Hours passed, and the thin beams of light faded away, but he continued to work with the improvised knife. Blood oozed from both hands and covered his shirt front where he wiped the slickness from them to dig again and again.
Adan didn’t notice at first when he punched through because of the darkness outside. It was only a small breath of cool night air that came through the hole and caressed his cheeks and forehead.
Lying on his stomach, Adan put his face down on the hole and breathed cool, sweet air for the first time in what seemed like forever.
Moving his face from the hole, he dug again with renewed strength, and although his energy did not last long, he widened the hole so that his nose, mouth and chin went through to the outside night air. Bodies behind him made unusual noises as the gasses built in them, and he felt goose bumps on his arms from it. Digging again made his hands bleed and ache, so he picked up the dead man’s discarded shirt and wrapped the head of the spike in it to make the iron less rough on his palms. Adan worked himself to exhaustion, and while lying on his stomach with his face in the hole, fell asleep.
During the night hours before first morning light, a half-grown coyote walked by the railroad car and smelled death inside. He sniffed, and found the human’s face sticking from the hole. This one was alive, but not by much. The coyote considered licking and nibbling at the exposed face, the soft lips, but was too put off by the human smell. It studied the young human for several minutes, then loped away into the night to find some mice or rats, or even a rabbit if it was lucky.
The sky became a dull gray as morning began, and as first true light cracked the horizon, the day animals stirred. The sun rose in a cloudless sky and as the heat climbed, the yellow disk became faded brass as the temperature topped one hundred before eleven AM. Adan did not move. He lay face down, and was beyond sleep. He had drifted deeper. Adan was unconscious.
**
Hunter and Raymond returned to the same area the next morning, and worked until noon looking for sign along the river before moving into the hills and looking for other walkers.
Raymond said, “It’s like looking on Mars for tracks. Nothing here.”
Hunter said, “There’s not even much old sign.” The AC wasn’t keeping up because they rode with the windows down to better look for tracks. She wiped the grime and sweat from under her hat and her forehead, “Let’s check one more place. I haven’t checked it in six months.”
“Ok. After that, let’s get something in town that’s cold.”
Hunter nodded and turned on an old road leading into the dry hills north and west of Terlingua.
At two PM, Raymond said, “Hold it!” Hunter stopped, then backed until her partner said, “Right there. We’ve got vehicle tracks coming out of the gate up this hill.”
“No other traffic?”
“Nope.” He examined the vehicle tracks a moment before saying, “Pull up to that old gate up there. Let’s look for foot traffic, see who opened and closed it.”
Hunter turned the wheel and they drove on the side of the road so as not to wipe out any sign. It was rough, and many rocks under the wheels bounced the two Agents hard against their seatbelts when they parked on the side of the road. Both of them exited the Suburban.
“Look here,” Raymond said. “These look familiar.”
Hunter walked to him and looked at the footprints in the caliche dust. She pulled out her phone, scanned through the photos and enlarged one, then held it down by the track. “Same, exactly.”
“Who is it?”
“That guy, RL, from out at the Hart ranch.”
Raymond walked to the gate and played with the lock using an old set of lock picks, “Oops, this is open.”
“How about that?”
Raymond swung open the gate and Hunter drove through. Raymond hooked the gate closed behind the vehicle but didn’t close the lock. The road ran for several hundred yards into the hills, and ended at the boxcar. “Let’s check it out,” Raymond said.
Hunter noticed the quietness around the railroad car, enough to make her feel uneasy. She walked to the door and worked out the latch pin, then pushed it to the side on its rails.
Four bodies lay close together. Hunter hissed, “Damn.”
Raymond joined her and they looked at the scene, not talking for a minute. The smell of decomposition was faint, but filled the rail car’s interior. Raymond said, “Want to give me a lift up?”
“No, I’ll go.’ She pushed with her palms on the bottom of the opening and swung one leg to the side like an Olympian on a pommel horse, hooking her foot on the edge of the floor and pushing up so the other leg’s knee also came down on the rail car’s wooden floor. She stood, catching the flashlight Raymond tossed her, even though morning light filled the interior. She moved among the bodies and noticed a smaller fifth body, male, against the back wall near the corner. He was face down and not moving, but something made Hunter lean down and check him. His back was warm, and she felt the slightest rise and fall of breathing.
“We’ve got a live one, Raymond. Call the EMS, and better call Carlo, too.” She knelt by the boy and gently turned him so he was face up. Hunter felt a flush go through her when she saw his face. “It’s Adan.”
“What the hell?”
She touched Adan’s forehead, “He’s burning up. Can you bring the water?”