Certain Dark Things(77)

There were men walking around selling electric shocks, holding up their boxes with jumper cables. It was an attraction imported from up north, from Tijuana and Juárez, but it had caught on with the drunk patrons. A variant was called the Mexican roulette, which had four people passing the contraption around until one of them was zapped.

A mariachi asked them if they wanted a song for what must have been the third time and Bernardino waved him away. The vampire looked miserable, hunched over a glass of mezcal, a hat shadowing his face, but not bothering to take a sip. Domingo was nursing his second beer, too nervous to do much drinking. Atl, on the other hand, had downed three glasses of tequila.

Domingo thought they painted quite the picture: a surly old hunchback in black; a young, bright-eyed woman with her arm in a sling; a teenager in a fancy vest. Though, to be fair, everyone was too drunk to pay them much attention.

“I don’t quite believe it,” Elisa said as she approached their table, a backpack slung over her shoulder and a dainty purse dangling from her right arm. “Bernardino. Here. Aren’t you averse to people and noise … and, well, everything?”

“I would have preferred that we met at a different place, but yes, here,” he replied.

Elisa took off her coat. “I didn’t think you’d get involved in this.”

“Well, I am.”

“What happened to your arm?” Elisa asked, looking at Atl.

“An accident,” she replied.

Elisa pulled up a chair and sat down. She placed the backpack on the table. Atl unzipped it and found a large envelope.

“ID cards. Health cards. Passports,” Atl said, taking each item out. Atl grabbed one of the ID cards and looked at it, then opened the passport. “They look legit.”

“They’ll work,” Elisa said.

“What about the ride? When can you drive us out?” Atl asked, holding up one of the cards, examining it more closely.

Elisa hesitated, sliding her hand across her wrist. “There’s a problem with that.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m not driving you anywhere.”

“That’s not possible,” Atl said, placing the documents on the table.

“I’m not sure if you know this, but the city is going wild,” Elisa told them. “Cops found an abandoned factory filled with corpses and they’re talking vampires. They’ve got checkpoints set up; they’re checking buses and cargo trucks. I won’t do it.”

“So you can’t take us to Guatemala,” Atl said.

“It is too dangerous. You can have your money back.” Elisa tossed Atl’s envelope in front of her.

“I don’t want the damn money,” Atl exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. “I need your help to make the border crossing. You said you’d get me out.”

“I said it was complicated,” Elisa replied.

“Can’t we just take a bus?” Domingo asked.

“Sure. When we get to the terminal, we’ll ask security to let us on nicely. I’m sure they won’t question us when they notice I’m missing a hand or anything. Good God.” Atl grabbed her glass and downed it in one quick gulp, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“Sorry,” Domingo muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She could stay with you,” Elisa said, speaking to Bernardino. “Things will cool down in a while and it’ll be easier to leave the city. The roads should be better.”

“They can’t be with me,” Bernardino said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“What other option is there?” Elisa said.

“If you think—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Atl said, stuffing the papers back in the envelope. She was trying to keep herself in check but it wasn’t working, her hands were shaky, barely able to grip her documents. “I got into Mexico City and I can get out by myself and—”

“Cross at Ciudad Hidalgo. It will be controlled by Necros,” Bernardino said nonchalantly, his turn to interrupt her.

“The South is still in dispute,” Atl said. “It’s not controlled by them.”

“I’m sure Godoy has shared your picture with as many associates as he can. I’m sure it’s even been shared with people who are not his associates at all. One way or the other there are going to be too many people interested in you. You can’t manage on your own. Not if Elisa is right and this has exploded the way it has.”

“What do you suggest?” Atl asked.

“There’s old trails in the jungle. Stuff only villagers use.” Bernardino said, “You can get far if you know the right person. I do. I can help you get into Guatemala, but I can’t get you out of Mexico City.”

“I hopped on a truck to get in,” Atl said. “I could hop on another.”

A group of mariachis had begun to play at a nearby table. They were singing the corrido of “El Caballo Blanco.” People started to sing with them. Atl had poured herself another glass of tequila.

“I’ve seen what the checkpoints are like,” Elisa said. “They’re not going to let the truck through without a search.”

“So? We keep quiet,” Atl said in a clipped voice.

“And if they have thermal scanners? Every bus, every car, anything with wheels is going to be searched. This stuff’s too hot right now.”