Silence the Living (Mute Book 2)

by Brian Bandell

  Moni thought of what distraction she could possibly put into his head to prevent him from pulling the trigger. Blake was too disciplined. The moment he made the decision, she wouldn’t have a chance.

  “This voice in your head belongs to me, Blake. I can’t lie to you anymore.”

  His eyes widened in shock like a jungle dweller seeing a smart phone for the first time. He knocked his palm on his head as if he could shake her out of there.

  Mind control. That’s what a skin walker does, Blake thought.

  “I’m sorry I gave you a false name and story,” Moni projected into his head as she held her hands over her heart. “If I told you I was the world’s most wanted person, either you’d have gotten in trouble in the unlikely event you let me go, or we’d have to fight. I know what they say about me, but I’m not looking for trouble. I came here seeking a way out.”

  “Get out of my head!” he snapped. “You can’t put a spell on me. This necklace isn’t some flea market trinket. It’s blessed by a medicine man to ward off curses.”

  Staring at the silver-encased blue stone resting on his strong chest, Moni wished that would really protect him from what lurked in her blood. She’d rather he shoot her dead than infect him.

  No, she couldn’t let that happen with another infected host out there. Not for the sake of Aaron and Ramona, or the whole world.

  “What I have, is a curse. I tried to escape it and keep from infecting people. That’s why I came to your desert. As you know, this isn’t the ideal place for spreading the infection.”

  “Then why’d you go killing those immigrants? You made the coyotes, well I’d never call them friendly, but absolutely vicious.”

  “No, that wasn’t me…”

  “I trusted you with a girl’s life.” His eyes turned glossy and red. Blake shook his head in mournful disgust. “That was my damn mistake, not watching enough TV and reading the news. I should have recognized you as the monster they were after before I delivered that child into your hands.”

  “Ramona is alive.”

  “Stop lying to me!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted. “I told you, your spells won’t work.”

  “She is. I gave her to my friend Aaron. He’s a scientist. He’s taking her to Columbus like you asked. But the alien hosts are hunting them down. They’ll never make it.”

  “You’re the aliens.” Blake gazed at her through narrow eyes. He backed up a few paces, fully expecting that she’d strike his rifle aside at the first opening.

  “My mind isn’t infected, only my body. They seized another human host, one under their complete control. That’s why your desert’s under siege. If I can’t get to Ramona soon, they’ll take her and everyone around her, probably the whole town.”

  Blake took another step back, ensuring her blood splatter wouldn’t contaminate him when he pulled the trigger.

  Moni raised her hands before her face, although even her iron nails couldn’t stop a bullet. She’d missed her opportunity to deceive him. It’s not that he didn’t want to save Ramona. It’s that he didn’t believe her.

  Moni had one option left. It might get her killed.

  She locked her fingers behind her head, turned around and dropped on her knees.

  “Don’t risk more lives shedding my blood. I’m more useful to the military alive.”

  She closed her eyes for what seemed like an hour as Blake observed her, his focused aim never wavering.

  “Don’t you move or I’ll blast your brain through your face.”

  Blake inched toward her with the rifle targeting the back of her head. Her heartbeat raced as each footstep drew her death nearer. Finally, he stood close enough so she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck. When Blake slapped the first handcuff on her, Moni lifted her arm slightly, brushing her wrist against the outside of his hand. A mental connection instantly formed.

  Moni brought him into her cauldron of memories. She showed him how the aliens had encased her in a bubble as they invited her into their underwater habitat. He watched her accept their gift, the transformation of her body into one of their kind while preserving her free will. The scene turned red with shame as he witnessed the betrayal. A bittersweet ache throbbed in Blake’s heart, just like hers as Moni ended the invasion and the life of the girl she’d grown to love. Jumping ahead in her visions, Moni showed him Ramona climbing into Aaron’s truck and then speeding away with him as the helicopters came. Finally, she gave him a glimpse of a vision within a vision – them tracking Ramona and Aaron from above.

  Their skin separated. The whole vision had flashed by in less than a second. Risking her life to turn her head, Moni saw Blake’s face frozen in a daze, still processing it. Moni thought about clawing his rifle into metal strips, but his finger still cradled the trigger. If he cared for immigrants he didn’t even know, surely he’d understand her plight.

  Blake grabbed her wrist. This connection didn’t come gently like a lazy river but in a rush, like an injection of hot, stinging fluid. The young Blake and his teenage brother had walked along a dirt road through the barren land for hours and hours. His brother’s wreck of a car had broken down as they went hunting in the mountains. He’d given young Blake the last of the water and saved all the snacks for him. Blake had thought that peanut butter and jelly sandwich would be the last thing he ever tasted besides his parched mouth. When his brother went down, Blake had grabbed him under the shoulders and tried pulling him along. The 10-year-old could barely move him. He would have kept trying until he collapsed alongside him, but his brother had made him promise on their ancestors’ lives that he’d march ahead and find help. He had listened. Those words had driven him into a brisk trot. He had reached the main road and flagged down a car. They had found his brother. It was too late.

  He let Moni’s hand go. As she studied the look in his eyes, she saw past the rugged cowboy to the child devastated by loss, determined to make it right, vowing to spare the travelers in this desert from its cruel nature.

  “You say you’re an honest woman when it counts, right?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll let you come with me and rescue Ramona. But after that you turn yourself into the Army. I can’t have you running around my desert with a pack of mutants chasing you. Find yourself another sandbox to fight your alien war. Got it?”

  “Once we save Ramona, and Aaron, I’ll surrender. You can deliver me to the doorstep of the Pentagon if you want.”

  “This baby was built for sand and gravel, not the Beltway. Just get in.”

  He lowered the rifle. Moni exhaled in relief.

  She started toward the passenger door, but halted when she heard a metallic clang behind her. Blake had smacked the truck bed with his rifle butt.

  “You’re riding back here. Hop on in”

  Moni hurtled over the cab without touching it and landed in the truck bed. Not impressed in the slightest, Blake locked the other end of her handcuffs to a steel bar. Those cuffs might make for a convenient snack later. Blake studied her bemused reaction.

  Can’t restrain this one for long. Better drive with my rifle on my lap.

  As the ranger’s truck kicked up dirt and sped toward Columbus, Moni watched him in the rearview mirror, seeing gritty determination when he focused on the path ahead, and then reluctant sympathy when their eyes briefly met.

  Moni hoped she hadn’t deceived him again.

  52

  Fighting off sleep with his second energy drink, Aaron drove through the dark desert highway until he saw lights up ahead. At first he slowed down, fearing the soldiers had blockaded the road. No, those were actual buildings. The water tower, visible from more than a mile away, was easily the tallest structure in the Village of Columbus. It sat at the bone-dry crossroads, with a few hundred homes spread out on patches of dirt and an aging commercial district along the intersecting highways.

  He could have driven through this border outpost in five minutes. Finding Patty Estevez’s orphanage shouldn’t
be too hard, he figured. It’s the kind of small town where everybody knows everybody. Aaron watched Ramona peering out the window as they drove past an abandoned railroad with a bright red railcar sitting on the tracks. Railroad or not, Aaron wondered why anyone would stop here in the middle of the desert and build a town without any water or greenery.

  Aaron checked his rearview mirror. The headlights were so far behind he could barely see them. He turned off State Highway 9 to see if they would follow.

  Given the Mexican architecture of the low-lying boxy buildings they passed under the street lights, the girl probably felt like she had crossed the border. Their facades were spirited, he gave them that, with blue, red and gold, plus some with pink hues.

  “Donde estamos?” the girl asked.

  Aaron figured she asked where they were. If he could speak better Spanish, he’d tell her they were stopping for ice cream and cotton candy, she just had to show him a store that’s open in the middle of the night. Instead he dumbly replied, “Columbus. Muy bien.” He gave her a thumbs up and a goofy smile.

  “Esta mi mama aqui?”

  The poor girl’s mother. How could he tell her? Aaron released a heavy sigh.

  They passed a sign for Pancho Villa State Park. This must have been the town that the Mexican revolutionary invaded in 1916. It was the last time before 9/11 that a foreign force had attacked the continental United States. No way would New York, D.C. or Pennsylvania name a park after the hijackers. But this was New Mexico, emphasis on the Mexico, and Villa was a folk hero.

  Something told him the New Mexicans wouldn’t show such admiration for the latest invaders.

  He passed a few restaurants but they were all closed. Not enough night owls. Aaron spotted a flickering sign for a hotel. The quaint two-story building was the cleanest he’d seen in this town. It even had a fountain out front with actual water. In Florida, it might have had one of those charming pools in the center of a parking lot, but that would have been a luxury out here.

  Opening the cooler and taking the pressured container labeled “infectious substance” as it contained the vial of Moni’s blood, Aaron slipped it into his coat pocket. He opened the door for Ramona to get out of the truck. Aaron offered her his hand but she jumped down by herself. As she headed for the hotel ahead of him, he noticed a few fruit rollups stuffed into her pockets. Nothing wrong with a little sugar survival instinct.

  Aaron expected to enter a lobby. He got a living room. With a homely sofa, love seat with cushy pillows, wooden coffee table, and photos of blooming desert flowers on the walls, it felt like grandma’s house from a 1950s sitcom.

  “Hold on, I’m coming. Vengo!” shouted a voice from upstairs. She clearly had more comfort with English than Spanish.

  A minute later, a woman old enough to remember her father’s tales about fending off Pancho Villa creaked down the stairs in baggy blue pajamas. She wore her gray hair in a tight ponytail and had heavy glasses on her face.

  “My my, you’re in late? And with a little girl?” the innkeeper leaned heavily on the railing as she gingerly set her slippers on the floor. “Child, what are you doing up at this hour?”

  As the pajamas stretched tight against her back, Aaron noticed the silhouette of a belt and holster strapped underneath. This old lady was packing heat.

  Ramona backed away. Aaron waved her closer, but she found refuge behind the couch instead.

  “Please excuse her. She’s had a traumatic day,” Aaron said. “Lost her mother. I heard that Patty Estevez helps children like her.”

  “An illegal alien, huh,” the innkeeper gave him a no nonsense glare.

  Aaron blinked hard and looked toward the exit.

  The innkeeper’s mouth formed into a grin. “That’s okay. We welcome all comers. Crash here for the night, have a full breakfast and I’ll show you where Patty lives in the morning.”

  Aaron thought of Moni fighting for her life in the desert. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, and how could he when he didn’t know whether she was alive or dead? He didn’t care whether he downed another ten energy drinks, he wouldn’t shut his eyes until he held Moni in his arms, the real Moni.

  He heard scratching above him. Aaron looked up. Even two stories up, the noise penetrated through the hotel. It sounded like something heavy.

  “What’s that racket?” he asked.

  “Oh, just the ghosts. But they don’t go in the rooms, except under your beds.” The innkeeper smiled, flashing her dentures. For the first time, Aaron was glad Ramona didn’t know English. “Seriously, sugar, sometimes critters hang out up there, owls, rats, and whatnot. Lot of vultures during the day. Better sleep in here with them outside than the alternative, right sweetie?”

  That didn’t sound like something as light-footed as a bird or a rodent.

  “I appreciate your hospitality,” Aaron said. Not to mention your drive to part me from my cash. “But this really can’t wait. I have to be back in El Paso for work tomorrow morning. I need to drop her off and go.”

  “Mmm, hmmm.” The innkeeper nodded as she eyed him up and down.

  Aaron hoped the innkeeper wouldn’t repeat his plan in Spanish. He didn’t think the girl would take well to getting handed off more than a football during a double reverse.

  “I’ll tell you how to get there, but knock softly,” the innkeeper said. “Patty’s got a lot of little ones tucked in. Don’t be surprised if she opens the door with a shotgun in your face at this hour.”

  “I won’t take offense as long as she doesn’t fire.”

  She chuckled as if that wasn’t a given. “How about I treat this little darling to a hot cocoa for the road? She looks mighty famished.” She faced Ramona. “Tienes sed?”

  The girl nodded, so the innkeeper brewed Ramona a rich drink, which Aaron made sure was in a to-go cup. The innkeeper succeeded in parting Aaron with some of his cash, though he doubted it would make up for her losing out on prime sleeping time. He threw in a nice tip.

  With Ramona carefully sipping the steaming drink, Aaron led her back to the truck. Upon seeing the vehicle, the girl gasped. Her trembling hands dropped the cocoa, spilling it across the dirt.

  “What? What is it?” Aaron asked.

  53

  Aaron scooped Ramona up. She flung her arms around his shoulders. He was so stunned by her embrace that he didn’t realize right away that it wasn’t fondness, but fear. The passenger side door had a deep dent in it, below a cracked window. Its handle had been gnawed at, as though by bone-grinding teeth. It didn’t open. Something had tried to get in right at the spot where he kept the cooler.

  They were after him.

  Aaron swiveled his head and examined the hotel roof. He didn’t see anything up there. He didn’t see anything in the darkness above the building, or on its sides, or on the unlit road. That didn’t mean there was nothing there.

  With Ramona clinging to him, Aaron hustled to the driver’s side, reached in and flicked on the lights. Something near the building moved swiftly. His heart jumped. It didn’t come closer. It lurked in the shadows, waiting.

  Keeping one eye on the dark figure, Aaron helped Ramona climb into the truck. “I know you’re beginning to like me, little bambina.” He deposited the container with Moni’s blood into the cooler. “But I’m not staying here a second longer than I have to.”

  He drove up State Road 11, not a car in sight behind him, and then swung west on North Boundary Road. At first, it was dotted with houses, many of them protected by concrete walls. Then the badlands started taking over. Expansive patches of desert shrubbery and a few trees dominated the landscape but for the occasional house. If not for the utility poles, Aaron would have thought it a road to nowhere. The brown sand swept over so much of the road that he could barely tell it was paved. Tire tracks marked adjoining dirt roads that led to rugged trails.

  Finally, before the road ended – marking the last town for over 50 miles to the west – he found a paved driveway that angled southwest. It wasn’t a s
hort and sweet welcoming mat like for the suburban homes, but a crudely poured path for about 100 yards through the dusty desert. At the end, he found a two-story house, a modern version of a frontier outpost. It had an expansive porch with swings on either side of the door, a well on the side, and the first well-manicured bushes he’d seen all night. A moderately worn pickup truck and an aging van were parked out front. A light in the side window casts its glow across the dirt-patch ground. As his pickup truck neared the house, a sensor triggered the porch light.

  “There goes our surprise. Let’s see if we can knock on the door before they shoot us,” Aaron said.

  Ramona lowered the cocoa from her mouth and gave him a perplexed look.

  “It’s okay. If they don’t fall for my dashing charms, we’ll win them over with your cuteness.”

  Aaron slipped the container with Moni’s blood into his jacket and helped Ramona out through his door. As they approached the house, he reached for the girl’s hand. He needed to hold hands more than her. He wanted to show Patty he was a caring guy and not dumping off a child so he could go party and get high.

  “Por favor,” Aaron said.

  She cradled his palm with her moist fingers. He couldn’t tell which one of them was trembling more. Every step he took, he felt like if he whirled around, he’d catch some beast sneaking up on them. He glanced behind him. Best he could tell, everything seemed normal. Of course, an elephant could have been quietly standing in the darkened desert that encircled the house and he wouldn’t have known better.

  Aaron knocked lightly. He heard two sets of footsteps, one swift and the other heavy and plodding. As the innkeeper had warned, the muzzle of a weapon greeted him when the door opened, a shotgun held by a skinny woman.

  She was joined by a full-bodied woman carrying a baby sucking on his bottle. “Que haces aqui?” She had short, curly black hair and pot-marked cheeks.

  Aaron was dumbstruck. Slacking through Spanish class could cost him a whole lot more than a decent grade.