Betrayed (46 page)

At first she thought it was only that faint echo of her own voice. But she fell silent, bruised fists dropping to her sides. No, there it was. Just a whisper of wind that had sounded almost human through the air vent above her.

She’d raised her boot to renew her assault when it came again. Still soft, this time it was as clear as though broadcast from an intercom.

“Señorita Vee-kee?”

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Cesar!” Vicki threw herself across the safe room, pounding her fists against the back of the fireplace, but the pain of her bruises forced her to stop.

Cesar’s voice came again, cautious but louder. “Señorita Vee-kee, are you in the chimney?”

Vicki almost smiled at the image. She understood how she’d heard him. He’d been close enough to the fireplace that his voice had carried up the chimney and through the air vent. Now he must be kneeling on the hearth itself.

“No, I’m in a room behind the fireplace,” Vicki called up to the vent. “I’m locked in. Come into the office. The door—the wall—is behind a shelf of pottery. On this side there’s a push button to open it, so look for any kind of button or lock on the pottery shelf.”

Vicki could appreciate the soundproof quality of these walls because though she knew Cesar must have gone to the office, she heard no sound until a thump clanged against the pottery-shelf wall. She thumped back and called, but Cesar’s voice was too muffled to understand. Then there was silence. Vicki waited impatiently, sore hands twisting around each other.

When Cesar spoke, it was through the air vent again. “I found the mechanism of which you speak, but the button does not work. There are numbers like a calculator so I think some kind of combination is required.”

Vicki sat wearily against the edge of the table. If she’d spotted that earlier, she’d have known Joe couldn’t have been in here without Bill’s cooperation. Now what?

“I will be back!”

That brought Vicki to her feet. “No, Cesar, don’t leave me here!” She bit her lip at the selfish childishness of that cry. There was no answer. He’d gone then.

Vicki sank into the chair. At least Cesar would be safe, and he must have been successful in his original mission. Perhaps he’d be successful too where Vicki had failed and find some means of communicating their plight—and the village’s—with the outside world.

But a moment later Cesar’s voice floated through the air vent. “Stand away from the wall. I’m going to break it in.”

Vicki heard crashing sounds from the office side. Cesar must be breaking every piece of pottery on the shelf. Then the wall began to shake.

Oh, please, please!
Vicki prayed, eyes glued to the doorjamb. Surely even an ax couldn’t cut through solid metal.

It didn’t have to. Chips of plaster and paint showered Vicki as the wall popped outward. Cesar stepped around it, crowbar in hand.

Relieved tears would be a distraction right now, so Vicki fought them back as she said shakily, “Cesar, I can’t believe you’re here! God really did step in Himself to rescue me!”

At his mystified look, Vicki leaned forward impulsively to kiss him on the cheek. “Never mind. I’ll explain it later. Let’s just get out of here.”

A kiss on the cheek was a common greeting among the Spanish upper classes but not the Mayans, who had an indigenous reticence about casual touching between sexes, Cesar included. Something Vicki, also reticent about her personal space, had appreciated and been careful to respect. But her gesture drew a rare smile from him, and he nodded. “
Sí
, I think you are right that it was God who sent me. Come!”

Vicki threw her canteen, food, and Holly’s PDA into her knapsack and followed Cesar out of the safe room. The outer office was in shambles as she’d envisioned, and she could see behind shards of pottery a control panel with number pad and button, now smashed in.

Before they left the living room, Cesar stopped. “You can’t go out like that. You will be noticed. One moment.” He added to his demolition job by snatching some of Bill’s
típica
collection from the walls and sofa.

Grasping what he had in mind, Vicki tugged an embroidered
huipil
over her head. It was big enough to fit loosely over her shirt. Cesar added a length of red weave around her waist. This was too short for a proper skirt, revealing Vicki’s cargo pants from calf to ankle, but that only allowed more freedom to walk, and Cesar bound it in place with a few wraps of a long sash.

A wall shelf held one of the halolike knottings of homespun and tassels Mayan women wore as a headdress, but Vicki knew better than to try to balance that on her head. Instead, she tied a smaller red cloth over her hair like a bandanna while Cesar tied her knapsack into a striped carrying cloth. Pulling the ends of this over one shoulder and under an armpit, Vicki knotted it in front the way a peasant woman carried a bundle or a baby.

The whole thing had taken only a minute, and at least from a distance they’d appear as any humble peasant couple. Vicki felt not the slightest compunction at raiding Bill’s collection. The way she felt right now, if it weren’t for the flame-retardant construction of brick and tile, she’d look for a box of matches and torch the place like that thatched church last night.

“How did you find me here? What’s happened to the village?”

“Wait!” Cesar cautioned Vicki to silence as he inched open the back door. If there’d still been a house guard, they couldn’t have made the fifty meters to the coffee bushes, since a Mayan couple emerging from the patron’s house would rouse as much suspicion as a fugitive American. But as Joe had told Bill, the veranda guard was gone.

Vicki waited until they’d reached the cover of the coffee rows before demanding again, “So tell me—what made you come back? Did you make it to the village? What is happening with your people?”

Cesar didn’t slow his rapid stride as he answered over his shoulder. “I reached the village, but it is filled with soldiers. They are looking for you—for us.
Tía
Maria had already gone to work, but the pastor and elders were at the church removing the burnt wood. They will wait for the search to end before leading the people out. I do not think
los narcotraficantes
will come before dark because of the market bus that comes every day. They will not wish for outside witnesses. Or so we must hope.

“I started then to the center to find
Tía
Maria. That is when I saw
el vehículo
of Señor Taylor go by with his gringo
ayudante
and other men. You weren’t with them, so I thought perhaps you had returned to the center. But I found only
Tía
Maria there with Alicia and Gabriela. Rosario and Beatriz had already left to the bus to meet the new volunteers.
Tía
Maria had not seen you. I told her to take the girls into the sierra.

“Then I came here because I was concerned that something had befallen you. I came around back through the coffee
finca
because of the guard. But he was not there, and though the back door was locked, it was not difficult to break.”

Proving Bill’s wisdom in building that safe room!

“The house appeared empty, but when I heard your pounding, I knew you must be there though I could not see you. Now perhaps you will tell me why Señor Taylor left you so.”

“Because he’s in league with
los narcotraficantes
,” Vicki answered bitterly.

Cesar stopped so suddenly Vicki stepped on his heels. He swung around in the middle of the coffee bushes with as much incredulous dismay on his face as Vicki had felt. “But—Señor Taylor has been a good man and a good patron to Verapaz for many years.”

“He was
el americano
who took us from the village when my parents and your mother were killed.”

Cesar shook his head as Vicki gave a synopsis of Bill’s admissions.

“What shall we do now? Search out your other American friend? But he is a
colega
of Coronel Alpiro.”

“I know. We can’t go near the base. I’ve been thinking. I left my bike on the ridge, but if I could stop at the center to get another one, if I can just get to Alison without anyone seeing me, make her understand what’s happened, then maybe she can get through to her embassy, and I could get down the mountain on the charter bus. If we can get help today before they clear all the evidence away, get the embassies and media involved and—well, there’s got to be some honest police and army who could be called in—then the villagers wouldn’t even have to leave.”

The heavy homespun flapped against Vicki’s cargo pants as she started walking again. “But we’d better hurry before the soldiers decide to search the center too.”

“It is too late for that. One of the army trucks was already coming down the road as I left. That is why I told
Tía
Maria to leave with the girls.”

“Oh no!” Vicki stopped. “It would take forever to reach the bus on foot, especially without being seen. We’d never make it before the team leaves there—or that charter bus.”

“I have already thought of that.” Beckoning Vicki to follow, Cesar started walking.

A few minutes later, they reached the center boundary of tall trees and vegetation. Through it Vicki could hear a diesel engine and raised voices.

Before her anxiety level could rise, Cesar picked up a mountain bike from against an oak tree. “You will have to ride with me. There is a path that will take us to the village unseen.”

The mountain bike was not designed for double occupancy, but Vicki had seen poorer Guatemalans balance an entire family on a bike,, and neither she nor Cesar were large adults. Hiking up her skirt to slide onto the seat behind Cesar, she wrapped her arms around his waist.

He took the trail with reasonable caution until they intersected the long, winding gravel driveway connecting Bill’s plantation with the center. Vicki caught no glimpse of buildings or soldiers as Cesar peddled across, though she could still hear the latter. Then they were back in the underbrush, and Cesar picked up speed. Vicki burrowed her head against his back, realizing with chagrin just how much faster he could have gone without her that morning.

At first the trek was at least reasonably level. Then a zigzag distinctly downhill forced Vicki’s eyes open. All of Lake Izabal was spread out beyond her while to her left the steep slope dropped away for hundreds of meters. At least Cesar had slowed to negotiate the treacherous descent. Clutching him tighter, Vicki shouted into his ear, “Where are we going? Verapaz is the other way.”

“There is too much cleared land and people up there. This is better,” Cesar called back.

Shutting her eyes again, she held on tight and prayed. Any moment a swerve or rock in the path was bound to send them over that terrible drop-off.

But it wasn’t long before Vicki felt the G-force of a zigzag ascent. When she felt level ground again, she raised her head and opened her eyes to see fruit trees, banana palms, and corn patches.