Marked in Mexico (13 page)

“You’re right. According to my calculations, we’re still in the state of Chiapas, but we have to be getting close to Tabasco.”

Jessica had no idea how he could possibly have any clue as to where they were, but she took his word for it and fell in close behind. The thought of hitchhiking terrified her under any circumstances. Being in a foreign country and not knowing who to trust made it even more frightening, but she knew it was absurd to think they could walk to safety. They were clearly in a very remote part of the country. Homes and villages were few and far between, paved roads almost nonexistent and telephones apparently a very rare luxury.

Their abductors had driven for two entire nights after they had been taken from Chichén Itzá, so they had to be a long way from any place accustomed to and friendly toward tourists. Three bedraggled Americans on foot in the jungle had to look suspicious to any local and Jessica doubted they would receive many more welcomes like the one they had from Manny.

By noon no other cars had approached. It was another scorching, steamy day and they were exhausted and almost out of water. They found a place to rest where they could keep an eye on the road, sitting in the shade and drinking what little water they had left as they rested their tired, sweaty feet.

“I hate to put you two in this position, but if the truck returns, try to flag it down. The driver will stop for you two, but might hesitate if he sees me. We’ve got to look very out of place here, but no man in his right mind would drive by you two, even in your current condition.”

“Thanks, I think,” Jessica replied. “But, what do we do once he stops?”

“Don’t get in the cab with him, even if he offers. Say the back is fine. I’ll be on the opposite side of the road. Just hang in his window and try to converse with him for a second. That’ll distract him enough for me to jump on board without him noticing. There was only one person in the truck when it passed this morning, so hopefully he hasn’t picked anyone up and doesn’t speak English, because if he asks what you’re doing out here on foot, you’ll have to come up with a believable story.”

Jessica didn’t like it, but she was too tired and thirsty to argue. She cringed as she watched Megan take off her tennis shoes and inspect her blisters. Her feet had to look nearly as bad, but she had adopted the plan of not looking. Jessica doubted she and Megan would be able to keep up Jack’s pace for too many more days with their feet in such bad shape. They were getting nowhere on foot, so if the chance to hitch a ride presented, they’d have to take the risk.

Megan adjusted her socks and re-laced her shoes and they continued to walk parallel to the road in the direction away from the village. After several hours the unmistakable sound of a truck’s engine could be heard approaching. Jack darted into the jungle on the passenger’s side of the road and Jessica and Megan moved to the edge of the dirt track and continued to walk until the truck caught up to them.

When the truck rounded the corner, Jessica could see half a dozen people on the back of the flat bed and a mother, a baby and a toddler had squeezed into the cab with the driver. It was too late to dive back into the trees and take cover, so they’d have to improvise.

The truck slowed to a stop and she and Megan approached the driver’s window.

“Does anyone speak English?” Jessica asked.

The driver nodded, so she proceeded. She had to speak loud to be heard over the hum of the ill-running motor and hoped her voice was loud enough to alert Jack to the plan.

“We’re students from the University of Texas working on a project in the jungle. We were separated from our group and got lost. Our Jeep broke down and our friend is injured. His ankle is badly sprained and we can’t walk with him much further. Can you give us a ride to the nearest town?”

The driver nodded toward the back of the truck and Jessica thanked him while Megan darted off to get Jack. She hung inside the window to prevent the man from driving off. He didn’t seem like he had any intention of ditching them, but she was afraid to lose the only ride that had come along. She introduced herself to the mother and cooed over the baby. The mother giggled and the toddler crawled onto the driver’s lap to get a closer look at Jessica.

Jack had heard the story and played the part. He put his arm around Megan and hobbled slowly to the back of the truck. Several of the young men on the flatbed reached down and helped pull Jack up. Megan and Jessica jumped aboard and the truck sped off down the rough road.

None of the passengers in the back spoke English, so they rode in relative silence. The locals offered water and fruit and moved around so Jack could lean against the cab of the truck. They accepted the generous gifts and thanked their fellow passengers, and then Jessica and Megan scooted in close to Jack and settled in for the ride. Hopefully, it would lead them to the help they needed to end their nightmare.

When they passed a sign welcoming them to the state of Tabasco, Jessica couldn’t help but feel as if they were finally making progress. She tried to visualize a map of Mexico, but couldn’t picture how far they still were from the coast or from where they had started from, but she suspected Jack had it all mapped out in his mind. No matter what, at least they had left Chiapas behind, the place that had claimed Ashley’s and Gilbert’s lives.

They had been riding for hours, first on a bumpy dirt road, then finally on a pothole-filled paved highway, before the truck rolled into a village. It was much bigger than the one they had left behind earlier in the day, but still very small. Most of the buildings were low, except for one ornate structure in the center of town which Jessica assumed must be the church.

A few vehicles bounced down the dirt streets, leading off from the paved road they’d arrived on. The scattering of automobiles was comforting, but the vehicles seemed to be outnumbered by burros. Commerce was sparse, but Jessica felt confident this was the place Manny had spoken of that might have a phone and a police station.

The driver stopped at a dilapidated building that stood guard over one scratched and rusty gas pump, which looked more relevant to the nineteen-fifties. He began filling the truck and turned to the passengers sitting on the back of the flat bed. Each of the riders pulled out a few
pesos
and handed them to the driver. Jessica remembered they had taken some money out of the pack before returning the drugs and pulled out a few bills for the driver. He seemed pleased with the amount and resumed filling the truck.

Jessica’s gaze darted around, taking in her surroundings. Nothing about the village indicated it was frequented by tourists. She saw no hotels, taxis, rental cars or restaurants. The people glanced at them with cautious, unsmiling faces as they passed by the truck, carrying buckets of water from the community well or bundles of firewood balanced on their heads. The children played in the streets and dogs lay prostrate under shade trees. The village was littered and had the smell of rotting food and the sound of buzzing flies hummed in the background, and the sight of people didn’t make Jessica feel much better.

She hoped this was not the final destination and assumed it wasn’t since none of the other passengers got off the truck. She chewed at her fingernails, a habit she had given up years ago. Something about the village seemed wrong. There was none of the friendly or festive vibe she’d found in most other Mexican towns. She glanced at Jack and could see he shared her concern.

As they anxiously waited for the driver to pay the attendant, a van pulled into the station. Jessica’s heart sank. She would never forget that van as long as she lived. She tapped her two friends to get their attention, but they had already seen it and had slunk down in the middle of the group, trying to hide their faces.

The daylight was waning, but Jessica doubted fading light was enough to hide them if the occupants of the van approached the truck or caught a glimpse of Megan’s blonde hair. As the driver finished paying, two men got out of the van and approached. Jessica could only guess they were asking him if he had seen three Americans on the road.

The men’s backs were to them and without having to say a word to each other Jack, Jessica and Megan slid over the side of the truck and ran for the closest building. They didn’t think the men had noticed, but felt certain the truck driver would admit to bringing them into the village. Soon the hunt would begin again.

It was dusk and the village buzzed with people enjoying the relatively cool evening air, but most of the shops had been locked up for the night. Dogs trotted down the streets, bellies gaunt, scavenging for food, ignoring all other beings. Life commenced around them, yet Jessica felt far removed from the activity. All she could think about was finding the police station and ending their nightmare.

She’d expected they’d draw a flurry of attention, but the locals, even the children, looked away when they passed. No one seemed interested in them at all, which struck Jessica as odd. In most towns, tourists were income, but then, they probably didn’t look much like your typical tourist.

Megan’s hair was tangled, her face dirty, her clothes filthy and torn, and her skin scratched, bruised and covered with inflamed bug bites. It was still obvious a beautiful woman existed underneath all the grime, but she definitely didn’t have the glowing carefree appearance of a vacationer. Jessica only imagined she looked equally as unappealing.

Jack looked a little fresher with the clothes he had garnered for himself, but his thick black hair hung down past his collar in a disorderly fashion, advertising he hadn’t had access to a shower or a comb in a long time. Dark hair had grown on his chin and jaw within a day of their capture, but had never filled in, giving him the perpetual look of a couple days past his last shave, a look she was beginning to like a little more all the time.

Jessica tore her gaze away from Jack’s strong jaw, searching the fronts of the buildings. From her experience in Latin American countries, she was fairly certain they would find all the municipal facilities, including the police station, around the town square anchored by the ornate church.

She adored quaint village plazas and always found them to be delightful places full of activity and culture. Normally she would be anxious to stroll around the square, soaking up the sights, but tonight her eyes focused only on the signs on each building, searching for the one that would provide the help they needed.

They stood in the shadows of the church, scanning the square for danger. They doubted the men in the van had moved on and were most likely lurking somewhere nearby. The village wasn’t large enough to conceal them for long, so they needed to find help as quickly as possible.

“There it is.” Jessica pointed to a building at the opposite end of the square. “Thank goodness. There’s a light on inside, so someone must still be there. I can’t believe this is almost over.”

Megan made a move forward.

“Not so fast.” Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Let’s ease our way around the square behind these shops. I’m sure our friends are nearby if the truck driver admitted we were on board.”

They stayed close to the buildings as they made their way toward the police station. As they neared the facility, they paused and looked around for their kidnappers. The van was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean its occupants weren’t watching. They’d seen only two men get out of the van at the gas station, but there was possibly one more with them, unless the third man was riding with the men in the SUV.

Jessica glanced up the street and saw two familiar faces slowly walking toward them. Her heart sank as the men who had abducted them and who had haunted them ever since, managed to position themselves between them and the small dilapidated police station. She motioned to Jack and Megan to retreat further into the shadows. Surely if they were patient, the men would eventually move on, leaving them an opening to contact the authorities.

The men strolled by and came to a stop in front of the police station. One man knocked on the door and two uniformed men came out into the street. The men interacted like old friends, sharing cigarettes, shaking each others’ hands, talking and laughing.

All hope faded as they watched the officers slipping from their grasp. The four men conversed for what seemed an eternity. The man who had been driving the van pulled out a wad of bills and handed a stack to each of the officers. After another shake of hands, the officers walked onto the street in the opposite direction of the two men.

They watched with stunned resignation as the officers scanned the square. The police stopped an old woman and spoke to her. The woman’s head nodded an affirmative and she pointed back toward the church. Jessica guessed the woman was pointing in the direction where she had last seen them.

“Come on. We need to get out of this town now,” Jack said as he stepped quietly away from the square.

Disappointment palpable, Jessica and Megan followed. As soon as they were away from the square, Jack increased his pace to a slow jog, weaving his way in and out of scattered houses and around small garden plots. Most of the structures were dimly lit with lanterns and a few seemed to have electric lights on inside. The aroma of roasting meats swirled in the air. Jessica was so thirsty, hungry and dirty, but once again a shower, a meal and a bed were just out of reach.

Dogs yapped at them as they passed by, but with so many animals barking, no one took notice. Jessica hoped none of the dogs would come after them, but the canines appeared content to snarl at them from the shadows and let them pass.