Category: Drama Publisher: KillerBeam Entertianment
ISBN-10: B081DK11F7
Type: Fiction
Pages: 70
Copyright: November 12th 2019
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
When three immigrants, one being a late-term pregnant woman, illegally cross the border and encounter a pair of armed militia, it ends in both an abhorrent act of violence, and an empathetic display of mercy.
“Day Crosser” will highlight a poor migrant farming family from Mexico looking to escape the ruthless violence of the drug cartels. With a baby on the way, the couple hopes to start a new life in America – free from the fear and retribution by local crime lords.
A parallel story-line will focus on a recently discharged Afghanistan veteran suffering from Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and his journey for normalcy for his wife and young daughter. After he is rejected for a career as a border patrol guard, he’s then persuaded to join the local militia group headed by a retired LAPD police officer with a questionable past.
When these opposite worlds collide on a hot, desert mountainside overlooking the Mexican/Arizona border, tragedy ensues, followed by an empathetic display of humanity and mercy.
Excerpt
DAY CROSSER
When Empathy Is Your Only Savior…
Even in the early morning, the sun heated the land. It would only get hotter across the Mexican horizon. The dirt beneath its rays was disturbed only a few hours before when the diggers still had the cool of the night in the wind. The graves were adorned with crosses made of scrap wood and wildflowers and had been placed around the burial site. High above in the tree limbs, a smattering of cicadas buzzed like a small orchestra accompanied by the rank smell of death that still lingered heavily in the air.
Miguel Hernandez didn’t want to keep staring at the graves. It had been less than a week since the cartels last raided them, but it seemed like just hours removed. He stood to the side, swallowing down the knot in his throat while letting a few random tears slip down his sunbathed cheeks. His wife, Rosa, squeezed his elbow before she moved to go place a bundle of marigolds on the closest grave. Miguel easily supported her weight as she struggled to bend down, her nine-month pregnant belly making it difficult.
Rosa gently gripped the Virgin Mary pendant that hung from her neck and pulled it away from her body. She tilted her head down and whispered a prayer in her native tongue, “May Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life.” Her words drifted with the light breeze. “Why did this follow us here?” Rosa asked of her husband.
Miguel had no answer, as he looked out over the remaining livestock. It consisted of a small herd of goats and pigs wandering about the village as displaced as the humans. They too had been slaughtered indiscriminately, as the crows and magpies picked away at the bullet-riddled carcasses littered around the landscape. Miguel shook his head at the horrible sight. It was almost exactly as they had experienced three years earlier in troubled state of Michoacán. There they had witnessed friends and relatives killed by the ensuing cartel violence while working the vast avocado orchards of the region. It was their home… but now that swath of destruction followed them here, near the base of the Sierra Madre Occidental in the state of Sinaloa.
“We would have been safer in the labor camps,” said Miguel. And they had done all they could to avoid those rat-infested labor camps, opting instead for the smaller, seemingly peaceful outlying farming communities to sustain and heal.
Behind them, a few paces away, Carlos Zapata tried to forget how much he knew of these kinds of deaths. The brutality. The heartlessness. He shook himself out of his own headspace and approached them, stepping to the right of Miguel.
“How many did they kill?”
“Six,” replied Miguel, as he gazed fearfully at the graves. “They came only to kill… to leave us in fear.”
Rosa, still grasping her holy pendant, placed it gently back upon her chest and lightly pressed it against her beating, yet broken heart. A deathly silence suddenly resounded around them as even the birds and cicadas momentarily muted their songs. Carlos wasn’t comfortable with that silence.
“Yes, that is what they do. And they do it well. Join them or die. I’m so sorry, my friend.” Carlos said.
For another moment, they tried not to accept the reality, but truthfully, they both knew that some yards away, farmers were packed like sardines in a rusted-out van and a junk station wagon.
“Everyone is leaving, though some want to stay behind,” murmured Miguel as he pointed toward an elderly man - his tired, wrinkled face void of emotion. There was nothing left for this man to do, as he watched the people from his village turn their backs on their lands, their farms, their homes. Carlos didn’t need to ask how the man might end up. “The old fool has no more life to live. Sees no reason to flee…” said Miguel.
“Related?” asked Carlos.
Miguel shook his head. “No family for either of us here. But they’ve welcomed and accepted us like family in the short time we’ve been here. That’s why it is so hard,” he choked on his words and pulled Rosa closer.
“No place is safe for us here.” Miguel strained to speak in simple sentences. “I just want my wife and baby not to be threatened anymore.”
Carlos ran his gaze over the other remaining farmers as they lined up for exile. “Say your goodbyes. Uncle Rodrigo is waiting.” Miguel nodded but remained still in his grief for a minute longer. “We don’t want to be anywhere near this place when they return.” Carlos’ warning cut like a dagger.
Miguel and Rosa finally moved to the villagers and said their farewells with their chosen family. They kissed and hugged them all as they tried to portray their emotions and appreciation for everything they had given them: Love, gratitude, and community.
Rodrigo Zapata blew swirling smoke from his mouth as he looked over the countryside. It was very similar to the region in which he had been born and raised. He puffed on his cigar and reminisced. This was land that he had worked for years in spite of the cartels and threats. Despite all the death, this was his home and would remain so. The beauty still radiated within its natural boundaries, beyond the fleeing farmers and makeshift burials within his smoky viewpoint.
Rodrigo glanced over his shoulder when he heard people approaching from behind. He quickly rubbed out his cigar and smiled at Miguel, throwing his arms wide open as he hopped off the back of his pickup truck.
“Miguel!” He pulled the much younger man into him, hugging and patting his back with tenderness. “It’s been how many years?”
Miguel reflected thoughtfully. “At least five or six?”
“Yes. At least… I just wish it was under better circumstances.”
Rodrigo let the words wither, politely turning his attention to Rosa. “And this lovely Senora must be Rosa Marie?” He bent down, kissing the back of her hand.
“Gracias, Senor. It is a great pleasure to meet you. We are very thankful,” replied Rosa as she tucked her hand above her round belly. Rodrigo noticed the motion and then cocked his head.
“May I, Senora?”
Rosa nodded. Rodrigo reached out his palm and pressed it against her stomach just as the baby kicked and shifted inside its mother.
“This baby is very active. A boy?”
Rosa smiled. “Miguel wants a boy. I just want it to be a happy, healthy baby.”
Miguel cut in. “Yes, and a baby born far from here.”
Rodrigo slowly turned to Carlos, concern etched on his face. He waved Carlos to the side so that they could speak alone.
“Excuse us. I need to have a quick word with my nephew,” he explained as he and Carlos moved around to the opposite side of the truck. Miguel and Rosa gave no opposition as Rodrigo checked to see that they were far enough away from them both as he turned his voice down. “I worry about this, Carlos. Trekking in the hot sun could be very bad for both Rosa and the unborn.”
Carlos shrugged. “I can get them to where we need to go quicker in the day. I’ve done this route many times before.”
Rodrigo narrowed his eyes. “Okay. Okay. But you won’t have the cover of darkness on your side.”
“Night is when border patrol and trafficking is at its heaviest, especially at this location. And we would have to move at an even slower pace because visibility and footing will be poorer and more treacherous for Rosa. Not to mention, rattlesnakes and scorpions are more active at night,” Carlos stated firmly.
Rodrigo paused and mulled over his nephew’s words for a long moment. He whisked out another Mexican cigar and studied it intently while remaining in deep thought. He finally nodded his approval and grasped his nephew’s shoulder with a firm yet reassuring grip. They walked back around the pickup truck and rejoined the couple. “We leave now. It’s a two-day journey. But we are well prepared.”
“Rodrigo. We just want to thank you again. You risk a lot,” said Miguel.
Rodrigo kindly interjected and waved his hand in a friendly manner. “No, no, no. I will assist you in any way I can, of course, but I am simply driving you to the location. Carlos is the one leading you to freedom and prosperity,” he said with a certain fondness towards his nephew. “I am so grateful you finally left the cartels behind,” he muttered and gestured to the graves across the dirt lot.
“I know, Uncle. And you’ll never let me forget,” said Carlos.
“That is what concerns me. The cartels have not forgotten either,” growled Rodrigo.
“Looking over my shoulder, a small price I am willing to pay.”
Rodrigo remained quiet for a long moment. “You don’t have to pay if you join Miguel and Rosa in America?” He suggested.
Carlos, shocked by his uncle’s words, thought deeply, if only for a second or two. “You will miss me?”
“Of course. But I want my nephew to lead his own prosperous life. Here, you have nothing but corruption and ruin. In America, you have a chance at something more,” said Rodrigo.
Carlos glanced at the couple beside them and turned his gaze back to Rodrigo. This was not a suggestion he could ponder for any amount of time. “Then I will stay with Rosa and Miguel,” Carlos blurted out. Rodrigo grinned ear to ear.
Miguel and Rosa smiled, grateful that not only would Carlos help them achieve a better life, but he would help himself as well.
At first I thought this was about someone who crossed the border daily to work. But I see that it is a story about a crossing in Arizona where those crossing the border encountered a PTSD veteran and something terrible must have happened.
I crossed in Arizona once to Yuma after coming down through California and crossing at Mexicali that nearly ended my trip down the peninsula along the Sea of Cortez. I was in my car and made an illegal left turn and stopped by a policeman in the street. He let me go, so I'm glad I didn't have that a adventure. I have crossed several times along the Rio Grande River and saw how easy it is to swim if you can swim and how dangerous it can be if you can't swim.
Rovella is a beautiful woman with a cold heart whom blames herself for an unfortunate old family secret that is literally ruining her life. This secret impedes a gorgeous woman from having happiness in her childhood, and throughout her life. Dark sec
Rovella is a beautiful woman with a cold heart whom blames herself for an unfortunate old family secret that is literally ruining her life. This secret impedes a gorgeous woman from having happiness in her childhood, and throughout her life. Dark sec
Rovella is a beautiful woman with a cold heart whom blames herself for an unfortunate old family secret that is literally ruining her life. This secret impedes a gorgeous woman from having happiness in her childhood, and throughout her life. Dark sec
