The Beasts of Juarez

of a Spanish pop group playing on the radio, she began to cry.
Sydney knew the minute they approached the border because the van slowed down, she heard other cars idling around them, and they were moving forward for a long while but at a snail’s pace. When they finally arrived at what she thought might be the predetermined lane, the driver turned off his music to speak to a man outside the van. What transpired was not a typical exchange of dialogue for people passing through toll stations or border lanes. It was a shorter conversation, more clipped.
A moment later, when they were let through without an official inspection of the vehicle, Sydney felt her heart skip a few beats. No one was going to stop this from happening. That much was becoming clear. Now, with the border checkpoint likely behind them and America in the proverbial rearview mirror, she felt the last of her hope being dashed away. Soon she would be in the belly of a new, terrifying beast.
They hadn’t driven very far when she felt the van changing both speed and direction. She heard a few horns blaring, radios from other cars playing, and the general but identifiable sounds of stop-and-go traffic. Based on what she heard and felt, she reasoned that they were in Ciudad Juárez.
They drove for a long time after that, so far in fact that she felt the steady and soothing vibrations of the van and the exhaustion of the endeavor trying to lull her to sleep. This would not work though, because she was still wrapped in a carpet, stuffed in the back of a van with her daughters, and in another country with men whose intentions were unclear at best and diabolical at worst.
Eventually, the driver turned off of a paved road and onto a dirt road where the ride became bumpy and nearly unbearable. When they finally came to a stop, the driver rolled down his window and had a short, to-the-point conversation with a man who spoke in no-nonsense tones. A moment later, she listened to the sounds of a retracting metal gate opening. Wherever they were going, it seemed that they had arrived. A short drive on what sounded like pea-gravel took them to what became a paved driveway. The driver shut off the engine and that’s when Sydney’s fear came rushing back with a vengeance.
When the van doors were opened, the carpet she was wrapped in was dragged out of the van with no care or concern for her exhausted, abused body. No one bothered to catch them as they hit the ground in their rolls of carpet. The impact was hard enough to have her gasping for breath. Grunts from the children landing on the concrete followed, sending her into a firestorm of worry. Their captors unrolled the girls’ carpets first, and then they freed Sydney.
“Please stand,” an unfamiliar voice said in English. He had a Spanish accent, but when he spoke it was softly and with the sort of kindness one would call hospitable.
She was lying, face-down and depleted, her energy all but drained from the difficult trip. Rolling over, she pushed herself to her feet, standing before a man she could not see. Sydney managed to remain standing but on unsteady legs. Her balance was hampered by her inability to see anything. Moments later, she heard the sounds of feet walking toward her.
Someone suddenly wedged a fingernail under the edge of her duct-tape blindfold. When he got an edge, he ripped it off, causing a low groan of pain inside her. He did the same thing with the silver strip smashed over her mouth.
With her eyes now open, she expected to be looking at a pack of monsters. Instead, she laid eyes on a Hispanic man in an expensive suit with styled black hair and a handsome face. His eyes, however, were so dark and unbelievably empty that the mere sight of them had her wondering if she was looking at the devil himself.
She snuck a quick look around and saw a gorgeous house in the middle of nowhere, a desert landscape in all directions, and enough armed guards to number in the double digits. Another glance over her shoulder showed her Callie, Zoey, and Maisie. They were standing near each other, their mouths and eyes still duct-taped shut. After a snapping of the fingers from the man in front of her, the guards pulled the duct tape off of the girls’ eyes but not their mouths.
Sydney nearly broke into tears at the sight of them but she held her composure and instead turned back to the man standing before her.
For a second, he merely smiled at her, taking all of her in. But then the very air around him seemed to change, to darken, and crackle with energy. Without a word of warning or notice, he grabbed her face roughly, jerking her head forward so they were eye to eye. The act of domination and disrespect shook her to the core. If what he wanted was her full attention, he sure as hell had it.
“Welcome to Juárez, Sydney Fox,” this creature with dead eyes said. “My name is Santiago Cardenas and you no longer have to die to go to hell. This is the front gate, I am your gatekeeper, and you are about to leave this world for another that will scare you, maybe even to death. Are you afraid to die, Sydney?”
She just stared at him, his hand still gripping her face. “Yes,” she managed to say.
“That is the right feeling,” he replied, shoving her face away. “I trust you are happy to see your daughters?”
She felt herself starting to shake inside, the gravity of the situation never heavier