“I wash their wounds with a tincture of chamomile, thyme, rosemary, and oregano. They’re sleeping in response to a concoction that I create from valerian and other herbs, and this afternoon I’ll use salvia.”
Emma raised her eyebrows. “The hallucinogen? Well that should be interesting.”
Octavio frowned. “We don’t use it the way those in the North do—just to obtain a temporary high. We use it to illuminate a man’s psyche. Delve into his thoughts.”
“What time?” Emma said. She wanted to be present to watch Octavio probe into the migrant workers’ subconscious. The only time she’d seen salvia utilized, it was at a base camp in a small town in Panama, where the smokers fell into a trance and then to sleep.
“Two o’clock,” Octavio said.
“I’ll be there.”
Octavio gave her a thoughtful look. “What do you think it is? The herbicide?”
Emma considered the question. “The herbicide is getting its share of detractors. Especially in Colombia, where they’ve been using it for years. Neighboring villages are claiming that it causes cancer clusters, skin diseases, and strange maladies, but I haven’t heard of anything on the magnitude of what you’re seeing here.”
“They’re harming nature. Upsetting the balance.”
“La Valle is harming a lot more than nature and he doesn’t really give a damn about human life. Even Serena’s. If he did, he would have taken her to a hospital already. Demanding that I do something is just show. A smokescreen to keep her thinking she has a chance.”
“But you do know a lot about the herbicide.”
“But very, very little about medicine.”
“There’s a field over there.” Octavio pointed to the west. “With a bulldozer. Seventy-two people are buried in that place. La Valle killed them.”
Emma swallowed. She couldn’t imagine seventy-two dead people. Didn’t want to imagine it.
Octavio gave her a sympathetic look and disappeared inside the tepee. Emma glanced up. A camera lens pointed at her from a tree opposite the tepee’s flap opening. Its red eye glowed in a steady stare.
Chapter 6
Emma found Oz sitting on the path, halfway between the migrant huts and the hacienda, smoking a joint. She yanked four leaves off a nearby tree, stacked one on the other, and placed them on the dirt in front of him.
“Put it out on the ground and wrap it in these,” she said. “Fast.”
Oz gave her a dreamy look. “What? I’m not done.”
“Oh yes you are. Are you crazy? What in the world possessed you to smoke that thing?”
Oz inhaled and blew out a stream of smoke. He gave Emma a goofy smile. “I smoke every day. Have for the last eight years. Since I left MIT.”
Emma let her surprise show on her face. “MIT? What’s your degree?”
“No degree. I quit after the second year. I took physics and computer science,” Oz said.
Now Emma was confused. “Why did you leave? Half the world would kill for a chance to go to MIT.”
Oz nodded. “I know. Well, I know that now. It was supposed to be just for a summer, but it was so much easier following the band that I decided to extend my leave for a year.” He inhaled again. “That was seven years ago. I never went back. Just worked the concerts at night and got high all day.”
“So that explains the complete lack of motivation,” Emma said.
Oz rolled his eyes. “You’re one of those.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Oz shrugged. “One of those driven kind of people. I met all kinds of them at MIT. Each one smarter than the last and each one gunning for the other’s back. Racking up degrees and awards just so you’ll feel good about yourself.”
Emma pointed at the leaf bed. “Drop it, Oz. I mean it. You have no idea whether it’s contaminated.”
Oz shook his head. “Nope. This is from La Valle’s personal stash. Serena gave it to me.” He leaned forward. “And it’s excellent, let me tell you. The guy’s an asshole, but he sure knows his drugs.”
Emma crouched down to Oz’s level. “Serena’s got a sore on her finger. Or did you forget?”
Oz froze. He seemed to struggle to concentrate. Emma grit her teeth to avoid snapping at him. She couldn’t imagine how a man so obviously smart could act so patently stupid. Oz tilted his head to one side as he looked at her. Emma noted that his pupils were huge.
“But La Valle doesn’t, and Serena says he smokes every day. It couldn’t be his stash that’s causing the disease in Serena.”
“But it could be. Put it out. And don’t touch any more until I figure this thing out,” Emma said. Oz made an irritated sound and rubbed the joint’s lit end in the dirt next to his leg. He tossed the butt onto the bed of leaves. Emma reached out and started to roll them toward the joint. When she was finished, she had a tightly curled tube with the joint wrapped in the center.
“This situation is so damn frightening, that’s the only way I’m going to get through it.” Oz indicated the leaves.
Emma could sympathize, but not to the extent that she would allow him to infect himself, however unknowingly. She looked up, into the trees. Oz followed her gaze.
“Looking for cameras?” he said.
Emma nodded.
“I took a walk around and counted them.”
Emma settled onto the trail next to him. “So tell me what you learned.”
Oz heaved a sigh. “The entire compound is a thousand acres. It’s enclosed at the farthest edges by a regular wooden-rail fence. No barbed wire, nothing. Fence is only four feet high.”
“The migrant huts are surrounded by chain-link and razor wire,” Emma said.
Oz nodded. “Yeah, but that’s the only place that is. Turns out that the surrounding landscape is impossible to cover by car. There’s only one road in, and one out. You get off that road and even the toughest four-wheel drive can’t manage the terrain. It creates a natural barrier. You’d go miles in any direction before you’d hit a town. The rest of the acreage looks to be like a former working ranch that La Valle bought for himself. He’s even got a farm on the far end, where he has some cattle, horses, and armadillos.”
“Armadillos?” Emma said. “What’s he doing with armadillos?”
“Who the hell knows? Guy’s not all there.” Oz tapped his temple with a finger.
“So what’s keeping the migrant workers here? If they plan it right, once they’re outside of the fortified area, they can just sneak off the ranch over the wooden fences.“
Oz shook his head. “Nope. That’s where the cameras come in. They’re everywhere. Every one hundred feet at the perimeter, four on the outside of the hacienda and God knows how many more inside. Three on the stable’s exterior wall, two interior with a view of the breezeway down the center. One camera sits on top of what looks like a cell-phone tower outside the compound that captures a view of the road leading to the house. Even if these guys managed to get over the fence, they’d have to run a long time to the nearest village, and then they’d probably get turned in by La Valle’s flunkies. He pays everyone in town for their silence.” Oz batted at a fly that landed on his sleeve. “I’m stuck. I’m going to have to deliver that shipment.” His voice held a desolate note.
Emma stood. “You’re not stuck. Something will break.” Oz gazed upward at her. He rose, smacking dead leaves and twigs off his jeans as he did.
“I wish I shared your conviction. What did the medicine man tell you?”
Emma started back toward the hacienda. Oz fell in step next to her. “Not much. He repeated the claims of a curse. He says La Valle dabbles in black magic.”
Oz groaned. “The guy is looney tunes.”
Emma nodded. “The medicine man called him Satan’s messenger.”
“Lovely,” Oz’s voice was dry. “Raoul told me they caught you running in the desert. Just what the hell possessed you to run through the desert at night that close to the border? You had to know that the coyotes were out there, shuttli
ng their humans around.”
“It’s my job,” Emma said.
Oz snorted. “And to think just two days ago I would have killed for a job.” They walked some more. “Raoul also said that you know about herbicides. Do you think the herbicide is creating the disease?”
“I doubt it, but at the same time wouldn’t rule it out. It’s possible the DOD is using a new concoction that I’m unaware of. As it is, the usual herbicide is boosted with so much deadly stuff that some countries are claiming that the residue creates rapid birth defects and cancer cases. But I’ve never heard of a massive, systemic disease on the level of what these men are experiencing.”
As they moved Emma watched the tops of trees for video cameras. They reached the hacienda and reentered the family room. La Valle was there, talking on a small cell phone. Raoul sat next to him, listening to La Valle’s end of the conversation. Emma stayed by the door and waited. She was loath to get any closer to La Valle. When he was finished, he turned his eyes on her.
“I need some equipment,” Emma said.
“What type of equipment?” Raoul said.
“A microscope, petri dishes, slides. In short, I need a laboratory.” Emma felt some satisfaction when she saw La Valle frown. That’s right, jerk, I need more than you can provide, she thought.
“Isn’t there a microscope over at the farm?” Raoul addressed his question to La Valle, who nodded. Raoul waved a hand in the general direction of the backyard. “There’s a farm at the far end of the property. Ask Miguel to show you where the medical supplies are kept. I think they have a microscope there for the veterinarian’s use when she comes. Oz, you’ve seen it. Take her there.”
Oz gave a curt nod.
“What did Octavio tell you?” La Valle asked. His eyes bored into Emma’s.
“That he’s used a tincture with herbs on the sores and this afternoon he’ll administer salvia.”
La Valle grunted. “The magic mint. That’s good. I expected him to do that first thing. Don’t know why he waited.”
“Magic mint? What’s it do?” Oz asked.
Emma tipped her hand from side to side. “Salvia is a hallucinogen. Makes people laugh, cry, but mostly just stay stock-still while a movie plays in their brain. Once the hallucinations start, the medicine men believe that the patient will speak the truth of what’s actually attacking his system.”
“It’s a magical leaf,” La Valle said. Emma didn’t respond. La Valle’s belief in magic would be his downfall, one way or another. The only question was whether he would bring her down with him. She turned and walked out into the sunshine. Once there she took a deep breath, happy to be out of La Valle’s orbit. She heard the door behind her open and close.
“So what’s your next step?” Oz said.
Break out of here, Emma thought.
Chapter 7
“Take me to the farm,” Emma said. Oz struck out to the right, headed toward the stable. When they reached the graveled area that acted as a parking lot, he swung a leg over a flashy motorcycle parked next to the Jeep Raoul had used to drive them to the fields.
“Hop on,” he said.
Emma joined him on the back and wrapped her arms around his waist. His body felt warm through his tee shirt. He kicked the cycle alive, and the engine’s noise sent a group of blackbirds flapping out of the trees. They cruised on a dirt road that ran along the inside of the wooden rail fence. Emma scanned the trees. No video cameras that she could see. Then a wooden pole, much like an electrical pole, came into view. At the top Emma spied a small wireless camera.
Oz turned his head toward her. “See it?” he yelled over the roar of the engine.
She nodded against his back.
During the trip she determined that Oz was right. The poles appeared in formation, and each one sported a camera. Video surveillance monitored the entire compound. Oz drove up to a gate and killed the engine. A pole sat twelve feet from them. The gate bisected the fields, creating a separate area. Emma counted ten horses grazing in the distance.
Oz waved at the meadow. “This is where the farm starts. The outbuildings, stables and a ranch house are up ahead.” He started the motorcycle up again. After a minute or two more, the outbuildings came into view. In front of them was a one-level house painted white, with a large carport attached to one side that was wide enough for two cars. A black SUV was parked in the spot nearest the side door.
Behind the ranch house Emma saw a round paddock and two more stables, these more modern-looking than the one back at the hacienda. Several smaller corrals held pigs, and cows grazed in an adjacent field. Oz parked the cycle next to the SUV. Emma swung a leg off and stood up while he killed the engine. She walked to the vehicle and peered inside. On the passenger seat was a stack of invoices, with the name “Luisa Perez” at the top and the acronym “M.V.Z.”
“The veterinarian is here,” Emma said. “Let’s go inside.”
The first room consisted of a combination dining and kitchen area. A round wooden table with chairs painted white sat in the center of the dining area, which opened into a square space with a kitchen. Emma pushed through another door on the far side of the room and stepped into the laboratory.
A young Mexican woman, her hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing jeans and a blue chambray shirt, worked at a counter lined with a microscope and several round glass containers, each with their own aluminum top. She looked up when Emma entered. She had a lovely face, devoid of makeup, and skin that glowed with good health.
“May I help you?” she said in English. Emma introduced herself and Oz, who had stepped up behind her. “I’m a chemist. Are you the vet?”
The woman nodded. “Luisa Perez.” Emma reached out her hand. Dr. Perez hesitated. When it became obvious that the woman wouldn’t shake her hand, Emma slowly withdrew it. Dr. Perez’s face flushed, and she looked down in embarrassment.
“Are you afraid that I have the migrant workers’ sickness?” Emma said.
Perez grimaced. “I’m sorry. I just can’t take the risk. I’m here for only a moment. One of the mares is due to give birth, and I wanted to check on her.”
“Have you told the authorities about what’s going on here?” Emma said.
Perez got a panicked look on her face. “Absolutely not! La Valle would have me killed if I spoke out of turn. I care for his animals, and in return he pays me and leaves me alone.”
Oz turned abruptly and stalked out of the room. The walls shook when he slammed out the door one room away.
Perez sighed. “I apologize, but La Valle is not a man to take lightly. He is quite powerful, and I don’t wish to have any trouble. I do my job and don’t ask any questions.”
Emma felt her anger rising again. She had hoped for more from this woman despite the fact that she knew La Valle was a force in the area. How could Perez help the animals he housed but not the humans he abused? Emma took a step closer. Perez took a step back.
“I’m here against my will. I didn’t ask to be involved in this mess, but now that I’m here I can’t just turn my back. The men are dying. They need to get to a hospital. Preferably a large teaching hospital, where their condition can be diagnosed and treated.”
Perez shook her head. “I can’t help you. Or them. Octavio told me that he believes they will die whether they go to a hospital or not.”
“They deserve a chance. Octavio could be wrong.”
Perez pushed past Emma, headed toward the door.
“Wait!” Emma said. Perez turned and gave her a wary look. Emma sought to placate her. “Can you tell me what medications you have here? Maybe show me the farm?”
Perez took a deep breath. She jerked her chin at the cabinets that lined the walls above the countertops. “I have liniments for the animals, tranquilizers, syringes, and some very general medications for various routine ailments. Heartworm, rabies vaccinations, things like that.”
“I want to take scrapings from the men’s sores and look at them under the microscope. I’d also lik
e to draw some blood and have it analyzed. Do you have fresh slides, a scalpel, and some gloves? A petri dish would be great as well.”
Perez reached into the cabinet and began removing supplies. She assembled them on the counter before reaching below and opening a brown paper bag. She loaded the tools in, added gloves and packets containing alcohol swabs, curled the top and handed it to Emma.
“Thanks. Once I draw the blood, could you take it to a lab in town?”
Perez shook her head. “Not unless La Valle orders it.”
Emma gritted her teeth at the woman’s complete lack of a spine. “La Valle ordered me to investigate the disease and treat it. To do that I’ll need the use of a lab. I think he’ll understand.”
Perez got a dubious look on her face. “If it’s all right with him, then I’ll do it.”
Emma tried a different tack. Maybe the woman would open up more if she felt Emma was on her side. “What animals do you treat here?”
“All of them. Even the armadillos.”
“Ahh, yes. I’d heard that La Valle keeps armadillos. Do you know why?”
Perez grimaced. “La Valle believes in the folklore surrounding them that says an armadillo’s hard carapace covering makes it impervious to injury.”
“Impervious to injury? Seems like most of the roadkill in the west consists of armadillos.”
Perez nodded. “I know, but that doesn’t sway La Valle. He kills them and grinds their plated back armor into a fine powder.”
Emma was intrigued. “What does he do with it?”
He sprinkles it around the hacienda in a border. He believes it protects the home from evil spirits. The theory is that evil won’t cross an armored line. He’s surrounded this barn with it as well.”
“That’s nuts. Besides, if evil can’t cross the line, then La Valle himself would be stuck inside his hacienda.” The words were out before Emma could censor herself.
Perez gave a grim laugh. “You and I don’t believe these stories, but we’re scientists. He also feeds their meat to the migrant workers to make them strong.”
The Ninth Day Page 4
