The Adventurers (15 page)

When we turned the next curve in the road I could see houses and smoke coming from some of the chimneys, so I pulled Amparo off the road into the field. "We have to go around the town."

She nodded, and we struck out across the fields. It took longer that way and it was nearly night by the time the village was behind us.

"I'm hungry," Amparo complained. "Fatback doesn't fill my stomach."

"We'll have something to eat tonight."

I had spotted a couple of chicken coops and as soon as I found a good place to camp for the night I was going back. I found a place soon enough but Amparo refused to stay by herself.

It was black as pitch as we settled down in a field near the chicken coops. They were out back of a house so we had to wait until I was sure everyone had gone to sleep.

"Wait here. Don't move!" I cautioned Amparo.

I didn't wait for an answer. I sped across the ground on silent feet, taking out my knife as I lifted the latch on the nearest coop.

Almost immediately the chickens set up a racket that could be heard forty miles away. One big red hen ran at me, and I flat-edged her with my knife. I slashed at another but missed, then caught a white pullet as she went by. Quickly I sheathed my knife, grabbed the chickens by their legs, and ran back across the field with their bodies still jerking in my hand. I dove down beside Amparo just as the farmer came out of the house, his nightshirt flapping. He was carrying a rifle and when he saw the open coop he ran to shut it. Then he came running over to the edge of the field near us.

"What is it?" a woman's voice called from inside the house.

"That damn weasel's been at the chickens again! Some night I'm gonna get him!"

He stood there a moment longer, and then went angrily stamping back to the chicken coop. He unlatched the door and went in.

I touched Amparo's arm and gestured for us to leave. The minute he found two hen heads in the coop he'd know that it was no weasel that had raided his flock. We ran all the way back to our hideout, and suddenly we weren't tired any more. Even Amparo was laughing and happy as the chickens dangled over the fire, the lice jumping crazily from their feathers to keep from being incinerated.

CHAPTER 19

The days became nights and the nights turned into days and we had lost all track of time when finally we came down the last of the range of hills into the desert. Vaguely I thought it had been about three weeks since we had left the hideout but I could not be sure.

It was about two in the afternoon as we stood there looking across the desert to the next range of hills beyond which lies the green and fertile valley around Estanza. I could see a few wagons on the road, so I knew that we dared not cross by daylight. We would be too easily seen, since there was no place to hide in all that flat hot sand.

I tried to calculate the distance with my eyes. It had taken Fat Cat and me three hours to cross it with the wagon. That would mean about twenty miles. By walking all night we should be able to make it. I turned to Amparo.

Her face was deeply tanned by the sun and her blond hair bleached almost white; her brows and lashes were pale and practically invisible against her dark skin. Her cheeks were thin and drawn and I could see the fine ridges of her bones beneath the flesh and the weariness that pulled down the corners of her mouth. I pulled a chicken bone from my pocket. She put it in her mouth and sucked it gently, letting her saliva soften and moisten it before she chewed. Amparo, too, had learned a lot in these last few weeks.

Several times a day we had had to leave the road and hide. More than once we had nearly bumped into patrols of soldiers but we had developed a sixth sense that warned us when danger was near. I looked out across the desert again. "We'll have to cross it at night. We'll find a place to rest until dark."

Amparo nodded. She knew why without my having to explain. "Have we anything left to eat?" she asked, still sucking on the bone.

"No."

I looked around. This wasn't game country. There were few trees, only scrub brush that seemed to grow only in the desert. That meant there probably wasn't much water either. "But we're not far from Estanza," I said. "There'll be plenty to eat and drink there."

She nodded silently. I watched her look down at the moving wagons along the road. "Do they all hate us? Do they all want to kill us?"

I was surprised by her question. "I don't know."

"Then why do we have to hide all the time?"

"Because we don't know how they feel about us."

She was silent for a moment. "Mama is dead," she said suddenly, "and so are the others. Roberto and Eduardo, too. That's why we can't go back, isn't it?"

I didn't answer.

"You can tell me," she said quietly, "I won't cry."

I nodded.

She stared into my eyes. "Is Papa dead too?"

"No."

She turned away and looked out at the desert. For a long time she stood there silently. Then she turned back to me. "If Papa is dead," she asked, "will you marry me and take care of me?"

I stared at her. She looked so skinny and helpless standing there. Like Perro used to look when he wasn't quite sure I would give him a bone. I reached for her hand. It felt warm and trusting in mine. "You know I will. We settled that a long time ago."

She smiled. "Do you have another bone?"

I took the last one and gave it to her. She stuck it in her mouth and began to chew on it. "Come on," I said. "Let's find some shade and try to sleep."

The wind came up later that night as we started down the road to cross the desert. We shivered as its chill struck us. I looked at Amparo. "You all right?"

She nodded and pulled the shirt closer around her and lowered her head into the wind.

"Wait," I said, and unrolled the blanket and cut it down the middle with my knife. After tonight we wouldn't need it any more. We would be at Senor Moncada's farm. "Here, use it like a ruana."

She wrapped her half around her and I did the same. The wind seemed to be getting stronger. Occasionally it would lift the sand and fling it up in our faces and soon our eyes were stinging. The skin on our faces became raw and chafed, and after we had been walking a few hours even the hard-packed surface of the road was covered with a fine layer of sand.

Several times we stumbled off the road and sank in sand to our ankles. The wind was so fierce now it was hard to see where we were going. I tried to look up at the stars to get my bearings, but even they were obscured. More than once we found ourselves floundering and had to fight our way back to the road.

"I can't see," Amparo cried. "The sand is blowing in my eyes."

"Make a hood." I pulled the blanket up over her head and made a peak with just a narrow opening in the front to see out of it. "Better?"

"Yes."

I did the same and it worked. We moved off again but before we knew it we were off the road again. It seemed like an hour before we stumbled onto it once more.

"I can't walk any more, Dax," Amparo sobbed. "My shoes are filled with sand."

I made her sit down, and I emptied her shoes. Then I pulled her to her feet. "It's only a little way farther."

We struggled on. My throat felt raw and dry. I could feel a rattling in my chest. Suddenly the sky seemed to lighten. One moment it was a faint gray, then the sun popped over the mountains behind us. I stared at it incredulously. It was coming up in the west.

Suddenly I realized what had happened. Sometime in the night we had turned around and begun to backtrack. Now we were caught in the middle of the desert in broad daylight. I turned and looked down the road toward Estanza. There was a wagon coming in the distance.

I took Amparo's hand and we ran off the road. Everything was flat; there was no real cover. I told her to lie down and I stretched out beside her. I pulled our ruanas up over our heads. Perhaps they would look enough like the sand to fool anyone passing by.

I heard the creaking rumble of the wheels of the wagon. I raised a tip of the blanket and peeked out. The wagon had gone by. I was already up on one knee when I saw another down the road. Quickly I fell to the ground again. “What is it?" "Another one."

The sun was beginning to bake the sand. The heat rose up all around us. "There's nothing we can do," I said. "We'll just have to wait for the night. There are too many people on the road."

"I'm thirsty," Amparo said.

"Lie still; try not to think about it."

I could feel the sweat running down my back and between my legs. I licked my lips. They were dry and salty. I lifted the blanket. The road seemed clear in both directions as far as my eye could see.

"All right," I said, "let's walk for a while. Put your ruana up again. It will keep off the sun."

The heat shimmering off the road formed wavy patterns before our eyes. My feet began to burn.

"I'm thirsty, Dax."

"We'll walk a little more," I said, "then we'll stop and rest."

We managed to go on for another half-hour. The sand was so hot now that when we stretched out on it we could scarcely bear it. My tongue felt dry and swollen. I made the saliva run in my mouth for a moment but as quickly it seemed to dry up.

"It hurts, Dax." Amparo began to cry. "My mouth hurts."

She was sobbing quietly. Her shoulders were shaking. I knew she would have to wet her lips somehow. I took out my knife and cut the edge of my finger. The blood suddenly welled up.

"Damn!"

"What did you do?" Amparo asked.

I held up my finger. "I cut myself." I pushed my finger toward her. "Suck it."

She put my finger in her mouth and sucked. After a moment she looked up. "There, is it all right?"

I looked at my finger. I squeezed it, forcing the blood to well up again. "Better do it once more to make sure."

She sucked again. This time when I held up my finger the edge of the cut was white. "It's all right now."

"Good" She lifted the blanket and looked out. "It's starting to get dark."

She was right. The day had almost gone, and night was coming. I could feel the heat beginning to leave the sand. I got up on my knees. I looked down the road that cut through the pass between the mountains. On the other side lay Estanza. "If we walk all night, we could be there by morning."

Amparo looked up at me. "Can't we get a drink of water?"

"There's none between here and Estanza."

She went over to the side of the road and sat down. "I'm tired."

"I know, Amparo." I covered her with my ruana. "Try to sleep a little. Tomorrow everything will be all right."

She lay back and closed her eyes. In a moment she was asleep. I tried to, too, but there was a peculiar ache in me that wouldn't let me. No matter how I turned I seemed to hurt. I let Amparo sleep for about two hours.

It was about an hour after sunup when we finally reached Senor Moncada's farm. Several horses were tethered out in front but I saw nobody. I gestured to Amparo to be quiet as we went around to the back.

There was smoke coming from the kitchen chimney. It was so strong in my nostrils that I could feel myself growing dizzy with hunger. We crossed the back yard to the kitchen door. Still holding Amparo's hand, I opened it.

It was dark and I couldn't see until my eyes adjusted, then I heard a woman scream and my vision suddenly cleared. A cook was standing near the stove, and three men were sitting at the kitchen table, two of them facing me. A third had his back to me. The red and blue of their uniforms suddenly registered.

I turned, pushing Amparo toward the door. "Run!"

She took off like a rabbit across the yard. I started after her. I heard a yell behind me and when I looked over my shoulder I tripped over a log and fell. As I scrambled up a soldier ran past me.

"Run, Amparo, run!" I screamed. "Run!"

Another soldier came up to me. I turned to face him, pulling my knife. I began to feel dizzy. Exhaustion and the long night had taken their toll. Then I saw clearly his face, and suddenly nothing remained in me but a burning rage and hatred. I felt the desire to kill rise in my throat. "Fat Cat!" I screamed, and I launched myself at him, my knife outstretched.

He had sold us out. That was why the soldiers had been able to raid our hideout. It was because of him that so many had been killed, and all for a lousy black stallion.

As I slashed upward with the knife I heard Amparo scream. I turned and saw that a soldier had caught her. He was pulling her back toward us, kicking and screaming. I began to feel dizzy again.

I turned back to Fat Cat. He was staring at me, his face white. "Dax!"

I screamed hysterically. "Dax! I'm not dead like the others! I'll kill you! I will cut off your cojones and stuff them down your lying throat!"

"No, Dax. No!"

"Traitor!" I took another step toward him but there was something wrong with the ground. It was rolling like the sea at Curatu, where I had once gone with my father. "Traitor!" I screamed again. "Dax!"

But this was another voice. One I had never forgotten, though I hadn't heard it for more than two years. I looked past Fat Cat toward the kitchen door, where my father was standing. But there was something wrong. I thought I was going out of my mind. My father also was wearing an army uniform.

"Papa!" I cried. I took a step toward him, then I remembered Fat Cat and rage once more shook me. I turned and screamed, "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

I cocked my arm to throw the knife at his throat, but the sun blinded my eyes. I blinked for a moment, and suddenly everything began to fade. The knife slipped through my fingers. I felt myself falling to the ground, and then a pair of arms caught me.

The darkness started to come again arid I remember thinking: how can it be night when it has just become morning?

Then out of this darkness came my father's voice. There was love in it. Pain. And sorrow too.

"My son," he said softly "My son, what have I done to you?"

And then mercifully the night came and covered me.

CHAPTER 20