“True or not, after hearing your story I’ll be careful.”
Dario pointed ahead, “On that flat-topped hill we can stop and rest in the shade of the rocks.” They walked another hour before reaching it, with both youths knowing distances were deceptive in the clear desert air.
While they sat and talked, two men in camo watched them with binoculars from across the canyon, a little ahead of their position. One, whose name was Ben Zambrano, said, “They’re kids, way out here on foot. That’s not right.”
His partner with the large scar on his cheek, Anselmo Ancira said, “I’ve ranged them already. Six-hundred-twenty yards. It’s a doable shot, you want.” He patted the scoped Remington rifle beside him.
“Then we have to drag them away and bury them. Lot of work when we don’t know what they’re doing here.”
“So, we catch them, take them in?”
“I think so.”
Anselmo looked at the two youths and their position on the small hill in the middle of desert terrain dotted with cactus and spidery ocotillo showing the red blossoms at the tips because of recent rains. “That small bend in the canyon. I think they’ll go down in the bottom and make that turn. We can catch them there.”
Ben looked it over, “Looks like that canyon we set up on over in Tora Bora.”
“It does. Smoked ‘em that day, didn’t we?”
“Roger that.” They watched as the two boys started to angle down into the canyon floor.
“Told ya.”
“Let’s go.”
Chapter 3
The two camouflaged men moved along a narrow ravine that angled down to the canyon floor and would keep them hidden from the two boys. The best thing about the ravine was that it ended on the smooth canyon floor not thirty feet from the bend where the boys would pass. It took no time for the men to hide themselves among the large boulders. They had to wait for a minute, and then Dario and Adan walked into view.
One boy seemed startled, the other one stepped toward the two armed men. Ben said, “You’re on private property, you’re tresp
assing.”
The boy who stepped forward, Adan, said, “We are going to the great white house out this way. I have heard much about it.”
Anselmo grinned and said to Ben, “You hear that? He’s heard much about it.”
Ben said, “What’s your name, kid?”
“I am Adan Villa.”
Ben said, “Well now, señor Villa, the people in the white house don’t want any Mexicans there.”
Anselmo said, “You two just head back the way you came.”
“But I need to talk–”
Ben hit him in the face with the stock of the rifle, knocking Adan to the ground and opening a one-inch gash in his cheek that showed wet and red. “You don’t need anything except to get the hell off this property, entiendes? You understand?”
Dario nodded, his eyes big and frightened. He helped lift Adan from the ground and they walked away, with Adan staggering every few steps.
As they disappeared around the bend, Anselmo said, “You believe that bullshit?”
Ben shook his head and spat, “We know why they’re here, and it ain’t because of a desire to see the home.” He thought a moment, remembering Adan’s face and those dark brown eyes, which made him doubt his initial thoughts. He said, “You don’t think he’s a relative, do you?”
“Just out of the blue, walking across the desert? Nah.” He glanced at Ben, “You think?”
Adan held his palm against the cut because it was the only thing he had. Dario looked pale as he walked close, keeping a hand on Adan’s elbow in case his new friend fell again. He said, “That scared me, him hitting you like that. How do you feel?”