onto the buses.

They would find the drugs and money! Surely, they would turn us over to the cartel. I walked slowly as we neared the pen. One guard up ahead was shouting directions. I was in complete panic. I won’t go back. I mumbled to myself. I will die first! Just as I approached the last guard on my left, I froze. The guard looked at me and shouted, and instantly I pulled my hood back, revealing my long hair. The line moved away from me. It was dark around us, and his flashlight shone right into my face.

The guard had a look of total shock on his face. I wouldn’t budge. With almost no hesitation, I started loosening my shirt at the waist. Before the guard could even do or say anything, I pulled my shirt up to my armpits. My bra left no doubt in his mind that I was female. I fought back all emotion, reached under my bra, and exhaled. With one swift movement, I lifted my bra, and my breasts sprang free and just hung there.

The guard’s mouth hung open as he stared at me. His partner up ahead shouted and then walked back towards us. His eyes widened as he gazed at my boobs hanging there. He turned around and returned to the pen door. He pushed the last guy in, slapped a padlock on it, and came back over to the two of us.

The second guard was somewhat older. He grabbed my shoulder, shoving me towards a small guard shack right next to the pens. The shed was occupied by a third guy, who must have been the officer in charge.

He was kicked back in a chair with his feet up on a small desk. He practically fell backward as the other two guards pushed me in. He began to stand up and I drew my bra up once again. You would have thought they had never seen breasts before.

I reached under my boobs and lifted them. I pushed them together and upward for the men to see. I kind of bounced them up and down. This caused all three men to gasp. The guy nearest me reached out and started to touch my breast. I caught his hand and pulled it against my boob and moved his hand around. I stopped only to slide my backpack off. I removed my hoodie and sort of covered the backpack with it. I didn’t want them to focus on it too much.

I turned back and grabbed the guy’s hand again and led it to my breast. The guy to my left was speechless. I reached for his chin and pulled his head right to my left nipple. The guy started nursing like a baby. Thank God he was gentle, because they were still sore as hell from the other night. The guy behind the desk was awestruck. I looked him square in the eye. His buddy was sucking away now, making grunts as his lips pulled against my nipple.

"Do you want to have the best shift all this month?" I asked him.

"Dios mio!" he exclaimed.

"Si, Si."

"Three blow-jobs, si?" For me and my two friends out there to go free, Si?"

"Si, por favor," he nodded with no hesitation whatsoever.

I pushed the guy off my boob and removed my shirt entirely. I undid my bra and draped it on top of the backpack along with my shirt. I turned around, and the guy on my right just helped himself to my breast. The guy behind the desk seemed to be the boss, so I guessed he wanted to be first. I pointed to his crotch and waved my hand. He needed no further encouragement. His pants dropped, and he began digging his cock out. He began jacking at it frantically.

"No, no," I said, "My job."

He came around from behind the desk, and I kneeled before him and drew his half-hard dick into my mouth. I felt like such a whore doing this, but I had made myself a promise to do whatever it would take to see my momma again. I will suck cocks all the way up to the United States if that is what it takes.

I didn’t know for sure if these guys would stand by our bargain, but I saw no other option. I worked that guard’s cock like my life depended on it. I took it as deeply as was possible and stood up and offered my breasts to suckle at. I dropped down again and worked him for maybe another five minutes. Finally, he grabbed my head and started jerking urgently. Spurts of his cum shot off into my mouth like a hose. He violently thrust at my face until he was totally spent.

The other guard had been standing right alongside us. I had reached over a couple times already and was using my hand to jack his cock. He jumped at his turn. His jabs poked his cock-head against the back of my throat constantly. He was so urgent that he wanted no part of my breasts. He wouldn’t let go of my head, and he just pumped at my face until his orgasm. I swallowed and gulped as he hammered at my throat. I looked up to him and extended my tongue. The white layer of paste in my mouth was from him. I think he was pleased.

The last guy, the youngest, was the most timid. I couldn’t help noticing a ring on his finger. He was married. I guess this was not something he did regularly, but he was not going to turn down this opportunity either. I did not know if his wife would do this for him or not, but I was going to be the best he ever got.

I stroked, sucked and took him as deep as my throat would allow. I pushed my breasts together and cradled his cock in my cleavage. I rubbed my breasts against his slippery cock until it burst forth his jet of cum. I rubbed my sore boobs up and down until I had milked every last drop from his wilting cock. I looked up at him and scooped up as much cum as I could find. I used my fingers to poke it into my mouth, licking off the remains. I held my tongue out for his approval. His face revealed his satisfaction.

I stood up and faked a confident smile at them. I hated myself for doing this, but I figured I had a better chance if I just assumed they would follow their end of the deal. I grabbed my bra and quickly put it on. I put my shirt on and got the hoodie over my shoulders. I stood there waiting. So, what would it be? My stomach was churning, and I thought I might throw up. I was ashamed of what I had just done, but I steeled my emotions and tried to keep it together. The two guards who had brought me in went outside with me. My hands were visibly shaking as we approached the cage. Carlos and Luis had worked their way nearest to the gate.

The moment was at hand. The one young guard drew out a key and opened the padlock. He held the door partially open. I stood, expecting the bargain to be honored, and to my shock, the guard looked right at me. I pointed to Carlos and Luis, and he allowed them out, then slammed and locked the pen door.

"Vi, rapido," he said, pointing to the other end of the train yard.

The three of us ran. We fled the rail yard area and didn’t stop running until we were out of sight of the very last train. The roads became dark very quickly. Finding our way would be impossible until morning. We came by a small ravine with some tall grasses growing up around it. We decided to stay put for the night among the thick growth. I was so tired that anything would do at this point. I used my backpack as a pillow and just curled up on the ground.

Carlos was looking at me. I couldn’t see his face and it was too dark to read his expression, but I just felt like it could wait until morning. Luis sat down alongside me. I pulled him by the shirt and snuggled my backside up against him. Carlos finally sat down, and I pulled him near to me also. I felt safe with their bodies touching me on each side. I didn’t care what they were thinking of me at this point; I just wanted to sleep.

Chapter 5

The morning would come too soon. Noise from a busy road nearby woke us. I was already missing Momma’s cooking and her warm daily greeting. We didn’t talk that much. Luis focused mostly on how we needed to keep moving. Roadside vendors sold foods and drinks along most major thoroughfares. We had to walk some but finally found a stand selling food. Water was the most awesome thing. I had taken it for granted back home. On the road, you drank when you had the chance.

Luis was trying to figure out the best way to continue. He was told by the vendor that we were about three hundred kilometers from Veracruz. Carlos had been giving me the silent treatment all morning. While Luis was talking to the street vendor, I figured Carlos and I needed to talk.

"Por favor, hermano."

I told Carlos that I loved him and that I truly wanted only good things for us in the future. But we had to have a future for that to happen.

"You saw the Mexicali police, didn’t you?" I asked. "Did you not think they would find the drugs and the money?" We would all be sitting in jail right now, waiting for the cartel to pick us up. Maybe by now they would have been torturing us, and we would soon all be dead. "Is that what you wish to have happened?"

I have never confessed to Carlos exactly what went on in that rail yard shack, but they both knew by my clothing that the guards didn’t just let us go free for no reason.

"Hermano, brother, I love you, but don’t judge me." "I will do whatever needs to be done to see Momma again."

"We will get through this," I said, pleading with him.

Carlos didn’t respond, so I gave him a hug. He gave a half-hearted embrace in return. I knew he was ashamed of me, but I couldn’t see any other way.

Luis had learned that there was a refueling center not too far up the road. The vendor had suggested the best route into the city was by hitching a ride on a truck. He also warned against being seen walking along the road. Authorities didn’t like seeing too many vagrants on the roads heading into the city. They had enough problems. More homeless people heading into the city were just more trouble. The police would rather see people leave the city. They left those people alone. You became someone else’s problem then. We thanked the man and headed up the road.

When we arrived at the truck stop, it was near noon. It was a large travel center. The lot was full of over-the-road trucks, all of which were idling while the drivers were inside eating lunch. Our plan was to try to talk some driver into giving us a lift to Veracruz. Very few of the trucks were occupied, and if they were, the drivers turned Luis down flat. The risk was too great. Trucks were always in danger of getting hijacked by thieves looking to steal their cargo. No driver would risk it.

After a dozen or so refusals, we left the lot to go inside. At the very least, we could eat lunch. The bar was lined with drivers who were all eating the noon meal. We sat at a table and ordered some food. For now, we seemed stuck on how to get a ride. Carlos kept insisting we should just use some of the money we had brought along with us and offer to pay for a ride. Luis overruled this as very dangerous.

Yes, we were literally carrying thousands of dollars of the cartel’s money, but there were many others hanging around the bar area who looked rather rough. Any display of cash would attract the would-be robbers among them. They would figure we were carrying more money. We needed to look and act poor. Only by begging could we reinforce the idea that we didn’t have anything worth stealing.

Luis had learned much from his father. He had a thinking man’s head too. My brother Carlos meant well but was just plain clueless as to these things. We finished our meal and were trying to figure out our next move.

Two men near the bar caught my eye during lunch. They were both wearing matching logo shirts. They had their backs to us now, but I noticed when we came in that one of them turned to look in my direction.

"Wait here for me here," I said.

I left my jacket and backpack with Luis and headed into the girl’s restroom. Inside, I tried my best to make myself attractive, or at least clean. I scrubbed my face and pulled my hair back. I couldn’t waste time with make-up, but I felt maybe my youth would suffice. Instead of returning to our table, I walked towards the bar area. There was a seat open next to the two men I had been watching. They both noticed me right away. I sat and smiled. I began a polite conversation with the guy nearest me. His buddy was still eating, but he had eyes all over me. As I made small talk, I could see his friend’s roving eyes checking out my body. I constantly flashed a friendly smile in his direction too.

I told them I was desperate for a ride for myself and two friends up to Veracruz. They both shook their heads, saying it would be against company policy for anyone to be with them in the truck. They were headed in that direction, but they could not be of help. I really turned on the charm; I knew rules were rules, but would they make any exception?

The rear of the travel center was set up for professional drivers. On the way in, I had seen a sign advertising a shower area for truck drivers. I had never been in something like that, but it made sense that guys on the road needed a place once in a while to clean up. Over-the-road truckers could not only get a meal, they could shower, shave and they even had a laundry center back there.

These two guys seemed about as normal as a couple of drivers could be. And the one had been obviously interested in checking me out. I steered the conversation to the weather and just how warm it had been. I complained to the one guy about how stuffy it was in the bar. I innocently pulled at my shirt and blew down the open part just under my chin. I seductively asked where a girl could go to get cooled off.

The guy who had been checking me out suggested a cooling shower might do the trick. I guess he thought it was a joke, but I jumped at the offering and was holding him serious. I smiled warmly at him and stared him down. His eyes wouldn’t leave my gaze. Finally, the smirk left his face, and he looked down nervously at his food. I seized upon the opening and went for it.

"Would you be willing to buy me a shower?" I asked innocently.

His partner choked; he practically spit out his coffee.

In my most flirtatious voice, I asked if he was interested in joining me. They had both laughed at his joke, but now they realized I was serious. I complained that I had not had a shower yet today, and how nice it would feel. I was actually very serious about that part. I had all the grime and dirt from our days of traveling on me. I was longing to feel clean again. This was my only hope. Would they go for it?

The guy finished his mouthful of food and asked, "Was I a hooker?"

I was shocked and very hurt by his comment, but I quickly decided it was best to keep the mood light and not show my true feelings.

"No," I smiled at him sweetly, "II don’t want your money."

"But I would really like to take a shower...." I said, my voice trailing off.

"Paulo is my name," he offered, standing up.

He extended his hand. I shook it softly.

His buddy also stood up. "Vicente," he said.

It was only now that I realized they had company shirts with their names sewn into them. I thought this was so cute and polite enough to stand for me too. Vicente left money on the counter for their lunch. Paulo and I walked down the hall to the rear of the building. I had never been in this part of a rest stop before. There was a small cashier's stand. It sold cigarettes, liquor, and other supplies truckers would need. Paulo inquired about the shower rooms and paid for the use of one.

The clerk was a young guy. He took Paulo’s money, handed him a key, and gave him his change. He pointed to a door just down the hall. I couldn’t help noticing the cashier guy was giving me a once over. He maybe thought we were a couple wanting some private time alone together. I told myself I didn’t care what he was thinking.

Vicente caught up with us as we entered the shower room. Paulo unlocked the door and held it for Vicente and me. I did truly want a shower, and it would feel terrific to get the grime and dirt off me. The little room was adequate for one person, but we all three squeezed into it. It was basic, just a sink, a place to hang your clothing, and a surprisingly clean shower complete with towels, soap, and shampoo.

I took the key from Paulo and locked the door, then innocently leaned back against it. I was trying to hide my hands behind my back because I was shaking so badly that I thought they would both notice. I was trying to get a feel for exactly how to handle this. My nerves were showing, but I pretended to be in control of how this would go. I kept telling myself that this was just necessary. I needed something they had, and hopefully I could get it from them. I placed a clean towel on the floor and slipped off my shoes and socks. The two guys seemed to not believe their luck.

"So how would the company feel about me riding in the truck if I was all nice and clean?" I asked with a nervous smile on my face.

I started a slow strip. I placed my hand up to the top button of my top and began to unbutton it ever so slowly. I had to use both hands to still my quivering. I could hear the two men’s breathing actually change pitch as I began to unbutton my shirt.

I took as much time as possible and finally slipped my shirt off my shoulders. I stood there in my bra, looking at the two of them. My bra was actually dirty, but I don’t think either one of them noticed. Both men just seemed frozen. I reached in for the shower control and turned the water flow on.

"Well, do you want to join me?" I asked Paulo.

I actually longed to get under the shower, but first things first. I looked at Paulo and pushed right up to him. I placed my chest right up against his. Reaching back, I unclasped my bra. He held the sides of the bra as I backed away. His jaw dropped noticeably as the full-frontal view of my breasts was revealed. I asked him if he liked what he saw. No words came out of his mouth. The steam from the shower was beginning to fill the room.

"Look, guys, we’re wasting water," I said.

"The deal is this," I said, "I will fuck one of you right now and the other one when we get to Veracruz." Deal?"

"Hell yes!" stammered Paulo.

"Okay then. Who will be first?

"Me now!" Paulo snapped, not even giving Vicente the chance to speak.

I unbuttoned my fly and wiggled out of my jeans. I deliberately placed my hand on Vicente’s shoulder to steady myself. Vicente emitted an audible gasp as he gazed at my now near-naked body. I dropped my panties and climbed into the warm shower. I immediately stuck my head into the steaming water. I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation of the cascading water rolling off my face.

By the time I had lathered up my hair, Paulo had stripped and climbed in with me. He pulled the curtain closed and placed his hands on my hips. I wanted Vicente to witness this as an incentive to follow through on their end of the deal. I wanted him to see what he would have coming at the other end of our trip, so I pushed open the curtains again and asked to leave it that way. Paulo was standing between my spread legs. The warm water rolling off my body was being shed right onto him. The feeling of clean water running down my body was amazing.

I leaned forward, pushing my breasts out towards Paulo. I cupped them both and lifted them, offering the soft flesh to him. He bent forward and kissed each one gently, then buried his face into the wet mounds. The marks from the gang’s rape were now just pink blotches. I looked out at Vicente; his mouth was hanging open. I offered my wet arm out of the shower to him. He brought my hand to his mouth and started sucking on my wet fingers. Paulo was now nursing at my breasts like a child.

I could feel Paulo’s cock brushing against me. I knew that he was rock hard. I pushed him back some and soaped him up. He just stood back, admiring me. I reached down and used the soap to lather up his cock. I washed it gently, stroking him ever so slowly. I gazed up at him, and as soon as the soap left his cock I squatted down and took him into my mouth. He immediately held my head still and began jacking against me. I pulled his cock out of my mouth and started licking away at his balls until I thought he might just go off from that alone.

I stood up and leaned back against the shower wall, thrusting my hips towards him and spreading my legs. He gripped my hips and squared himself to me. The soap suds were washing down my belly and rinsing his cock. I used a finger to rub and loosen my slit for him. With a firm grip on my hips, he steered his cock right into me. I leaned back on the shower wall for support. I placed both hands on his hips and helped guide him in.

I had never fucked anyone standing up before. He pushed solidly until he was deep inside of me. I had to really lean back in order for him to be able to thrust. As I did, he started grunting. Then he picked up speed and began thrusting with greater urgency. I tried to kiss him on the mouth a couple times, but he couldn’t hold his breath long enough. All his energy was going into thrusting as rapidly as possible.

I flattened my shoulders against the wall and used my hands on his hips to control his thrusts. I turned my head toward Vicente and looked him right in the eye. I puckered my lips and blew him an imaginary kiss. I didn’t like acting like such a tramp, but I really needed to know that I could count on his desire for me. His expression was very real. He was so turned on just watching me getting fucked by his partner. He had a hand over his crotch and was rubbing himself.

"Don’t do that now," I said wickedly. "Save yourself for me later."

Paulo was almost lifting me off the shower floor at this point. I placed my hands on his shoulders and just hung on. His urgent groans let us all know that he was cumming. He banged his hips against mine and shook. I was so enjoying the warm water pouring down my body that I don’t think I even felt his cum. He shuddered a last couple jolts and buried his face in between my boobs. While he did this, I blew another kiss over to Vicente.

The warm water had refreshed my spirit. I felt clean again. Paulo and I toweled off, and the three of us all left the shower room together. Several other drivers stared at us as we all exited the little room. As we walked back through the eating area, I spotted Carlos and Luis. I gave them a wave-on. They immediately jumped to their feet. As they approached me, I said, "We are on our way to Veracruz."

Chapter 6

I thought it best not to do too much in the way of introductions. It must have been Paulo’s turn to drive. He had us rolling down the road in just a few minutes. Carlos and Luis squeezed into a little space behind the seat. I sort of shared the passenger seat with Vicente. I don’t think he minded so much. I didn’t go into exact relationships, but I assured Vicente that neither of the guys was my boyfriend. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable with me practically sitting on his lap.

Luis was actually talkative with the guys and me. Carlos was quiet. I think he was sulking again over my method of getting us a ride. We would need to have another talk later.

The truck was actually an interesting way to travel. I tried to keep the conversation light. I knew Paulo and Vicente were honest, hardworking guys. They were putting their jobs in jeopardy by allowing us to ride with them. Three hundred kilometers passed quickly. The two guys had shared many stories of their years on the road. I actually began to like these two.

It was early evening as we pulled into Veracruz. Paulo and Vicente were really helpful with directions and routes north. Luis learned quite a bit from them. Paulo said that their present route would take them west from Veracruz. There was a major truck stop near where they planned to turn westward. We pulled in and parked among other trucks. The truck stop was much bigger than the one where we first met up with them.

Carlos and Luis were going to head into the travel center for food. I had an obligation I needed to fulfill. I told them I would catch up to them later in the center.

The truck had one of those little sleeper units toward the back of the cab. It wasn’t roomy, but it would do. I climbed back onto a little sleeping bunk and began peeling off my clothing. Paulo drew a curtain around the front windows and pivoted the passenger seat around. I wasn’t nervous or self-conscious around these two guys. Both had treated us well, and this was my payback. I was okay with it.

Vicente stripped and crawled in next to me. He laid down next to me and began caressing my breasts. I was on my back, and he gently kneaded the sides of my boobs. I reached out to Paulo, who sat watching from the front seat. I wanted to include him as I had with Vicente earlier that afternoon. He took my hand, and we held each other. Vicente was actually a good lover. He was gentle, and he cared about what he was doing to me. He massaged my clit with one hand as he nursed at my breasts. In just a little bit, he had me moaning. I think he didn’t want to enter me until I had a solid orgasm first. How considerate.

I couldn’t have imagined myself ever doing something like this with complete strangers. I had to force my emotions and morals aside for now. I focused on Vicente’s fingers. His gentle touch was impossible to resist. I released myself, set aside all that was happening in my life, and decided to just enjoy the sensation he was delivering. I shuttered through my first orgasm. I grabbed his cock. He was as stiff as possible. I encouraged his penetration by drawing my knees up and rubbing my clit with it. He sank his manhood into me ever so gently. I felt so complete. I tugged at Paulo’s hand at each peak of emotion.

Vicente was gently rocking his hips against mine. I knew he had learned how to treat a woman. His pleasure was enhanced by mine. He wanted me to enjoy the sensations, and I guess this in turn heightened his enjoyment. I didn’t want to distract Vicente, but I motioned for Paulo to pull out his cock. I wanted to feel both at the same time. Paulo stood up and unfastened his belt and loosened the front of his pants.

His enjoyment of watching me getting fucked by his buddy was obvious. His hard-on bounced around as he tried to position himself close enough to me. I scooted on my shoulders and got my mouth within range of him. Vicente might have been a little out of sorts, because up until then he had been kissing me gently on my face. But he didn’t say anything. He just moved his kisses to my breasts and belly.

I held out my tongue, and Paulo set his cock squarely in the middle of it. He didn’t thrust. He just let me draw it into my mouth and suck on it as I wished. He used his hand to stroke his cock and would then gently bat it against my tongue. I soon got the idea that he was just wanting to cum in my mouth. I went and gave him a warm target. It wasn’t long before he increased his intensity, and I knew he was close to cumming. I got my mouth as close as possible, and sure enough, he began to jerk his hips.

Three or four spurts of cum gently landed on my outstretched tongue. The warm, salty flavor instantly rolled into my mouth. I swallowed each deposit as it came. I tried to control my gulps because I was still sort of on my back. One swallow went down wrong. My gag reflex was instantaneous. I coughed and convulsed as I tried to force it out. I hadn’t even considered Vicente, who was still thrusting at me. He was just about to climax.

My muscle contractions caused my cunt to spasm on Vicente’s cock. It must have felt amazing to him. He roared out and began unloading in me. He jerked at my waist almost violently as his orgasm continued. I struggled for air. I continued to curl, tighten, and tried to cough out the obstruction in my windpipe. We went on like this until each of us was exhausted.

The absurdity of it all was too much. I couldn’t help but break out in the most laughter I had in weeks. Paulo and Vicente followed as soon as they could catch their breaths. We all belly-laughed for so long that it hurt my sides. Paulo offered me a bottle of water as I climbed out of the cab. I raised it towards them as they drove out of the lot. They returned with a long blast of their horn in a gesture of their good-bye.

I headed into the travel center to locate Carlos and Luis. I did not want to spend another night sleeping by the roadside somewhere. I told Luis we needed to get a hotel room. We had the money, and I wanted a bath and a clean bed tonight. Luis agreed. I ordered some food, and afterwards, we headed towards some hotels nearby. I knew they wouldn't all be, but this had been a good day.

Chapter 7

The next morning was a fresh start. We were able to launder some clothes and get some much-needed items. We had the money; we just needed to be careful when and how we spent it. After a good breakfast, we felt our best way out of the city would be to purchase bus tickets.

The day got off to a beautiful start, but it didn't last very long. Next to the bus station was a news stand. Local papers, magazines, and national news publications were for sale. I think Luis noticed it first, but as we passed it, we all paused. One of the national paper’s headlines in bold print read, "Slaughter in San Paulo Sula." I saw the bold print, and it read something about "bloodshed in the streets." There were pictures below. I felt as if the air was being sucked out of my lungs. I turned my head. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to look or know the details. My hands began to tremble.

Uncle Enrico’s predictions echoed in my ears. My body seemed to just go numb. Feelings of dread sickened me. I couldn’t put aside the realization that all of that might just be because of me. I suddenly felt like I needed to sit down. Just outside the doors of the bus depot were some wooden benches, and I started to sit, but Luis grabbed me and pulled me up.

"Not here, not now," he said.

Luis was very nervous about hanging around a public transportation facility. So, we just walked away. Maybe a block or two later, we stopped and huddled near a small alleyway. Luis was suddenly very worried about us being seen together. Public buildings had security cameras. There was no way to know just who would have access to those. We decided it would be best to separately purchase our bus tickets and even sit apart. The three of us traveling together on public transport might alert cartel snitches.

I wasn’t sure if Luis was being paranoid or not, but his instincts had saved us more than a few times already. Tampico was 467 kilometers north. It would be a full day’s ride on the bus, and I was looking forward to a less stressful day.

Luis left to go get bus tickets and let us know about the departure time. This gave Carlos and I time to talk. We sat on a nearby park bench, and I hugged him. I knew what Carlos was thinking. I wasn’t sure if I should be mad or embarrassed. My slutty behavior was not normal for me.

"This wasn’t easy for me," I told Carlos.

I knew he felt like I had become a whore, and I wasn’t sure how to make him understand.

"I am responsible for all this," I said.

I had foolishly thought I could handle the gang.

"Damn it, I am paying the price for my stupidity," I said.

"I wasn’t going to let our fate be in the hands of those wishing to kill us," I said.

I tried to sound like Uncle Enrico. "We will all get through this."

I swore that I would do this as many times as necessary to survive and make things right for us again.

"This is all that I can offer," I pleaded.

Carlos just stared at the ground, not saying anything. A short while later, Luis returned. We had almost three hours to wait until the bus departed. Once again, we seemed to get lucky, as one more step of our journey would soon be behind us.

The wait time allowed us to seek out a local library. Under certain conditions, public internet access is permitted. We checked the media site we had agreed on and found no messages from our parents. I found this a little worrisome, but Carlos and Luis both felt it was still too soon to be concerned about this. We left a short message as to our progress and assured them that things were okay with us.

The bus ride was uneventful, and we did sit apart just to blend in better. We arrived that evening in Tampico. Carlos and I were feeling tired and wanted to tap into some more of the gang’s money we were carrying. Luis was very reluctant to do this and preferred to stay in the poorer area of town and act broke. Carlos and I were just as insistent that we had the money and we should enjoy some of it. Against Luis’s better judgment and, I think, just to please me, we took a local cab to one of the city’s nicer hotels.

I was awed by the lobby. It was something I had only seen in magazines. We paid upfront for a night’s stay and headed towards the elevators up to our room. Even the elevator ride was a new experience for all of us. We located our room on the fifth floor. We were all astounded by the luxury amenities. Luis was still pouting and kept on about being noticed. He worried the cartel would be expecting us to foolishly live it up on their money.

I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him. I kissed him gently on the cheek and rubbed my nose against his face playfully, trying to bring out his normal spirit. He finally cracked a smile as I flung myself, arms wide-open, onto one of the soft beds. Looking down at me, he couldn’t help but grin as I wiggled into the gloriously soft bed cover.

We decided to have food delivered to the room. This is something I would have never thought of doing in my wildest dreams. Luis was okay with this. He preferred that we not be seen too much anyway. We enjoyed the most wonderful food. It was a feast fit for a king. We stuffed ourselves until we couldn’t eat another bite.

A little while later, Luis felt he should go out and scout out the next step of our journey. He certainly didn’t want to approach anyone at the hotel. We had passed several working-class bar areas on our cab trip here. He felt he could mix in and find out if others were heading our direction and how. Luis was still insistent about laying low and not being conspicuous. He stashed his backpack under the bed and only took enough money to buy information if necessary.

Chapter 8

There is something about having a full stomach. I guess Carlos and I were just anxious about our future. Yes, there were going to be difficulties ahead, but for now we were feeling invincible. We sat around for a while, staring out from the balcony. The hotel's property was grand. Despite Luis’s warning, Carlos and I longed to see just how the rich and famous enjoyed their lives. We figured if we didn’t leave the property, we would be fine. We left the room and rode the elevator down to the main lobby. We felt out of place walking around there, but the staff seemed to generally accept us.

There were several uniformed security staff now standing near the outer doors. Our room card allowed us into the walled outside areas of the property. Carlos and I marveled at the beauty of the landscape behind the protection of the gates. Fragrant flowering trees were spread about. Cascading fountains fed water into beautifully designed pools. Native birds chirped and called from the treetops.

Once inside the gated area, all the staff seemed to greet us warmly. I could get used to living like this very easily. Carlos and I even splurged and enjoyed a drink at the bar near the pool. Life’s problems seemed so distant. I sort of felt like we deserved this treat. I hated to leave this paradise, but there were still obstacles ahead, and we didn’t want Luis to come back and find the room empty.

Our room was amazing. The bathroom was larger than any I had ever imagined anyone could ever need. I left Carlos to watch TV and planned to spend the rest of the evening soaking in the huge tub. The swirling water of the Jacuzzi drowned out all other distractions. I practically cooked myself in the steaming water. I was beginning to feel weak, and any soreness in my muscles was now only a memory. I wrapped a towel around myself and covered my hair with another. The cool air of the room struck me as I exited the bathroom.

A cold hand grabbed me by the shoulder. I spun around to stare into the face of an ugly, fat man with a gun pointing right into my face. Instantly, I saw Carlos over by the balcony door. His wrists were shackled to the railing. It was one of the security guards that we had seen downstairs.

"You are Maria, yes?" he kept repeating.

He was almost jabbing the gun in my face. He jerked at my shoulder, shaking me and trying to force an admission. I looked over to the one bed and saw both of our backpacks lying on top, hanging open. Several of the bricks of heroin lay scattered on the bedcover beside them.

"You are her, Si" he said again.

My instinct was to scream, but then I realized that this man was somehow connected to the cartel. He was probably just a local hotel security guard and had probably never drawn his gun before now. By the way he was shaking it and waving it in my face, I thought he was as scared as I was. My hands clung to the towel wrapped around my chest. I was concerned for Carlos, but he didn’t seem to be bleeding or anything. I guessed the guy had caught him off guard and surprised him. He was handcuffed to the top rail of the balcony. He sat helplessly with his hands pulled up over his head.

The guard was extremely nervous. He started trying to push me down to the floor. I tried to sit as he pressed down on my shoulder. The towel was just barely covering my bottom. I tried to lean somewhat to keep my hips covered. I looked up at the guy. He was a fat, ugly pig. His belly hung over his belt. It shook as he constantly waved the gun back and forth between Carlos and me.

Our failure to listen to Luis had caused us big trouble. Obviously, the cartel had spies out watching for us. This dumbass had spotted us, and I guess he saw a large payday if he turned us over to the cartel. There was not much use in denying anything. He had proof of the drugs lying right out on the bed. My body began to tremble almost uncontrollably. The thought of being handed over to the people who would likely end our lives was overwhelming.

I had to stall; that was all I could think of. I couldn’t let him take us from that room. I didn’t know if he had thought this through. How was he going to lead Carlos and me out of the hotel? What if Luis comes back? Did he have enough restraints to manage all three of us? How would he get us through the lobby and get us out to a car? Would he call for help or turn us over to cartel members right there in the room? God help us; maybe he had called them already.

It dawned on me that he assumed there were just the two of us. Luis’s backpack was likely still hidden under the bed. Our only hope lie in Luis coming back and somehow saving us. I knew we were doomed once we left this room or the hotel. I wasn’t sure if the guy would even try to take both of us at the same time. Would he kill Carlos and just turn me in for the reward? I had to stall somehow.

The ugly son of a bitch was probably in his forties and didn’t seem all that professional. I think he might have gotten a general heads-up from cartel leaders to be on the watch for us. Damn, I think he just stumbled onto us with a lucky guess. Carlos was trapped and could be of no help. Shouting out would only bring more unwanted attention to our room.

I have never told Luis or Carlos this, but at that moment I was considering just jumping off the balcony. I would rather die at my own hand than have the cartel torture me to death. The only thing that stopped me then was leaving my brother chained to that rail. I couldn’t just abandon him that way. But I quickly made up my mind that I was not leaving that room. I knew we would both die if we did.

The pig was giving me the most attention. I had no choice. I had to think of something. I loosened the grip I had on the towel on my chest. I let it slip from my armpits and drop to my lap. I let the towel wrapped around my head fall away, dropping behind me. My damp hair fell and clung to my face. I just sat there naked to the waist.

The guard’s eyes immediately focused on the sight of my breasts. I was leaning to one side wishing to crawl to Carlos. The guy was still shaking the gun. I really didn’t think he was just going to shoot me right there.

He was standing right above me. I could sense his nervousness. He never took his eyes off me now. I sat up straight and crawled to where Carlos was restrained. As I left my spot on the floor, I left the towels lying there too. I knew my butt would attract all of his attention now. He didn’t like seeing me move without his order, but I needed to be with Carlos. I think my nakedness just left the guard speechless.

I scooted over next to Carlos and leaned up against him. I buried my head in his chest and began sobbing. I was truly terrified and thought this would be the end of both of us. I remember staring at the balcony. I again thought if I just jumped off it, this would all be over. Momma, Enrico, and Luis’s faces flashed before me. I just wouldn’t let them down.

The guard guy seemed to be okay with us huddling together. He could now keep Carlos in his sight and also satisfy his fixation on staring at me. My mind was racing. I needed to come up with some plan or something. Even if Luis came back now, how would he defeat the gun-waving dumbshit right in front of us? Stall, stall, was all I could think. Time was all we had. What else could I do?



Okay, I will admit this is the sickest thing imaginable. I know that I will surely suffer in hell for this despicable act, but I could not see anything else to do. I am so ashamed. I was never going to speak of this again, and I was truly willing to die instead of doing this, but I would not leave my brother Carlos to die at the hands of the cartel alone. I reached for Carlos’ belt and began to unfasten it. Carlos looked shocked. He struggled to push me away. I managed to grab his zipper and tugged it down.

The guard was as shocked as Carlos. I fought for control of my brother’s belt and undid it. I pulled his jeans open in front and buried my face in his underwear. I stuck out my tongue and began licking at the fabric of his underwear. With my ass up and my head down, the guard had a clear view of everything. Carlos struggled and cursed at me. I wouldn’t relent. Keeping my mouth against him, I continued to try to arouse him. The guard had no issue with this. I wasn’t even sure if he knew Carlos was my brother. He didn’t care. I guess he figured the cartel would kill us anyway. What would be the harm in watching a girl give her boyfriend one last blow-job? Time was all I could think of. We just needed more time.

I finally got really upset with Carlos for fighting me. I straightened up and squatted. I roughly jerked his pants open. His shriveled-up cock was nestled in his pubic hair. I had to hurt him to allow me access to it. I’m sure I had drug it along his zipper some, but I continued to fight him for control of it. Finally, I got his pants down far enough to give me room to get my mouth on him.

I licked and probed with my tongue, trying to get some reaction. I guess the guard was thinking we were boyfriend-girlfriend and that I wanted one last taste of cock before I would be killed. It seemed to be working. The guard had sat down on the edge of the bed and was watching me struggle for control of Carlos’ cock. He never said a word. It seemed to take forever, but finally Carlos started to react. His cock stiffened and lengthened somewhat. I never looked up at Carlos. I couldn’t have. I could have never borne the look on his face.

Carlos jerked his hips at me again and again, trying to push my mouth away. Finally, I had enough. I sat up straight and then slapped him hard across his face. He seemed stunned. I got back down and continued pulling his cock into my mouth. Somehow, from then on, he seemed resigned to allowing me to continue. I didn’t care if he understood or not. I did not want to die!

I eventually had him hard. I was popping his cock in and out of my mouth. The guard was staring at me the whole time this was going on. I could tell that he was getting turned on. He never blinked or uttered another thing. Finally, I sat upright and turned with my pussy toward the guard. I lay back with my legs open and my knees in the air. My butt was flattened out on the cool tile floor. I rested my head in Carlos’ lap and continued to pull and stretch at his cock.

I put my hand between my legs, and I started massaging my clit. The guard was so fascinated that he finally lowered his gun. His hand slumped to his side. After just a couple minutes, I could sense he was becoming horny. He began by rubbing his own crotch, and then finally just had to open his own trousers to free his cock. The perverted bastard started stroking his cock right there in front of us. This whole time Carlos’ cock continued to grow harder.

I don’t know exactly what I did to set Carlos off, because I thought I was hurting him more than anything else, but he suddenly groaned and had a cum. The spurts of jizz leapt from his cock and splattered against my cheek and neck. His grunts continued, while he was banging his hips against my head until he finally seemed through.

The guard seemed absolutely thrilled at this. I was still fingering my clit rapidly and now patted my belly. My pussy was red by now. The guard was completely beside himself. I spread my knees open and thrust my hips up and towards him. He couldn’t resist the invitation and suddenly got up off the bed and began removing his pants. He looked ridiculous standing there with his belly hanging over his cock. His uniform shirt luckily covered the most disgusting parts of him. The dumbshit left his gun lying on the bed, got down, and crawled over to me. I was now flat on my back, and I guess he figured he would just flop his fat gut on me and have a quick fuck.

The dirty pig climbed on top of me and almost squished all the air out of my chest. It was hard to tell if he had even gotten his cock into me. He fell on me and started rocking. He was letting out short little grunts as he tried to locate the right spot. I was trying to look away from his face, as it made me sick to think that this was how low I had sunk.

Just then, some small scrap of luck smiled on me in this most terrible moment. Over the guard’s shoulder, I could just see Luis entering our room. He was quietly advancing on the guard’s gun, still lying on the bed. I made no movement to give him away. Luis picked up the gun and quietly came along-side of us. He placed the gun’s barrel against the guard’s head. The guard froze in mid-thrust. I burst into tears. I struggled and pushed the ugly bastard off me and curled up in a ball. I lay there on the floor sobbing.

Luis snapped me out of it by yelling at me to get the keys. Carlos was still attached to the balcony rail. I needed to get him free. I got up and went to the bed and fumbled through the guard's pants. I found the right key on the belt and released Carlos. Carlos and I then put the guard in the same spot Carlos had been. Only now could I stumble to the bed and fall on it. I curled up and cried uncontrollably.

Soon, I felt someone place a blanket over me. I looked up. It was Carlos. He stooped down over me and gently kissed me on the forehead. I put my hand out, and he gave me a gentle squeeze. I stayed there, sobbing.

In just a little bit, Luis touched me. "We had to go," he said. We didn’t know if the guard had called someone already or not. We could not take the chance. The cartel could even be on the way right now. We had to leave immediately.

We left the guard handcuffed to the balcony rail. Luis and Carlos stripped him completely and threw all his clothes off the balcony. We kept his gun, belt, and cell phone. As we left, Luis warned the guard that the cartel would likely kill him for allowing us to escape. He might want to consider changing his whole story. It might be best for him to deny having ever seen us.

We threw the guard’s keys and phone into a sewer a few blocks away. Luis and Carlos differed on whether to keep the gun or not. Luis didn’t want to, but Carlos argued that we might have to defend ourselves. Luis’s common sense finally convinced Carlos that nothing good would come of us having a gun. We headed on our way without it. Luis insisted that we get as far away from that hotel as we could.

Chapter 9

The luxury of a night spent in a fancy hotel was gone. I had done something despicable with my very own brother. I couldn’t believe he would ever forgive me for having committed incest with him. I could only hope he would never speak of my behavior to anyone. I didn’t know if Luis had even figured out how the guard came to be in our room or what had actually happened.

My mood was one of utter shame. I hadn’t even looked Carlos in the face since. Thank God it was so dark along the roads. It was very late, and we found ourselves in an area with very few buildings. No lights were in sight, and we stumbled constantly. Luis finally felt we had gone far enough and allowed us to crawl into a thicket of trees and rest until morning.

I woke several times throughout the night, startled by either a sound or the visions of the ugly guard pressing down on me. But even in my nightmare, I wouldn’t allow myself to replay what I had done to my brother. The dawn came much too early. I hadn’t slept much. Luis didn’t exactly go into much detail about what had happened last night, and Carlos and I certainly didn’t want to talk about it either.

Luis had been successful in finding out about a way north and possibly even a way around the U.S. border. He had paid a man a hundred dollars for the name of a contact in El Galaneno. The guy said he knew of this man who would smuggle people across the border by boat. He would take paying customers to Corpus Christi, in Texas, USA. He was a relative of his, and he told Luis the guy was reliable.

El Galaneno was several days' travel northward. Luis was now unwilling to go near any transportation center for fear that the cartel would be waiting. We were able to make it in four days by hitching rides on farm trucks heading north. For a large portion of it, we even walked.

We found the information Luis had been given to be truthful. Sure enough, a man at the address said he had a boat. He was willing to take us north of the border, but he wanted a thousand dollars from each of us for it. I wondered if he was just bluffing to see just how much money we had. That was a huge amount, and normal migrants would never be able to afford that. I thought maybe he would barter with us, but he seemed to be insistent on the price and genuinely didn’t seem to care if we just walked away.

Luis, Carlos, and I had a serious discussion outside the man’s house. Luis finally decided we would pay the money, but that we would have to come back later with only a portion of it. Luis was afraid that if the man thought we had it on us now, we might just get robbed and lose the money and the passage.

The boat’s owner was a huge man. He had scars all over him. There was a particularly nasty gash across his left cheek. He was a brute. He had obviously been in many vicious fights in his lifetime. He looked like he could just rip a man’s arms right out of their body. Tattoos covered his massive arms. His hair looked like it hadn’t been cut in years. His whole demeanor was that of someone who just took what he wanted. I don’t think he uttered a kind word in our presence. I tried not to make eye contact with him the whole time we were on the porch.

We were to return the following evening around nine p.m. We spent an anxious day wondering if we were being set up or being ripped off. We really didn’t have any other options. The following evening, we arrived just before nine. There were others there waiting as well. I guess we just assumed we would be alone, but four rather serious men were standing around waiting too. We were taken by open truck down a rough backroad for miles. There were no signs of houses along this route. Soon, you could sense that we were nearing water.

We arrived at a small shack. There was a dock out back, and the property seemed to sit right on the water's edge. The place was a total mess. The house looked like no one had cared for it in a very long time. There were a couple mean dogs barking out in front. They challenged anyone approaching the property.

The boat was tied to a small dock behind the shack, and its engine and lights were already on when we arrived. It was a fishing vessel. The sides were lined with long, vertical racks that once held deep-sea fishing gear, but now they seemed to just hold rust. There was an open section in the rear. It was old but looked to be a functional boat. We weren’t given a tour or anything, but you could see at least a couple cabin rooms inside toward the front.

Three of the four men going with us were carrying large duffel bags that never left their grip. They made me nervous at first, but in another way, this all seemed very professional. If they were carrying illegal stuff to the U.S., they seemed more concerned about it than messing with anyone else. I guessed this trip was a legitimate thing; otherwise, why would they be here also?

Shortly after we boarded, I was shocked to see a girl with one of the crewmen. She was maybe about my age, but very rough looking. She stayed near the one crewman, and I guessed she was his girlfriend. She wasn’t much to look at, and she cursed constantly whenever she spoke. I counted the captain, the two crewmen, and the girl as all making the trip.

The four men sat right next to each other and opposite us in the rear of the boat. They had never said a word since we first saw them. The captain seemed to be attending to some issues near the shack. Finally, he came on board and ordered his crew to cast off. We motored slowly, with very few lights on, through a dense backwater area full of lagoons and stagnant pools.

Eventually we rounded a point, and the warm Gulf breezes blew away the foul diesel fumes. As we headed out into the dark waters, I sat looking back, thinking to myself that this might be the last time I would ever see my homeland.

The captain put the controls in auto mode and then fixed the wheel. He left the controls and really spoke to all of us for the first time. He said we would go out maybe ten miles and would have to wait for a call from a friend. This person, who worked within the U.S. Coast Guard, would flag our vessel as having been cleared to return to shore in the US. The captain said he could not enter US waters until he got the signal from his partner. He wasn’t certain exactly when his friend would be able to signal, so we would just have to wait once out there.

He hollered for the girl to keep watch at the wheel, then left to go down inside the cabins below. The girl seemed familiar and competent to handle the boat. She was constantly eyeing her cell phone, though, and seemed more interested in it than anything else.

In just a little while, one of the crewmen came out and asked Luis to come down below to see the captain. This was something we were unsure of, but what would we have done about it? Luis was gone maybe ten minutes, and the same guy came back and said Luis wanted to talk to Carlos. I started to go with him, but the crewman said the rooms were very small and Carlos would be right back.

"Everything is okay; not to worry, the captain just wants to know where exactly you would like to get dropped off," he said.

I felt nervous now, as all of the attention of the other four men was just on me. It was just a few minutes later, and the guy comes back again and says they need me too. I was led down to the cabin and relieved at first to see both Luis and Carlos sitting on a small couch in the captain’s quarters. Both were sitting straight up at attention. I figured maybe they were discussing options.

As I entered the small room, the second crewman moved in behind me. I noticed his movement and turned quickly to see him now with a gun pointed right at me. My stomach dropped. I knew instantly that this was a nightmare unfolding. I was pushed onto the couch and sat next to Carlos and Luis. The captain was sitting by a small desk, grinning like a wild creature. He too held a small pistol partially hidden along his leg.

"And so, you are the famous Maria, huh?" he laughed.

My skin temperature must have dropped five degrees as a terrifying chill swept over me. "He knew!"

He pointed at my backpack, and the first crewman ripped it from my hands. He began rummaging through it and quickly found the five packages of heroin I was carrying. He dumped the rest of my things out on the floor. He had no trouble finding the stack of money I had hidden in between my underwear. The captain ordered one crewman to tie each of our hands. He wasn’t gentle. The guy lashed my wrists so tight I thought I would pass out.

"It looks like I need to make a call to a friend," the captain laughed.

"Take them next door," he said.

The two crewmen grabbed Carlos and Luis and shoved them out the door.

"Not her just yet, I will need proof." snapped the captain.

I never knew how the captain learned of my identity. I could only guess that maybe a picture of me taken by an old girlfriend had been posted, offering money for my capture. The captain began dialing a number and waited for someone to answer. While he was waiting, he started stacking the dope into stacks on a little table right in front of me. He picked up one of the packages, waved it, and smiled.

"Sinaloa will pay a great amount for this and for you," he said.

Just as he was connected, he picked up all our money and placed it into the top drawer of the little desk he was sitting at. He asked for a man named Miguel. Eventually, he was speaking to this guy and told him that he had someone who would be of great interest to him. He tapped a couple keys on his phone and held the phone out, facing my direction. I could see a grubby-looking man on the screen. My face was clearly visible on his screen. The captain panned down to the drugs stacked on the table.

The captain was offering to deliver me either to people in Corpus Christi or bring me back to El Galaneno. The man on the phone said he would have someone he trusted in Corpus Christi meet him within hours. There was no further small talk. I didn’t get the impression they were really friends. I think maybe the captain was just happy to take advantage of the guy on the other end and get some money out of him. They agreed on a place to meet, and the call ended.

I was sitting there, my hands growing numb. I was hostage, just feet from the scummiest person I think I had ever seen. His teeth were all blackened or missing, and his breath reeked of rot. His skin looked like that of a wild pig. His body odor suggested he hadn’t bathed in weeks. He leaned over to a small cabinet and drew out a liquor bottle, unscrewed the top, and took a gulp. He grinned and held it out to me.

"You might want some of this for when the cartel gets you."

He took another long gulp.

"Oh, Robre Nina," he said, shaking his head.

"They will have a hundred men or more, stoked on "Viagra," waiting for you." "You will never survive it."

"My poor little flower," he said with a devilish grin.

"But, perhaps I can help you," he laughed.

There was not enough fresh air in the room to breathe. His foul odor and sheer nastiness were just overpowering. He took another gulp of the liquor and stood up. He was a big man, as big as anyone I had ever seen. I cringed on the little couch, feeling the life draining from my body. He stood right in front of me and started to unfasten his pants.

"You will need my help to lessen your pain."

"I will help you by stretching you out," he laughed.

His grimy trousers dropped, and before my eyes was the most enormous cock I would have believed possible. The man’s cock was not human. It belonged on a farm animal. There was no way a normal woman could fit something that size into her. There wouldn’t be any way to have sex with something like that. It would be like going through childbirth for the woman. It would destroy any woman’s insides just trying to ride something like that. He reached for me and ripped open the front of my shirt. Buttons flew everywhere. He grabbed my bra, breaking the straps, and flung it in pieces against the wall.

"Dios mio," he uttered, staring at my naked breasts.

I was trying to cover myself, but he kept knocking my arms down.

He began stroking that enormous cock like a man possessed. "El Diablo," I thought. Surely the devil had done this to him. It would be the scourge of all women to have a beast like this walking the earth. Any woman he violated would never walk right again. The monster’s slimy cock was already leaking fluid. It was like some evil serpent oozing a foul venom and searching for a victim. All emotion was leaving my body with each breath.

He grabbed me at the waist and tore open my jeans, jerking them downward. He practically lifted me off the ground doing this. There was no struggling against someone his size. His filthy cock touched my body and was pressed up against my stomach. I couldn’t utter a sound. I was just shutting down all my senses. I prayed for a faint. At least then, the bastard would be denied my conscious resistance.

He tossed me down. I fell helplessly onto the couch. He hunched over me and started trying to mount me. The force was unbelievable. There was no stopping him and no way to accept his size. As my body was being stretched, my spirit reached deeply into some inner strength that I didn’t know I had left. I let out the loudest scream I had ever thought I was capable of, and I continued screaming. I hurt not only his ears but mine as well. I screamed again and again as he began forcing his way into me.

He smashed his huge hand down across my face. He was trying to silence my screams, but I managed to get my mouth open just enough for a part of his hand to get between my teeth. I bit down as hard as I could. The taste of blood filled my mouth. He ripped his hand away, leaving a chunk behind in my teeth. He bellowed like a wounded animal.

I would not accept this. I had been through enough, and I wouldn’t take this anymore. I will die first. He started rearing back with his other hand to smash my face in.

Just then, I became aware of something going on just outside the door, but the captain was now in full rage. With his hand raised, he was building up for a blow that would likely kill me.

Suddenly the door burst open, and one of the men that were traveling with us was standing there. He had a gun drawn and aimed right at the captain. Nothing was said; just a "BANG" and the gun went off. The shot went right through the captain’s head. Parts of his head left his body and splattered on me. Blood and tissue bits sprayed across my bare chest. My mouth and lips were already covered with blood from his hand.

Just then another shot rang out, and the man in the doorway holding the gun was thrown forward against the doorframe. Blood poured from his nose. He slumped lifelessly to the floor.

The captain’s twitching body rolled off of me. The ringing in my ears was overwhelming. The smell of gunpowder and smoke filled the tiny cabin room. In quick succession, a series of shots rang out. Bang, bang, at least eight to ten shots reverberated through the ship. There was shouting, then absolute quiet.

"Carlos, Luis," I called.

Just silence.

I struggled to get up. I tried not to even look down where the captain was lying. His blood was splattered everywhere. It was on me, the wall, and the table. His ugly face now looked like a grotesque mask. I was sore as hell between my legs. I felt damp, but I was afraid to look, fearing it was blood. I got to my feet and stepped over the dead man lying in the doorway. The room across the hall’s door was in splinters after having been kicked in. I could see Carlos and Luis sitting on the floor, tied back-to-back with tape over their mouths. I saw the look on their faces. I had blood all over my mouth. Pieces of the captain’s head were sticking to my chest. I must have looked like a horror movie victim to them.

I hadn’t heard a single voice since the shooting stopped. I got down on my knees and crawled to my brother and Luis. I began removing the ropes. Carlos grabbed me and held me.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, fearing the worst.

I looked like a slaughter had occurred on top of me. I managed to say I was not shot, "I’m okay." We held each other, afraid to even leave the room. Luis finally crept into the hallway. The guy who had shot the captain was crumpled in the doorframe. As we made our way up to the open deck, we stepped over the crewman who was not moving. Out on the deck, the remaining three guys were lying on the deck; one was still moving. We saw the girl the captain had left driving the boat. She was tangled awkwardly in the steering wheel. She was still sitting on the pilot’s seat, but blood was pooling on the white deck beneath her. She had been shot in the head from behind. Her face had been horribly distorted. The other crewman was slumped against a box just outside the door. It was a horrible scene, as bad as any massacre could be.

The lone survivor was on his side, groaning, and still holding onto the black bag he had carried on board. Luis saw that his gun had been knocked from his hand and had slid across the deck. He was moaning and struggling to keep hold of the bag. Luis went to his side. The poor man was mortally wounded. Blood seeped from where he lay. He could hardly speak but was asking for water. Carlos went below and found a drinking cup, filling it with some water from a cooler. By the time he got back, the man had ceased breathing.

I went back down into the room where the captain lay dead. I picked through my clothing on the floor and found something to cover me. I opened the drawer where he had hidden our money and stuffed it back into my backpack along with the rest of my clothes. I saw the drugs still sitting on the table, splattered with his blood. I just couldn’t touch them.

When I had gotten some clothes back on, I went back out on the deck. Carlos and Luis were both standing in the middle of the boat, surveying the carnage. We weren’t exactly sure what had just happened. Apparently, everyone on board who was armed killed everyone else. Luis told me the one guy had kicked in the room door where they were being held after hearing my screams. He heard my screaming again and went to the captain’s room, where he shot him. He was then killed by the crewman who came up from behind him. A hail of gunfire ended the lives of the girl and her boyfriend, and they all seemed to have killed one another.

We could only guess that maybe the men with the bags thought the boat crew was robbing each person one at a time and figured they would be next. I told Luis of the captain’s call to the Sinaloa cartel. And how he had sent a video of me with the dope spread out in front of me. They would be expecting me to be handed over once the boat made land. Luis was just staring into the dark. He seemed to be trying to put things in some order. The insanity of all the deaths left us in a situation. Luis was trying to cope with it all.

Carlos was over where the four men were originally sitting. The three bags they had carried on board were next to their dead bodies. Blood was splattered all over the place. Carlos unzipped the bags and was stunned to find a huge load of drugs. The two big bags held a stash of drugs packaged into brick-like shapes. The last bag was the one that caught all of our attention. Cash, hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth, stacks of it, all banded and put in marked bundles This was a huge amount. It wasn’t possible to even estimate how much, a million dollars maybe, or even more. Luis was still considering our options at this point.

The captain’s friend would call sometime, and what were we to do? Luis was slowly putting together a plan. He thought that if we could power the boat at least within sight of US territory, we could jump overboard and drift to shore on some flotation. If the coastal authorities spotted the moving boat later and gave chase, we might go unnoticed and make it to shore. No one other than the Sinaloa cartel really knew of our existence on the boat.

We went back into the captain’s cabin to retrieve our backpacks and the rest of our clothing. Carlos asked about the drugs still sitting on the captain’s table. Luis said to leave them. The drugs would be impossible to get to shore with. But here they might serve a purpose. We took all the cash the captain had taken from us. Luis pulled the captain’s pants back up and left him where he had fallen. He took his cell phone and kept it.

The cash in the bag was in itself going to be a challenge getting it to shore. No one would know it was here except the owners, and they didn’t know about us being on board.

Luis found plastic garbage bags in a small compartment and began wrapping our backpacks and the money bag. There were plenty of old flotation vests and floats that wouldn’t be missed. We left the bodies lying where they fell. Any investigation by US authorities would find things just as they happened. Carlos was questioning Luis about the value of all the drugs, but Luis’s idea was to erase any trace of us being on board.

"But what about the drugs we brought with us?" Carlos questioned.

"Only Sinaloa will know Maria was here."

"Leave all the drugs," he finally snapped. "The money is more than enough." "Do not be greedy in this," Luis warned."

"Besides, just who would we sell this all to?" "We are not drug dealers!"

Carlos and Luis lifted the poor girl off the pilot’s station. They set her face-down gently on the deck. The poor girl didn’t deserve any of this. But still, Luis had me find the girl’s purse inside and any identification she had on her. He thought I might need a new identity once in the US. We kept her cell phone also.

We waited for the signal from the captain’s accomplice. Eventually, a ping and a text came. It just stated "all clear."

Luis was able to get the boat moving again. Even though the vessel’s control panel was well-equipped with navigation devices, I saw Luis bring out the small compass from his pocket and hold it level in the palm of his hand. Luis was not an emotional guy, but as he looked out into the pitch-black waters ahead, I know I saw tears forming in his eyes. His Papa’s hand was upon his shoulder in that moment, and he was once again guiding us.

We ran at the best speed the boat could go. We wouldn’t see any lights for almost two hours. None of us knew exactly where we were until Carlos realized we could use the dead girl’s cell phone’s GPS.

We got within 5 miles of Corpus Christi and could clearly see lights along the shoreline. Luis cut the speed back to maybe half. He put the cell phone back in the captain’s cabin and used one of the guns lying on the deck to fire a bullet through it, destroying any memory it contained. We had readied our backpacks and the money bag. Luis took one last look around. He could think of nothing else we needed to do. We climbed on the back railing, and together we all jumped.

The water was warm. It actually felt good to wash away all reminders of the horror of that night. In a strange way, it was almost like a baptism of sorts, a cleansing, and a new beginning for us in a new place. The boat continued on its way.

It took us more than an hour to drift to land. We took the jackets and flotation with us because Luis didn’t want any evidence of us left along the shoreline. We placed it in a residential dumpster as we made our way inland. We waited until morning in a thick grove of trees. Even though we were soaked, the warm gulf breeze eventually dried out our clothing as the morning sun rose. Luis went on ahead and found a cheap local hotel, which gave us a place to lay low for a couple days.

Luis was returning from the market on the third morning with sandwiches for lunch. I was curled up on the couch. He dropped a local newspaper down in front of me. I could speak better English than I could read it, but I was able to make some sense out of it by stringing enough words together. On the bottom of the front page, a story read.

"Authorities reported finding a pilotless fishing boat run aground. The vessel was registered to a Mexican national named Jose Ramirez, a long suspected Los Zeta cartel drug smuggler. All eight people on board had been found shot to death. The bodies of seven men and one young female were recovered. Drugs from competing Sinaloa and Jalisco cartels were found aboard, leading authorities to believe this was a mutual robbery attempt having gone bad."



I looked up to Luis, who had the biggest grin I had ever seen.

"The Sinaloa cartel thinks that you are dead."

Epilogue:

You know, money can’t replace a lost past, but it can certainly help with a brighter future. The bag Carlos carried all the way to Tucson, Arizona, contained over 1.4 million dollars. We took buses from San Antonio all the way across to Arizona.

Uncle Enrico, my aunts, and Momma made contact with us near Nogales. It took about six months to bribe local lawyers to get them admitted to the USA. As they say here, "money talks."

We have all settled in the Tucson area. Uncle Enrico has a thriving business due to a little financial help getting started. Momma and my aunts are living life "grande."

I would like to believe that no innocent people suffered because of me, but I often think about that poor girl on the boat that night. I don’t know if she was a bad person or not. I was only with her for a few hours. Maybe she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but in her death, I was reborn. I used her ID cards to get us bus tickets all the way to Arizona. Her death lifted the cartel’s search for me. I buried her purse, her ID cards, and her memory in a beautiful spot in the desert.

Her name was Maria.



End.

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