“Yeah.”
“Oh, thank God!”
Zach didn’t share her sense of relief. The Zetas were headed straight for the junction at Janos, where Mexico 10 intersected with the Carret and connected Janos to Juárez. Anyone headed west from Juárez would have to pass that intersection, as would any driver heading north on Mexico 10. It was the perfect place to screen traffic leaving the state of Chihuahua for Sonora.
That’s where Zach was taking Natalie, and now the Zetas would reach the intersection before they did.
ZACH GLANCED OVER at his sleeping passenger, feeling a tug in his chest. Her long hair spilled over her cheek, her lips slightly parted, her breathing deep and even. The bruise on her cheek was the only indication of the hell she’d been through these past couple of days—well, that and the Glock resting in her lap.
What was it about her that got to him? Sure, she was pretty. Okay, she was beautiful. But he’d met lots of beautiful women, and none of them had gotten inside him like Natalie had. Maybe it was the combination of grit and vulnerability that was so much a part of her. Or maybe it was just their situation. Hell, he didn’t know.
And now isn’t the time to try to figure it out.
Besides, it didn’t matter. His job was to get her home safely. Then she would go back to her life, and he would get on with his mission. They wouldn’t see each other again.
He glanced in the rearview mirror, then over at Natalie again.
It would be better for both of them if she stayed awake. If another jeep full of Zetas were to come up behind them now, he’d lose precious seconds waking her and waiting for her to get her bearings before she’d be of any use to him. And for a moment, he considered rousing her. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The peaceful expression on her face told him she’d found forgetfulness in sleep, and the last damned thing he wanted to do was to rob her of that, not when ugly reality lay just up the highway.
Let her sleep, McBride.
He took one hand off the wheel, opened the plastic bottle of ibuprofen he’d left on the dash, and popped a couple of pills, then washed them down with bottled water. Then he put his gaze back where it should be—on the road.
IT WAS ALMOST midnight by the time they reached Altar. The streets were still busy, but, apart from a couple of street vendors, most of the stores were closed, making it impossible to buy everything they’d need for their journey. They had no choice but to stay the night.
Zach had been forced to leave the highway to avoid roadblocks the Zetas had set up outside Janos, Agua Prieta, and Nogales. But he hadn’t seen a single Z on a license plate since they’d passed the outskirts of Nogales. Oh, the Zetas were here, all right. All the cartels had a presence in Altar, which served as a starting point for many of the trafficking routes into the U.S. But Altar was in the grasp of the Sinaloa Cartel.
The Zetas were lying low.
Beside him, Natalie stared out the window in apparent fascination at a vendor who was doing a brisk business in bottled water, canned food, and sunhats with American flags on them. “Is there a drought coming on? Look at how many gallons of water that man in the cowboy hat just bought.”
“Keep your head down, Natalie. Someone might recognize you.”
She did as he asked, her dark hair falling down like a curtain, concealing her face. “Sorry. I’m just curious by nature, I guess.”
Really? I hadn’t noticed.
“He’s selling water to people who are going to start out for the border tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“It gets up to a hundred and fifteen degrees out there in the desert. Traveling by day puts a person at greater risk not only of being seen by traffickers, but also dying of heatstroke or dehydration. If you’ve got the cash to pay a good coyote who knows the way, you can travel when it’s cool, and then rest during the heat of the day.”
She nodded thoughtfully as if thinking this through, then slowly turned to look up at him, wariness on her face. “Is that what we’re going to do—walk across the desert atnight?”
So she didn’t like the idea. He couldn’t say he blamed her.
“That’s the plan.” He drew up to a stop sign, then made a left. “Oh, don’t worry. We aren’t leaving tonight. I need to buy supplies. Our objective now is to lie low—get a room in a safe hotel, buy supplies tomorrow, and then get out of town.”
“I suppose you’ll be shopping around for a ‘coyote,’ too.” She spoke the word with distinct—and understandable—contempt.
“No need, angel.” He glanced over at her and smiled.
“You’ve already got a guide.”
He tilted his head back and let loose his best coyote howl. Chuckling, he glanced down again, his laughter ending abruptly when he saw the expression on her face.
Clearly, she wasnotamused.