Maria's Journey

I guess I finally realized no one was going to come down and help me so I tried to stand. Cum was flowing out of me trailing down my inner thighs. I took a couple of small steps. I needed something to wipe myself with. Looking around there was nothing. By the one corner was a closed door. I thought it might be some type of closet or maybe a bathroom. I sort of shuffled over to it, carrying my soiled clothing. My shoes were scattered somewhere on the floor and bending over to pick them up was excruciating. The door wasn't locked so I tugged it. It was jammed, so I pulled harder. The door popped open towards me. It was dark inside. I found a pull chain for the light.

The room was empty except for two bags lying on a small wooden table. One, a dirty green backpack and the other was a duffel-type bag. Maybe someone had some clothing in there that I could use to wipe up with, I thought. I unzipped the duffel-bag and was stunned to see bricks of white power wrapped in plastic stacked neatly in rows. Heroin or cocaine, I couldn't be sure which. I let go of the bag as if it were an electric shock.

I pulled the backpack up and opened it. I could not believe my eyes. Tight stacks of bills were arranged in neat bundles. Some were Lempria, but most were US dollars. Every space available was packed tightly. I touched some, maybe out of disbelief. I trailed my hand down one stack and pried back one bill. One hundred-dollar US bills, thousands of them. I drug my thumb down slowly. Were they all hundreds?

My hands shook, my body chilled at the revelation that I had stumbled onto the very thing the gang relied on; cash, thousands, probably hundreds of thousands. This was likely part of hard-earned money they had taken from people all over the slum as extortion too. Poor people's desperately-needed money was here, mixed with ill-gotten drug sales.

I sat on the floor and began trying to get my shoes back on. I pulled my bra on right over the moist stains still clinging to me. I couldn't find my panties, so I just pulled my jeans up and felt the wetness still trailing down the inside of my leg. My hair was a mat of drying semen. I tried to hold it back and it actually clung together due to all the goo drying in it.

As I reached for the light and turned it off, I looked out across the basement. Towards the back of the room I could see a set of stairs leading up to the rear. I shuffled weakly in that direction. The heavy door was held shut by three heavy draw-bolts which were covered in rust and webs. The door hadn't been opened in probably years. Only a few steps up and I could see through the dirty windows that it was now very dark outside. I could hear the muffled blare of music coming from somewhere upstairs. The celebration was already underway. I guess I had only been the warm-up for the evening. I forced the bolts back and pulled the door open.

The rear of the building was a junk pile. Trash and garbage littered the whole area. The alley seemed even darker and would be the best way out. Something in me would not let it go. The bastards had taken all of my dignity. I knew that Lobo would still see me around and think of me as shit. Fuck him!

Maybe it was some of the fogginess of the drugs they had used on me. I know the rage was building inside of me, but I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't believe my legs as they turned on their own and I staggered back into that basement.

The stash in the closet! I deserved it! I had certainly earned it. "Fuck them! Fuck them!" I kept repeating. I went back in, yanked open the door, grabbed both bags and pushed the door closed. I practically stumbled going up the steps and out into the cool evening. "Bastards, god-damn bastards every one of them!" I said to myself. I could now hear the party in full-swing even half a block away.

I walked for blocks and blocks. I knew I was miles yet from home. Eventually I made my way to a busy road thinking maybe someone would give me a ride. I stood along the curb but soon realized the futility of this. Occasionally a lone truck would speed past. No one slowed down. This was still a bad area and no driver was going to stop. I looked a mess. I smelled of cum, my hair all matted down now. No one would ever.....

"The money." I thought for a second and figured maybe it would improve my chances. I unzipped the backpack and tore the band on a pile of bills. I snaked out a single one-hundred dollar bill and walked for a bit until I was clear of any buildings. I stood in an open spot and waited for the next group of vehicles to go by.

As the next vehicles approached, I held up the bill and slowly waved it. The group of cars blew past me. The next ones did the same. But then, suddenly the last truck in the group slowed, brake lights came on. I couldn't believe it. An old pickup backed slowly towards me. The windows were already down. An old man was behind the wheel. He stopped and studied me for a second.

"Hola, Señor," I started

"Do you wish a ride?" he asked.

"Please sir, if you wouldn't mind," I choked out the words.

"You can hop in the back if you want to," he said motioning over his shoulder.

I climbed in quickly before he changed his mind. He started off down the road with me riding on the crates he had stacked in back. The night air was cleansing in a small way. The stench from my body was being blown away. The wind and my tears had finally washed away the remnants of the gang's attack from my eyes.

I began staring at the bill fluttering in my hand. I had never touched a bill so big. I knew they existed, but never dreamt I would have something like that in my own hand. We went along for maybe fifteen minutes when off to the right I began to see the familiar shapes of the church steeples of my neighborhood. I tapped on the rear window and the old guy started slowing down and then came to a stop along the shoulder. I slung the duffel bag over my shoulder, grabbed the backpack and climbed out the back.

I walked up on the passenger side and still holding the bill, tried to offer it to him, but he waved me off. He was a kindly-looking old gentleman, a farmer most likely. His weathered skin and calloused hands displayed a hard, but honest life. I let the bill fall from my grip and it landed on the seat next to him. I thanked him, and he was off.

Chapter 2

I tried to creep as silently as possible into my little home. I had hoped not to wake Momma but I had just gotten inside when the light came on. Momma was still dressed and had been sitting in the dark waiting for me.

I will never forget the look on her face. I was a total mess. My eyes reddened; hair all matted down. The damp stains down my pant legs were still visible. She started crying. I couldn't touch her. I started crying too. Tears I didn't know were still in me flowed down my cheeks. During all this, Carlos had woken up. He was completely shocked at my appearance also.

As only a mother can love her offspring, Momma's first instinct was to grab washcloths and begin bathing me. She waved Carlos away with no voice, just heartbreaking moans. She ran the warm water in the tub and laid out towels on the floor. She carefully helped me remove the clothing which was stuck in places to my skin. Her agony and hurt grew as each article of clothing was peeled away.

My breasts were covered with bite-marks and scratches. She knew! She knew in her heart what I had gone through. The rape had left marks on places all over me.

She gently stroked my face with soap and a soft cloth. Pouring warm water over my head was the most comforting feeling I could ever remember. Soapy water cascaded down my shoulders taking the filth with it. She wrapped a towel around my head, pulled my face into her bosom and held me there. I could feel the vibrations in her body as she wept.

We didn't speak of the things that had happened. There would be time for that later. For now, she just wanted to hold me, and reassure me that I would survive this. She was just thankful that I was alive. Our moment in the bathroom was short lived. As she led me out the door into the cool room, Carlos was standing there with the two bags I had dropped on the floor. He had opened both of them. The contents were clearly visible. Momma looked to me. Her face was white as a ghost.

"Maria, what...?"

Carlos was speechless also, but he already knew. He picked up a brick of the dope and held it out.

"The gang's?"

Somehow in the clear light of our small room the reality of what I had done was beginning to dawn on me. Momma started to panic.

"Take it back," she said. "Take it all back," she kept repeating herself.

Momma's voice began to show her terror.

I was shivering now and almost ready to pass out. I hadn't thought of the consequences. I hadn't thought at all. Carlos just stood there with a blank look on his face. As if it wasn't bad enough already, the first words out of his mouth were "They will kill us all for this." We all knew it was true.

"Take it back," Momma kept repeating. Carlos looked at her disbelieving. "We can't, Momma, they will murder us all and cut our heads off."

Carlos sat heavily on the bed shaking his head. "We are all dead."

"Dammit, stop saying that!" I said.

Momma cradled my head almost shaking it. I knew she was beside herself, and yet still wanted this all too just go away. Carlos finally said the most responsible thing.

"We've got to get Uncle Enrico. He will know what we should do."

"We will, first thing in the morning," Momma said, "Now we need to sleep."

"No! We have to now!" said Carlos, almost crying. "They will be here tonight and kill us for sure."

Carlos began getting dressed. He needed to get to a friend's house to borrow a phone. We were too poor and didn't have that luxury. He hurried out as soon as he was dressed.

Uncle Enrico was speechless when he arrived and heard what I had done.

"My God child, what were you thinking?" he said.

I had shed enough tears that evening to last my lifetime. The horror I had brought down on us all would be the end of everything I have ever known. Uncle Enrico paced the floor. He was shaking his head trying to devise some way. He hadn't seen what they had done to me, and Momma's pleas of returning it went on deaf ears. I had never seen Uncle Enrico so upset. Finally, he grabbed Momma and sternly held her arms to her sides.

"Mija," They will kill us if we try to return it, don't you understand this? We have very little time. We must leave. We must all leave. They will hunt each of us down and kill every one of us. We have to leave here now." His words didn't register at first.

"For how long?" I asked sounding dumb.

"Forever," was his stern answer. "Pack, pack quickly. Now! And take only what you need, hurry!"

How does someone tell you something like that, "Just leave your life?" My world was changing right then in the early morning hours of that day. Things would be different from all that I knew from now on.

We loaded up Uncle Enrico's work van with every scrap of our small lives. We had to disappear forever. We traveled quietly through the night to an old warehouse Uncle Enrico had rented for tools and materials he used in his business. I had assumed we would go to his house at least until morning, and I was foolish enough to ask. My world continued to crash down around me as he looked at me with disbelief in his face.

"I have to disappear also. They will kill every one of us. My family too! Don't you understand this either?"

I felt so guilty and terrified at what had I done to the ones that I loved so much. Uncle Enrico left to rescue his family. Everything they knew and loved was going to be being ripped from them that morning also. I couldn't deal with it anymore, and so I slept.

I awoke to the sounds of Momma talking. My Aunt Sofia and my cousin Luis were there. I didn't see Uncle Enrico anywhere. Carlos was eating some food which someone had brought in. As I began to stir, my body reminded me immediately of the abuse I had suffered the night before.

My legs still ached, and my breasts were extremely tender. Momma came over with a small glass of juice which I tried to drink it in small sips. Aunt Sofia was just staring at me. I knew she hated me in that moment. I felt like shit for having destroyed their lives. Luis came over to me and began to hug me. I winced from the pain in my chest. My boobs felt as if they had been treated like punching bags.

"I am so sorry," was all I could say. "So very sorry."

After a little bit, Uncle Enrico showed up driving a rental truck. It dawned on me that all worldly possessions of both families had to go with us. Aunt Theresa, his sister, was with him. He must have driven across town to bring her into hiding also. I guessed that everything she owned was in the back of the truck also.

This was crushing my spirit. Just how many lives had I ended last night? And after Theresa fed and housed me for all that time.

Uncle Enrico came over and handed me a wrapped sandwich. He touched my head in a loving gesture. I felt so horrible. I knew they were all hating on me for causing all of this. The adults were discussing various options and plans. Both Aunt Sophia and Momma cried several times. The voices got loud and then urgent whispering went on. Luis was called in and they listened to his opinions. I just sat quietly on some boxes nearby. My knees were drawn up and I just stayed that way. I wouldn't have had the nerve to offer suggestions. After what seemed like hours Uncle Enrico called Carlos and I over where they were talking this all out.

I guessed that some decision had been reached and agreed upon. Momma and Aunt Sofia were still crying. Aunt Theresa just sat expressionless I think in shock. Carlos and I walked over. I gave Momma, Sofia and Aunt Theresa a gentle hug. They each patted my arm softly.

I always had trusted Uncle Enrico. He was a man of the world. He knew things. He had spent his life dealing with issues surrounding his situation. Raising a family here was a challenge and he was an honest, common-sense man.

"Okay," he finally said, "This is where we stand. Maria, the problem is this," he said holding up a package of the dope. "This is not the gang's property; it is Sinaloa," he said in almost a whisper.

"See here, look at these markings. I know of these people"

I had heard the name before also.

"The Sinaloa cartel will kill for this. "All hell is about to break loose, Maria," he said looking very grim. "The Sinaloa cartel is absolutely ruthless. They will not only kill us, but even kill people we know. Torture is their specialty. There is over half a million US dollars in that bag, and this heroin you took is worth at least that much."

"Six hundred twenty-five thousand," corrected Carlos.

He had had been passing time by counting the money. He had been quietly arranging the stacks of bills on the floor. He had separated the bundles in piles of denominations. Uncle Enrico looked me square in the eye and said,

"Congratulations young lady, you may have just fulfilled your papa's wish."

"The cartel will likely exact a terrible revenge on the Barrio 18 gang. They may kill or torture every last one of them. The smart ones would disappear; the stupid ones and their families will likely die in a most horrible way," he said.

"We will survive," he repeated trying to convince himself and us.

"We must survive."

Chapter 3

The plan was difficult. We had to split up. Uncle Enrico said they will be looking for us all together so we stood a better chance dividing in two. I was hearing the words, but the details were a blur. Luis would go with Carlos and me and we would take the drugs and some cash and make our way to the United States border. We could not afford to be stopped by authorities because the cartel owned most of them.

Momma, Sofia, Theresa and Uncle Enrico would head west then north along the west coast. It was better to not know each-others exact route. They could not be carrying any of the drugs because they would pass check-points and borders. Luis, Carlos and I would travel the route by rail like most of the poor single immigrants. There was less chance of us being stopped if we mixed in with the crowd.

Luis and Carlos knew of web sites on social media where we could make contact with our parents once we were at the border or had even made it across. They wrote these down and agreed on false names to identify ourselves to each other. They explained to Uncle Enrico that public libraries had access to the internet. We would try to communicate, if possible along the way. Luis warned them against using any cell phones, as these can be tracked. The reach of the cartel was everywhere.

We all lent a hand packing what would be carried in the back of the truck, but how do you stuff three families entire lives into a small truck? I felt so miserable. I had destroyed everything my Uncle and Aunts had built, and Momma too. Each time I picked up a photograph frame or personal memento, tears began to flow down my face. Uncle Enrico was busy attending to the details of our journey. He looked over and saw my face. He walked up to me and gently pulled my head against his chest. He hugged my shoulder and walked me away from the truck. We crossed to a quiet corner. He pushed me down onto a little wooden box.

He squatted down right in front of me and cupped my face and lifted my chin. I looked right into his dark eyes.

"Maria, this can be a new start for all of our lives," he said softly.

"We all love you, and understand what you went through."

Uncle Enrico went on to explain that life wasn't good for his family either. The gang's extortion demands were bleeding him financially. He had to pay to live and work each time in the neighborhood. He was to soon lose his home also. He hated the way things had become.

He held my face up and forced my gaze.

"You have given us a chance at a better life Maria. We just need to work together to make this happen."

"I love you all so very much," was all I could think to say.

I resolved right then to do whatever would be necessary to see that we would all be together again, and in a better place. Uncle Enrico felt that we could spare no time and that we needed to get moving immediately. We couldn't be sure how long it would be before the gang realized the stuff was missing. Once they discovered it, they would fan out frantically searching for us themselves. Maybe they could delay the cartel until it was obvious they had lost the money and the drugs.

Eventually though the cartel would learn the truth and the vengeance would begin. Hopefully, the cartel would think one of the gang had taken it first. It might take the torture and killing of every last gang member for them to learn the truth. Yes, running made us look guilty, but to stay was certain death. The gang would pay for their stupidity as an example to other gangs. Then, the cartel would come after us.

We needed to be ahead of them, faster and farther than they would ever look. Getting out and away and from San Pedro Sula would be the most dangerous part. If the gang hadn't discovered the theft, we had a good chance. Otherwise, they would be waiting for us. We dare not go back to any place the gang might be waiting.

Uncle Enrico said it was about 280 km. to Guatemala City. If we left very soon, we could make it before dark. The border between Honduras and Guatemala was poorly guarded and a routine crossing. He had made the trip often for supplies and material he used. It was mostly main highway and we would blend in with the other commercial traffic. We would travel all together at least that far. The railroads heading north-east would carry Luis, Carlos and me from there.

Most highways heading up into Mexico were patrolled by authorities and many drug enforcement stops were along this route. Uncle Enrico would drive towards Mexico City. The four of them would appear to be just poor immigrants traveling north.