Aztec Treasure

“Maria, you have to get as far away as you can from this,” I told myself as I picked my way through the mountainous terrain. I could hear the sounds of the troops arriving at the scene of the explosions behind me. Whistles were sounding, men were shouting, and diesel engines were straining to get up the hill.

I was sure that they would send patrols out to look for survivors as soon as they had the property under their control. I felt bad for anyone who had survived; I hadn’t sensed any had, but maybe they would find someone under the rubble.

The sling was the savior for me. Little Maritza stayed in her cat form, her head sticking out to see where I was carrying her. If she had been a human baby, she would be hitting her marks if she could sit up and was mixing in solid food with breast milk. Right now, she’d be crying her head off, leading pursuers right to us.

My baby jaguar charge could walk, climb, and hide on her own. If you looked closely, you could see the differences between her and a wild jaguar cub. Her head was almost comically big on the twenty-pound body, her neck heavily muscled to hold the weight up. Her eyes were slightly different, richer in color than a wild cat. She knew enough to keep quiet and use her senses as I ran through the trees and underbrush. A born predator, she was silent as we moved; at most, she would make a noise that was a combination of a screech and a whine.

I was so focused mentally on staying out of sight as we neared the crest of the mountain that I didn’t hear it first. Maritza let out a soft screech, causing me to freeze near a tree. I froze, tilting my head up, and I heard it too.

A helicopter.

It was coming in fast, and around here, only the military would be flying them. Panicked, I looked around for a hiding place. Spotting a downed tree, I turned and sprinted over, crawling underneath just before the helicopter flew over me. I kept the big, rotting trunk between us and the aircraft until it was well down the valley.

Crawling back out, I knew I needed to put more miles behind me before dark. My Dad taught me about how authorities could use drones and helicopters to search for and track people. “Infrared doesn’t do shit for them during the day,” he told me. “The sun heats the pavement, rocks, and everything else. Because of that, it’s normal eyeballs and cameras that get used. If you can stay below trees and buildings, they won’t see you. Whether it is day or night, it’s your motion that stands out. Stay still, and you’re tough to pick out among all the noise. ”

“And at night?”

“Exactly the opposite. Everything cools off, and warm-blooded creatures stand out. Whether you are moving or still, you light up infrared like a flare. Normal vision and cameras don’t do anything in low light, so it’s all about hiding your heat signature. Hot engines and hot bodies are like beacons, so unless you hide them among other hot things, they will see you. If you hear an aircraft or helicopter, get under the thickest, densest cover you can and pray to Tezcatlipoca to keep you safe.”

I thought about his words as we crested the hill. I could see a small village in the distance to the south; if I could make it before dark and find a hiding place, I might be safe. I had no idea if they knew I was running or if anyone else escaped, so I assumed the worst.

As I changed course to the south, I stayed below the ridgeline to avoid being silhouetted by the sky. I kept to the opposite slope from where the military would be searching for me. I’d learned my lesson, so I kept my ears open for more aircraft. I had to stop and hide four times, almost getting caught in the open once when one suddenly crested the mountain from the east. I pushed through the late afternoon sun, picking up speed as the downhill run continued. My luck held out, and I was crouching in the treeline above the fifteen or so buildings comprising El Gasimal at sunset.

My stomach was empty, and I looked down at the animal pen and plotted my next move. The farmers were in their home, the lights on bright, while the pigs and goats settled in under the galvanized steel shelter. I had a choice; I could go down as a jaguar and kill my meal, or I could walk down as a human and try and buy one.

One way could get me shot, and the other could get me killed.

In the end, it was Maritza that made that decision for me. She crawled out of the sling, relieved herself in the shrubs, then shifted back into her human form. As she lay on her back and kicked her feet in the air, I removed my dress from the sling and pulled it over my head. I put on my sandals next, then hung my purse and the sling from opposite shoulders. I only had one spare diaper in the bag, so I put that on the girl as she lay there, then settled her into the sling. She was hungry and dehydrated, and she started to cry as I walked towards the road.

By the time I reached the first farmhouse, Maritza was in full-blown meltdown. The baby’s crying got the attention of the older woman cleaning the kitchen. She opened the door to see what was going on. “Are you all right?”

“No,” I said as I started to cry. “I’ve been walking for hours, and my baby is hungry.”

“Come here,” she told me as she rushed out. “I am Concita.”

“Sofia Hernandez. Tianna is my daughter.” I took her out, holding her to my shoulder as I tried to calm her down.

“What are you doing out so late?”

She pushed me into the small kitchen, sitting me at the table as she went to get some goat milk. “It’s my fault. I caught a ride on a truck to Culiacan, but the driver was a pig. He pulled off the road and demanded I sleep with him in exchange. I refused, and he left me by the side of the road. I saw the lights and kept going until you saw me.”

“Bastard! Who can do that to a mother with a child? I hope your husband finds him and cuts his throat.” I started crying even more. “Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Where is your husband?”

“He disappeared last year while I was pregnant,” I said. “I’ve been warned not to ask questions.” That was a way of saying the Cartel had killed him. The Sinaloa cartel controlled everything in this province and killed anyone who got in their way.

A gray-haired man, his weathered skin freshly cleaned, came into the kitchen. “My husband Eduardo,” she told me as she introduced me. He held out a callused hand, shaking it gently as Concita explained what had happened to me. He was shocked, but many bad things happened on the roads these days. “I am taking food to the markets in the morning; you may ride in with me. We leave at four.”

“Thank you.”

He offered to hold Tianna while I ate the tamales, rice, and refried beans that Concita heated for me. Concita poured warmed milk into a sippy cup she found in the back of a cabinet, and Maritza drank at it greedily. “Can she eat solid foods?”

“She just started.”

I mashed some of the rice with my fork, mixing it with some of the beans. Eduardo fed it to her as I ate, and Tianna fell asleep with her full belly. “You look exhausted,” he told me. “Concita is preparing the extra room for you. Get some sleep, and I’ll wake you for breakfast.”

I took Tianna back and gave the old farmer a hug of thanks. “You’re so kind,” I told him.

“No baby should go to bed hungry,” he said. He led me to a room where Concita was preparing the bed.

“I don’t have a crib, but I emptied this drawer out and put blankets in it for you,” she told me. “I found these diapers that my daughter didn’t use. They might be big on her.”

“I’ll make it work,” I said. “Thank you.” I set the girl into the makeshift crib, covering her with a thin blanket.

She patted my shoulder and left. I pulled off my dress, laid down on the bed, and was asleep moments later.

I woke to shouts and pounding on the door. “POLICE! OPEN UP!”

I leaped out of bed, pulling on my dress and donning my purse and sling. I would grab Maritza last, praying she would remain asleep while I figured out a way to escape. I heard Eduardo open the door to talk to the men as I opened the bedroom window quietly.

“We’re looking for men who may have escaped from a Cartel safe house in the mountains,” the man said. “Have you seen anyone?”

“No, of course not.”

“We have to check.” It was another snap decision to make. Run for it, or trust these good people to protect me. I dove back under the blanket and pretended to sleep.

“Please, our daughter and her baby are in there. She had a bad night, so don’t wake her.”

The officer quietly opened the door to the small room, looking around to verify no one else was there. I pretended I was asleep, not letting out a breath until he closed the door and moved on. “If you see anything suspicious, call us immediately.” The police moved on to the next home.

Concita opened the door a few minutes later. “They are gone. Go back to sleep.”

“Thank you,” I told her. She closed the door, and I closed my eyes. It took a while for my heart to slow down enough to go back to sleep.