90 Miles to Freedom (15 page)

Pello stood up straight, keeping his eyes on Collin, then snapped at his partner. “Arlo. Bring him to me!”

Arlo nodded once then turned and strode to the door. He stepped outside, leaving the door open behind him, and Collin felt a breath of rain-soaked breeze trickle through the warehouse. Arlo’s voice was muffled, but Collin could hear him speaking to a few men who were grunting something back.

All the time he was gone, Pello stood silently over Collin, his arms folded across his chest.

Then Arlo appeared in the doorway again. He traipsed slowly but purposefully toward Collin, his large hand locked tightly on the back of Joey’s neck. Joey’s hands were tied in front and he was stumbling, struggling to walk straight. His eyes were wide, and he kept trying to turn his head to talk to Arlo, who ignored him.

“
What’s going on?” Joey cried. Collin’s heart broke, hearing the bewilderment in his little brother’s voice. “Who are you? Where are you taking me? I haven’t done anything wrong. You have the wrong person!”

As Arlo and Joey came closer, Collin could see that Joey had been beaten as well. His lip was swollen and his nose was obviously broken. Tears mixed with fresh blood as it slowly streamed down the side of his face from a cut just above his eyebrow. Joey was badly hurt. How much torture had they put him through? How much could an innocent nineteen year old boy endure?

Collin fought to keep the rage out of his eyes. He wanted to pound Pello, beat him to a bloody pulp. Killing him would be even better. But he had to stay calm if he were going to get the three of them out alive.

These men could have guns. Probably did. In reality, they could easily have killed both Joey and Adelio by now, but they hadn’t. Maybe this was just a warning. Maybe they only wanted to scare them and would let them leave. That would be just fine with Collin. He would accept the warning and would never, ever do anything like this again. No more transporting. Lesson learned. All he wanted was to go home and forget about all of this.

Arlo gave Joey a hard shove towards Collin, taking Joey off guard so that he stumbled and rolled onto the ground. Joey tried to sit up, then collapsed again, looking up at Collin with liquid eyes. He didn’t say a word, but Collin saw both terror and relief in those familiar eyes. Joey was comforted to see Collin there. Collin would save him, take him away from this nightmare.

“
Collin!” Pello shouted, black eyes like onyx. “You have taken from us, and you must be punished. It’s time for you to learn your lesson. Arlo, if you please!”

Joey looked at Collin, confused, but Collin said nothing. Arlo nodded coolly at Pello then reached behind his back and withdrew a small pistol. He aimed the barrel straight at Adelio, who struggled desperately to get to his feet. Arlo pulled the trigger and Adelio fell to the ground, a bullet in his head. Adelio was dead.

“
NO!” Collin cried over Joey’s petrified screams. He reached for Adelio, his entire body on fire with shock. This couldn’t be happening. This was all too real. When he glanced at Joey, his little brother was staring at him, face slick with tears and blood.

Pello took the gun from Arlo, then pointed it at Collin. “So, my friend, as I said before, it is time for you to learn your lesson.” Pello’s aim immediately shifted towards Joey, and the gun went off. Joey grunted and curled instantly into a ball, grabbing desperately for Collin’s arm. Pello had shot him in the stomach.

Collin grabbed Joey and screamed at Pello, his breath coming in quick sobs. “Stop this! Stop this now! I haven’t transported anyone in a year! I quit a long time ago! Why? Why would you do this? Joey didn’t do anything to you!”

Joey hadn’t done anything wrong. Neither had Betty or George, but all of this was entirely Collin’s fault. Adelio lay dead beside him and somehow Collin was to blame for that as well.

Joey was all that he has left in this world, and he was bleeding heavily from his stomach, a dark puddle pooling in the dirt. Collin shook his head hard. Joey couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let him go.

Pello’s smile was calm and serene. As if he were doing nothing more than disciplining a stubborn child. “As I said before, you must learn your lesson. Your friend is dead, and your brother will not live long. This will be a very painful death, I’m afraid. You will stay here and watch your brother die, then I will come back to teach you your final lesson.”

Pello and Arlo turned and left the building. Collin held Joey as tightly as he could, and Joey whimpered in pain.

“
God it hurts,” Joey said through clenched teeth. His hand pressed hard over his stomach. “Am I going to die?”

Collin shook his head fiercely. “Not if I can help it, you’re not. Don’t even think that way, you hear me? Say it again and I’ll kick your ass!” Collin growled. He looked around the warehouse, seeking some kind of answer, then laid his brother gently onto the ground. “We need to get out of here. I need to get you to a doctor.” Fumbling as quickly as he could with his trembling fingers, Collin took off his button-down shirt, then yanked off his white tank and placed it on Joey’s stomach. “Here, hold this on the wound. Keep pressure on it.”

Collin got to his feet and studied the painted windows. Could they simply crawl out through one of them? Could it be that easy? But moving Joey would be difficult. Maybe Pello had felt safe leaving them alone because he’d known Collin would never leave Joey, and Joey was too badly off to go anywhere.

“
Come on Joey, we’re getting out of here,” Collin said, hoisting Joey to his feet. Joey groaned, doubled over in pain. He struggled to cling to Collin’s arm. “We have to go through the window, Joey. Do you think you can do it?”

“
No,” Joey said weakly. “I don’t think I can.”

But he had no choice. If they didn’t do something, they would both be dead very soon. “Well, suck it up. Sorry, but you’re going through the window. You can cry all you want but you’ll have to do that later. Right now we have to go home,” Collin said, then grinned briefly at Joey. “You know, I’ve often wanted to put you through a window. Now I finally get my chance.”

Joey gasped. “Stop,” he begged. “It hurts when I laugh.”

Chapter 27

Cuban Departure Day 5

The sun will rise whether I live or die. It does not care about me. It is going to be hot again today, but I have nothing left to sweat.

The sharks did not attack me. If they had tried I would not have been able to fight them.

I barely slept, only listened to the splashing of the water. I know the sharks were close, and I know there were many around me, but they did not attack. It was a good thing the moon did not light the water during the night because I did not want to see their fins. I kept very quiet.

I can barely move. I am too weak. My blistered, rashed skin tears itself open, then bleeds. My eyes are nearly swollen shut and I can taste blood in my mouth from my cracked lips. What is keeping me alive? Why am I still here?

I have no food or water. What I do have are many regrets.  Maybe I should never have left Cuba. I should have planned better and built a sturdier raft, more secure. I should have made sure I had shelter and brought more food.

The sea is endless around me, but I cannot drink the water that I float upon. This water takes me to freedom, but I cannot drink it or death will come to me even sooner. I do not want to die, but sometimes I wonder if it might be a relief.

The only thing I can do is dream of my family. That also hurts. I am too weak to cry. I just lie here, doing nothing.

*  *  *

Evening

Awareness comes and goes. I have been in and out of consciousness all day. My brain, which barely thinks anymore, tells me this is most likely a result of the combination of heat and being deprived of food and water.

I doubt I will make it through another night. I can barely hold onto the raft. If the sharks find me tonight, they will eat me. If another storm comes it will kill me. If I move my raft will fall apart. I do not move.

My family will wonder if I have already made it to America. My wife will be counting the days until I contact her. My son will be dreaming of a new life in America, one where he will eat and live in a strange new world of freedom.

If I die they will not hear from me, and they will think I deserted them. Or they will correctly fear the worst. Do they worry for me? Yes. I know they do. I am glad they do not know what I have been going through. I am glad they cannot see me. It would make them sad.

Will I find freedom or death? At this point, I would welcome either one. Whichever it is, I hope it comes swiftly.

I think it will be death. I am done counting the days. I do not have the strength left in me to fight for my freedom. My dream of America is slipping away. I only wanted a good life for my family. Was I asking too much? Was I wrong for wanting a better life for them? I thought I was doing the right thing.

I see now that I was being selfish.

My son will grow up without a father. He will not have me around to teach him to be a man. He will forget me. He will eventually marry and have his own family. I will never see my son or my grandchildren.

My wife and I will not grow old together as we always promised each other. I will never again hold her in my arms and tell her that I love her. She will not be allowed to marry again because they will not be able to find my body. She will be alone with the exception of my son. She will be sad and she will cry many tears. I hope she will forgive me.

The cool air is making me shiver again. Splashes in the water are getting closer, telling me the sharks are near. They have been following me and waiting for the perfect time to attack. They prey on the weak.

They nudge at my raft now, trying to find its weakness. It won’t take them long. It is barely holding together and it will be easy for their sharp teeth to tear it apart. They are right here, closer than I even imagined. If I wanted, I could reach out and touch them.

They will not relent tonight. They will take what they have come for, and that is me.

This will be a horrible way to die.

I never thought I would give up hope, but nothing can save me now. Dreams of a better life in America will never come true. It was all for nothing.

I cannot do this anymore.

Chapter 28

The small window stuck, jammed by years of disuse and peeling paint. Collin took a deep breath and leaned against it, jarring loose the adhesion. He grunted quietly with effort until he was able to finally open it, forcing it into as large a hole as possible. Warm wet air rushed in, bringing with it a terrible odor of rot. Rain continued to pour down, which was good. Its noise would keep the sounds of their escape to a minimum. The hot, stinky air and rain mixing together would create a low, thick fog that would help to hide them. There was very little light. What there was of it appeared to come from the front of the buildings and warehouses, beaming from well-spaced lamps and dissolving into the fog.

Collin quickly identified the source of the smell. Behind the warehouse sat a few dumpsters, overflowing with trash. The stench was overwhelming, enough to make Collin gag. Something moved, catching his eye, then another small movement to the side. Collin shuddered involuntarily. Rats. And from the look of it, a lot of rats. He looked more closely at the garbage and was able to make out the shapes of the vermin, swarming through the piles.

With tremendous effort and maneuvering, Collin was able to help Joey through the window, constantly worried that Pello and Arlo would return and discover them. Joey gritted his teeth against the pain, taking deep gulps of air that he held for thirty seconds then slowly released.