Flee (9 page)

****

School was tortuous. Four hours of solid sleep, BearBear soft in my arms, had not been enough. I arrived groggy and grumpy, at least until I spotted Mateo in the plaza and realized he'd been waiting for me. We didn't have first period together, so he walked me to the door and left me with a smile. That's when the torture began. I was both exhausted and keyed up, like I had taken too much cold medicine, and it had made me both drowsy and restless. At the end of class, I wasn't even sure what we'd talked about. My notes were full of doodles.

Second period was better. I sat by Mateo, still restless but happy. I drew doodles again all over my paper. My legs were crossed, the fidgety heel of my bottom leg bouncing rapidly up and down, shaking my whole body. Mateo chuckled and put his hand on my knee, gently restraining it. This forced my pent-up energy into my fingers, and I began drumming them across my desk. Mateo laughed again and moved his hand from my knee to my hand, holding it firmly. I began to tap my foot again.

Lost cause
? He wrote on the corner of his paper, turning it so I could see. I nodded. He smiled but didn't release my hand. I was thankful that Malcolm Miller, who sat in front of us, was over six feet tall. PDA was frowned upon at school, but I didn't want Mateo to have to let my hand go. Third period we had together again. I was calmer now, but as my restlessness faded, fatigue took over. Mateo had to nudge me three times to keep me from falling asleep. He again wrote on the corner of his paper. This time it said
I
told you to stay home and sleep
. And he had, in a text that I completely ignored. I think I did fall asleep in fourth period. Thankfully, it was study hall and no one bothered me. But Mateo was not in study hall with me, and my restlessness had returned. I slept in short increments, startling awake every minute or two. When the bell rang for lunch, I was exhausted. Mateo approached my locker, books in hand, and took one look at me and raised an eyebrow.

“I know. I need to go home and sleep. I just don't know if I can. I, uh, would rather just stay with you.”

He looked at me for a minute and then grabbed my hand. “I have an idea.”

I followed him down the hall, trotting to keep up with his pace. He stopped in front of the Spanish classroom, released my hand and jogged in, returning seconds later with the Mexican blanket that usually sat folded on the bookshelf. He grabbed my hand again, and went out the back exit, behind the school, and over to the towering oak tree at the back of the property. I watched in silence as he spread the blanket in the shade and plopped down on it, his back against the tree trunk.

“Come. Nap.” Mateo held up his hand and I took it, allowing him to pull me down and settle with my head in his lap, my legs curled up next to him. It was heavenly.

“What about your lunch?” I murmured, already feeling sleep closing in.

“I have a protein bar in my locker. I'll be fine. Now sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to go in.”

Closing my eyes, I was immediately engulfed in a memory of my mom, cuddled with me on my bed last summer, talking about how she'd met Dad. I had asked her how she knew he was the one and had been so frustrated by her simple
“Oh, I just did. And you will too.”

I get it now, Mom. I know
. Missing her, I reached for and clasped Mateo's hand. He squeezed mine and peace settled on my soul like a soft, warm blanket as I drifted to sleep.

Mateo

No
, I thought to myself,
leave me alone
. That sounded rude, so I added a
please
to my silent speech. Wait, what was I protesting? The pressure on my shoulder returned, again gently shaking me. Oh yeah, that. Someone wanted me to wake up. Well, too bad. No, that wasn't right. It could be important. I willed my subconscious to be more alert, trying to shake off the sleep that had me deep in its hold.

“Mateo!” The urgent whisper had the same effect as ice water poured on my head. I sat up immediately, blinking to see where he was.

“Hector, what is it?” He stood beside my bed, looking both apologetic and serious. The alarm clock reflecting on my ceiling read 3:30.

“The security team picked up some activity at the northeast corner of the property.”

“How long? What kind of activity?” I was up now, pulling on the jeans and t-shirt I had carelessly left on my floor the night before, running through escape scenarios in my head if we needed them. My training was taking over.

“Forty-five minutes ago. Doodles began barking and wouldn't stop.” He laughed, although the sound was a bit harsh. I knew he was picturing my dad's well-trained German shepherds at home. Doodles was no guard dog. If someone broke in, he would probably just lick them and bring them his ball to throw. But at least he barked at strangers and sounds. “The security team was already there when I arrived. I think you should see what they found.”

“Mom?”

“Still asleep. I have her double-teamed right now.”

I nodded. She should be safe. The security team I had hired and that Hector had approved were not to be found in any yellow pages. They were all ex-military, mostly special-ops. Well-trained for this sort of job, thanks to the U.S military. I chuckled at the irony. Five years ago some of these same men could have been tracking my families' operations in Mexico and parts of the states. Now they were taking a sizable monthly chunk out of our bank account.
What do you think of that, Dad?

I had my shoes on now and was following Hector silently through the dark house. I nodded at the guard in front of Mom's bedroom door. There would be another one outside the French doors that led from her bedroom to the extensive back patio. We passed the kitchen on the way to the back doors, and I could see Doodles in his crate now, awake but silent as he watched us. Hector paused before he opened the door, reaching into his boot and then straightening.

He extended his arm toward me, and I shook my head no at the offered gun. I knew how to handle one, of course. We all did, but I was not comfortable with the idea of aiming it at a live target.

“Your martial arts and boxing skills would serve you decently in a hand-to-hand situation, but they won't stop a bullet,” Hector said, still holding out the weapon.

“No, that's your job,” I replied, smiling.

He sighed and replaced the weapon, drawing a larger one from the belt at his waist. He opened the door and walked out, and I followed him. A guard named Foster joined us on the covered outdoor living space.

“Sorry to awaken you, Mr. Reyna, but we thought you should see this.” He turned and we followed, walking past the pool and toward the drop-off in the northeast corner. There was a small trail here that led down to a back gate. It was steep and not often used, but it was a shortcut to the lake for the hardy hiker. We descended it now, carefully and quietly, stopping when we arrived at the large secure gate. The gate was wired to the security system of the house, opening only after the correct code was entered into the hidden panel beside it. The fence connected to it, which, thanks to the slope, wound unseen around the entire northern perimeter of the property, was topped with a big roll of barbed wire. It wasn't pretty down here. It looked like the edge of a prison yard.

Foster shone his flashlight slightly past the gate onto the grass beside the gravel trail that led into the trees in the direction of the water. The hissing noise I was hearing revealed itself to be a faulty sprinkler head, leaking water into the grass and dirt and gravel. In the middle of the wet dirt, close to the gate, there was a footprint, large and fresh. I made eye contact with Hector, worry evident on my face.

“Foster called in reinforcements.” He was speaking Spanish, but I knew Foster was fluent and could understand. “They arrived twenty minutes ago. There are four men up at the house, and three searching in these woods. Nothing's been found. The outside control panel has been dusted for prints; again nothing. We're lucky that sprinkler head is malfunctioning or we never would have had that print and would have assumed the dog was just howling at the moon.”

We both turned to look at Foster.

“I'll double the security at the house for now, sir,” Foster said. It felt odd to be referred to so formally by someone probably fifteen years older than me, but I was the one signing his substantial paycheck, and he was nothing if not polite. “I recommend that Hector accompany your mom whenever she leaves the house, and we'll also double the tail on her. You'll be tailed, too, at least as far as your school. We'll keep a small team there around the perimeter whenever you're on campus. I know the owner of the security company contracted by your school, so I'll get one of my men on that detail so we can have representation without unnecessary alarm to the administration.”

Hector nodded his approval of the plan, and Foster grinned. He must be glad that this well-paying but boring job was picking up steam.

“I'll accompany you back to the house and then return to this post to watch and wait for first light. We'll do a thorough search again in the daytime to make sure we haven't missed anything.”

“Thanks. Keep me informed of any new developments. And you don't need to walk us back up. Hector's capable.”

He nodded, removed his cell phone from his pocket, and pushed a silent button, whispering a command into it. I was sure a guard would be watching and waiting for us at the top of the hill.

Hector and I turned and began the climb. “What do you think?” I asked him quietly.

“I'm unsure. Could be reconnaissance. Could be a kidnapping or assassination team.” I shuddered, picturing Mom asleep and unaware in the house. I had brought her here to keep her safe. Had I just placed her in greater danger? “My hope is that it's someone your father or brother secretly sent to assess the property's vulnerabilities and ensure we're doing our job keeping things secure, but that's a small hope, Mateo. I'll contact Thomas first thing and find out what he knows.”

“Thank you, Hector. I'm glad you're here.”

“Me too,
mijo
. You're like a son to me in many ways. I didn't like being separated from you.”

****

We entered the house quietly, trailed by the guard Foster had summoned until we were safely inside. Further sleep was an impossibility.
Looks like I'd have plenty of time to make the surprise I had planned for Blake
, although I now questioned the wisdom of having her over. Hector moved to the coffeepot as I began removing ingredients from the refrigerator and pantry, checking the recipe I had placed earlier on the kitchen desk. This was the only real thing I knew how to make, and I didn't want to mess it up. He raised his eyebrows at me but didn't comment on my kitchen activities.

“So, you have your first American football game tonight?” Hector laughed. He was as amused at this turn of events as Mom was thrilled. “I wish I could fly your real
fútbol
team in to watch. Guess I'll just have to film it.”

“You wouldn't dare,” I replied, giving him my most intimidating look. It didn't work. He just smiled and mimicked recording me.

“I suppose that would contribute to your cover as my uncle,” I conceded. “Just promise to delete the footage afterward. I have a small role anyway. There won't be much to see.”

“No dice,” he said. “That footage will be gold. The best forward striker on the Baja peninsula, reduced to standing on the sidelines awaiting a few seconds of mostly obscure playing time. What's the world coming to?”

“Hey, kickers have their moments of glory. You might be surprised. At any rate, it's keeping me in shape for real
fútbol
season.”

Hector snorted. He knew the school's soccer team would not be up to the level of play we were used to. To him it was the equivalent of a pick-up soccer game at a nursery school.

“As if your primal desire to run wouldn't accomplish that. You were being scouted by the big boys, Mateo! No one in this country even knows who you are, what you can do.” He was frustrated.

I always thought Hector had missed his calling. He would have been a great soccer coach. “You know as well as I do that dad would have never allowed me to play professional soccer. The security risk was too great. Give it up, Hector. The glory days are over.”

Hector frowned, but remained silent. His musings had given me an idea, though. I would have to do some research, but maybe there was a way to showcase my abilities on the pitch for a college scout. If I could get a scholarship, then I was one step closer to independence from my father and the horrifying legacy of my family.

Hector seemed to be able to read my thoughts. “You know Thomas has taken over the responsibilities of seeing that you and your mother are provided for. As a matter of fact, he has pretty much taken over the financial operations of the business.”

I nodded. This made sense and was part of his plan. Before his accident, Thomas had been a promising finance and business student at a university in Mexico City.

“The money in the Texas account that you are living off of, as well as my paycheck, is coming entirely from profits made in the import/export business.”

I felt inner tension relax in me, as if a tightly wound spring had been released.
Thank you, Thomas
. I was incredibly grateful for his compassion and insight. It was especially good of him to run Hector's pay through the legitimate business. He knew I would want no association with profit gained from the trafficking of illegal drugs.

Hector moved quietly into the living room, gripping his mug of strong black coffee. He turned on the TV, volume so low I couldn't make it out, and then flipped through the Spanish-speaking stations before stopping on a news program.

I knew he was listening for more information on the De La Garzas. We would both breathe easier if the Mexican police revealed that Roberto De La Garza had been arrested.
Please let that be the case.

I placed my concoction in the oven, glancing around at the huge mess I had made. I was a little out of my comfort zone in the kitchen. My skills were limited to sandwiches, cereal, and this one specialty. After cleaning up the mess, I turned to head to the shower, waving the security guard at Mom's door away. She would be up in another hour, and they were under orders to remain as invisible as possible. Hector was in the house. We were safe for now.

I glanced at the clock, glad I had told Blake not to meet me at the track today. I wanted her to get a good night's sleep and eat several hearty meals before she ran again. She had agreed without giving me any trouble. I was understandably restless, more so than the steamy water of a shower could erase. An outside run for me was out of the question in the current circumstances. I would have to use the treadmill in the home gym. It hadn't been touched since installation, but it would have to do for now, poor substitute though it was. At least it would help pass the time until I could get to school.
Until I can get to Blake
.