Page 19 of Jagged Line Paradise

He cuts off the engine and I swallow hard, swallowing dry with a painful lump in my throat. He opens his door and slowly makes his way around the truck. My eyes lock onto him and watch—carefully watch—as he circles around toward the passenger side.

I’m gonna run when he opensthe door.

Adrenaline surges, pumping through me hard and fast as he reaches for the handle of my door. He pulls, the latch clicks open, and he draws the door open wide. I jump out, landing on bare feet—the pink flip-flops I’d slipped on this morning must have fallen off when he put me in the truck. A stone presses painfully into the arch of my right foot and I stumble, nearly falling face first into the dirt, but I right myself quickly.

And then I run.

I run as fast as my feet will carry me out into the desert. I chase after the tire tracks in the dirt because I don’t see anything resembling a road. I run and run, but soon I’m out of breath, the burst of adrenaline fading and my energy draining in the hot summer sun.

“Come on back here,puta.” I hear him shout, and from the volume of his voice, I know he’s not that far off.

I stop.

I turn.

I look all around me in every direction.

It’s vast, open desert. Not a single cloud in the sky, nothing to offer shade or protection from the bright, blistering heat of the mid-morning. The dusty ground surrounding me is only speckled with cacti and yucca plants and the faint tire tracks through the dirt—the tracks lead me in the direction from which we came, but they stretch out as far as I can see with only desert beyond.

There’s nowhere for me to run to, nowhere for me to hide. The only hiding place around is the death box nestled behind the pile of boulders, which I now understand were intentionally placed.

I don’t knowwhat to do.

What do I do?

Fearful and hopeless, I collapse to my knees and I sob. I should keep running. I should keep running until...

Untilwhat?

I don’t know where I am or how far out he’s driven me. There’s nothing for miles around that I can see. Just dirt, cacti, mountain peaks in the far distance, and...the Canyon Carver’s death box.

I hear the rev and start of a small engine, followed moments later by the rumble of his truck starting up again. I turn my head over my shoulder and watch for a moment as he slowly drives toward me. I climb to my feet because my body begs me to move, to get away. My vision is clouded with tears as I start walking away, the soles of my feet burning and my body already exhausted.

The truck creeps up beside me and rolls along as I keep moving. Mr. Hernandez raises his voice to speak to me through the open passenger window. “Now that was just fucking stupid, and you know it. How far did you think you were gonna get?” He chuckles and it makes me feel low, weak, dumb. “Get in the truck and come on back with me. Don’t make it worse for yourself,puta.”

What is that word?

I think I heard Andrés use it once before, but I don’t remember the context and I never asked him what it meant. Whatever it means, I know it’s an insult—that much is clear in the way he says it to me.

“I’ve got the generator running and some fans on inside the box. Come on back and we’ll get you cooled down before the sun burns that perfect, creamy skin of yours.”

I keep moving.

Keep walking.

Suddenly, the truck stops and everything happens all at once. He jumps out, slinging a string of curse words, and charges after me. He’s faster than I thought he would be. I put my bound hands up to push him away, but he gets his arms around me quickly. I ball my hands into fists and shove them against his chest as he lifts me with ease from the ground.

I kick.

I shove.

I scream through the gag.

I fight as hard as I can, but he still manages to wrestle me back into the truck.

I swing my fists at him once he starts driving backward toward the box, beating at his shoulder, his chest, his face, and his head. But I’m weak in comparison and nothing that I do seems to injure him. He parks, cuts off the engine, and turns to me, snatching my wrists easily in one of his large, rough hands.

“Listen here, you little bitch. You’ve just pissed me the fuck off and all you’ve managed to do is make things worse for yourself. I’m gonna hurt you. I’m gonna fuck you up in ways you can’t even imagine.”

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